Castro, Isla Chiloe, Chile, 1/28/16
Today we hit the wall. We're anchored in a lovely bay with a lovely view of a lovely little, hilly town but we just looked at each other and said, "Not gonna happen." Thus hits nearly everyone sometime on a cruise. You just wake up that day and admit you just don't want to do whatever you've planned to do. Castro has a square with a cathedral and shops. And even though the bay is absolutely flat so the tender ride to the pier is a piece of cake, it's still a tender ride and it's a steep hill up to the square and so inertia has set in and we're having a ship day. The perfect time to grab a latte at the deserted coffee bar and snag one of the coveted easy chairs in the library. Perhaps lunch in the dining room and then a movie. Recharging the batteries, as if they need it. One more port tomorrow and then straight to Valparaiso for debarking early on Sunday.
Thursday, January 28, 2016
Puerto Chacabuco, Chile, 1/27/16
Today we crossed the Andes. We took the 90 minute bus ride from the damp and green coast (4,000 mm of rain per year) up a two lane, mostly except when it was one lane because the road or bridge was under repair, highway to the drier area (1,000 mm of rain per year) and the regional capital city of Coyhaique City.
This is the northern edge of Patagonia, the largest region (like a state) of the country but the smallest population. It's the gateway for outdoor recreation--fishing, hiking, camping, white water rafting, etc. It is also very isolated. Puerto Chacabuco (easily the most fun to say) is accessible by air or ferry, in the summer. Coyhaique is accessible by road or air, in the summer. Both towns (neither is large enough to be defined officially as a city) are virtually closed to visitors in the winter. The weather, rain and wind on the coast and snow in the mountains, wreaks havoc on air and sea schedules.
Our guide, Makarena, is a native of Coyhaique. She went away to university to study translation (her English is perfect, American rather than British) but didn't like the big city so returned home to work as a guide in the summer and wool artist in the winter. She's a walking encyclopedia of the area. As she said, "I grew up here so I know about the people, history, geography and nature." She did concede that the quiet life is not for everyone. The regional government is headquartered in Coyhaique but most of the governmental employees are there for just two years. Too quiet.
We stopped at a restaurant set in a beautiful riverside farm on the way back to the ship for a spread of Chilean wines, Pisco Sours, empanadas (Jim's new favorite food), cheeses, salmon (farmed salmon all over Chile) and sweets. Nothing like a couple of Pisco Sours each to make the ride back to the port jollier than the ride from the port!
It took two days to get from Punta Arenas to Puerto Chacabuco. We sailed through the archipelago of thousands of islands off the coast of southern Chile, past fjords and a few impressive glaciers and saw not one other vessel large or small. The entire area is uninhabitable. Absolutely gorgeous, though, with steep, tree-covered mountains rising straight up from the sea; no beaches at all. Gradually we left the snow-covered peaks behind but not the clouds, occasional rain shower and always, always the wind. It's also getting a bit warmer every day. In fact today the winds subsided and we saw the sun! The heavy coats, scarves, hats and gloves are back in the closet. It's supposed to be in the low 60s tomorrow.
Today we crossed the Andes. We took the 90 minute bus ride from the damp and green coast (4,000 mm of rain per year) up a two lane, mostly except when it was one lane because the road or bridge was under repair, highway to the drier area (1,000 mm of rain per year) and the regional capital city of Coyhaique City.
This is the northern edge of Patagonia, the largest region (like a state) of the country but the smallest population. It's the gateway for outdoor recreation--fishing, hiking, camping, white water rafting, etc. It is also very isolated. Puerto Chacabuco (easily the most fun to say) is accessible by air or ferry, in the summer. Coyhaique is accessible by road or air, in the summer. Both towns (neither is large enough to be defined officially as a city) are virtually closed to visitors in the winter. The weather, rain and wind on the coast and snow in the mountains, wreaks havoc on air and sea schedules.
Our guide, Makarena, is a native of Coyhaique. She went away to university to study translation (her English is perfect, American rather than British) but didn't like the big city so returned home to work as a guide in the summer and wool artist in the winter. She's a walking encyclopedia of the area. As she said, "I grew up here so I know about the people, history, geography and nature." She did concede that the quiet life is not for everyone. The regional government is headquartered in Coyhaique but most of the governmental employees are there for just two years. Too quiet.
We stopped at a restaurant set in a beautiful riverside farm on the way back to the ship for a spread of Chilean wines, Pisco Sours, empanadas (Jim's new favorite food), cheeses, salmon (farmed salmon all over Chile) and sweets. Nothing like a couple of Pisco Sours each to make the ride back to the port jollier than the ride from the port!
It took two days to get from Punta Arenas to Puerto Chacabuco. We sailed through the archipelago of thousands of islands off the coast of southern Chile, past fjords and a few impressive glaciers and saw not one other vessel large or small. The entire area is uninhabitable. Absolutely gorgeous, though, with steep, tree-covered mountains rising straight up from the sea; no beaches at all. Gradually we left the snow-covered peaks behind but not the clouds, occasional rain shower and always, always the wind. It's also getting a bit warmer every day. In fact today the winds subsided and we saw the sun! The heavy coats, scarves, hats and gloves are back in the closet. It's supposed to be in the low 60s tomorrow.
Monday, January 25, 2016
Punta Arenas, Chile, 1/24/16
The announced plan was to arrive very early in Punta Arenas so the 42 people who coughed up the big bucks to fly to Antarctica could set off at 6 am. The standard practice is no ship wide announcements before 8 am, so imagine our surprise when the captain 's voice was heard at 6 am. He had been trying to dock for the past hour but the winds were against him. He said if we couldn't dock by 11 am (!) we would be moving on. That got our attention! Finally they went old school and a couple of tugs were used to nudge the ship dockside a little after 7. The Anatrctic-bound folks were quickly rounded up and off they went.
At 7:30 we were supposed to go by ferry 20 nautical miles north to Monumento Natural Los Pinguinos, a 97-hectare island home to 60,000 breeding pairs of Magellanic penguins. This excursion was also available by speed boat (45 minutes travel time as opposed to the two hours each way by ferry) but the winds were near gale force and the seas were as fierce as you would expect so all the speed boat excursions were cancelled. Much to our surprise the ferry trip was a go.
The Melinka makes the trip from Punta Arenas to Isla Magdalena daily between October and March. I'm guessing it could hold two or three cars but it really is just for people, about 200 of us sitting shoulder to shoulder, knees to knees for quite the two hour ride. Once again I am ever so grateful that I no longer get seasick!
The island is wind-swept with no vegetation or fresh water. It does have a still-functioning lighthouse manned during the summer otherwise it's jus penguins! Tens of thousands of penguins. Magellanic penguins are 24" tall, weigh about ten pounds and have absolutely no fear of or curiosity about humans. We were asked to respect the marked path that runs along the shore between the sea and the penguin nests, which are, like the Gentoos', burrows in the earth. The birds, however, are going here, there and everywhere but mostly into the sea to feed and then back to their chicks. They practically walked across our toes. The chicks are nearly as large as the adults and many were almost through molting. As soon as the fluff is gone, replaced by waterproof feathers, they will also go into the sea.
It's such fun to watch the adults raise their wings and then waddle like mad; so clumsy on shore, so graceful at sea. They didn't have to go far into the water to feed. Dozens of them swimming together in packs. That ever-present wind didn't seem to bother them in the slightest. We were given an hour on shore. Jim and I lasted maybe half that long before we returned to the Melinka.
(Wow! I'm writing this 24 hours later on Monday afternoon as we sail up through the islands of southern Chile. We're heading towards the Brujo Glacier. I just looked out the window to discover we're in the midst of thousands of chunks of ice. Not giant bergs, but a zillion baby bergs nonetheless. Wow!)
The wind was at our back going back to Punta Arenas but it still took two hours. There was time to go into town after we got back to the ship but we were cold, not much would be open on Sunday and we didn't have any Chilean pesos. Besides, what could top our visit with the Pinguinos?
The announced plan was to arrive very early in Punta Arenas so the 42 people who coughed up the big bucks to fly to Antarctica could set off at 6 am. The standard practice is no ship wide announcements before 8 am, so imagine our surprise when the captain 's voice was heard at 6 am. He had been trying to dock for the past hour but the winds were against him. He said if we couldn't dock by 11 am (!) we would be moving on. That got our attention! Finally they went old school and a couple of tugs were used to nudge the ship dockside a little after 7. The Anatrctic-bound folks were quickly rounded up and off they went.
At 7:30 we were supposed to go by ferry 20 nautical miles north to Monumento Natural Los Pinguinos, a 97-hectare island home to 60,000 breeding pairs of Magellanic penguins. This excursion was also available by speed boat (45 minutes travel time as opposed to the two hours each way by ferry) but the winds were near gale force and the seas were as fierce as you would expect so all the speed boat excursions were cancelled. Much to our surprise the ferry trip was a go.
The Melinka makes the trip from Punta Arenas to Isla Magdalena daily between October and March. I'm guessing it could hold two or three cars but it really is just for people, about 200 of us sitting shoulder to shoulder, knees to knees for quite the two hour ride. Once again I am ever so grateful that I no longer get seasick!
The island is wind-swept with no vegetation or fresh water. It does have a still-functioning lighthouse manned during the summer otherwise it's jus penguins! Tens of thousands of penguins. Magellanic penguins are 24" tall, weigh about ten pounds and have absolutely no fear of or curiosity about humans. We were asked to respect the marked path that runs along the shore between the sea and the penguin nests, which are, like the Gentoos', burrows in the earth. The birds, however, are going here, there and everywhere but mostly into the sea to feed and then back to their chicks. They practically walked across our toes. The chicks are nearly as large as the adults and many were almost through molting. As soon as the fluff is gone, replaced by waterproof feathers, they will also go into the sea.
It's such fun to watch the adults raise their wings and then waddle like mad; so clumsy on shore, so graceful at sea. They didn't have to go far into the water to feed. Dozens of them swimming together in packs. That ever-present wind didn't seem to bother them in the slightest. We were given an hour on shore. Jim and I lasted maybe half that long before we returned to the Melinka.
(Wow! I'm writing this 24 hours later on Monday afternoon as we sail up through the islands of southern Chile. We're heading towards the Brujo Glacier. I just looked out the window to discover we're in the midst of thousands of chunks of ice. Not giant bergs, but a zillion baby bergs nonetheless. Wow!)
The wind was at our back going back to Punta Arenas but it still took two hours. There was time to go into town after we got back to the ship but we were cold, not much would be open on Sunday and we didn't have any Chilean pesos. Besides, what could top our visit with the Pinguinos?
Ushuaia, Tierra Del Fuego, 1/23/16
Today we went to the end of the world, specifically the southern end of the Pan American Highway. FYI the last 20 kilometers or so is unpaved and located in the Tierra Del Fuego National Park. It is also very windy at the end of the world.
We made several stops in the park along a river, then lake and finally bay to get a taste of the gorgeous scenery. The snow-capped Andes run east to west here. The border between Chile and Argentina runs right through TdF. Today's guide, Florencia, lives in Buenos Aires but works in Ushuaia in the summer. She told us the tour company brings in extra people for the season, putting them up in a "Big Brother" house. Housing is scarce and expensive here, so to have it provided is a big plus as are the wages, triple what she could earn in Buenos Aires.
A big Celebrity ship pulled in next to us while we were ashore and the Norwegian Sun was waiting to take our place at the pier. Lots of tourists in town. We're leaving around 1 pm to cruise first the Beagle Channel and then Glacier Alley en route to our next stop, Punta Arenas, Chile.
I'm now firmly convinced that "Patagonia" means not big feet but screaming winds! We left Ushuaia around 1 pm to cruise the Beagle Channel to Glacier Alley. I made the effort to experience it all on the forward deck and lasted about five minutes. That wind was so strong I couldn't hold my camera steady so I retreated first to the Promenade Deck and finally to our stateroom. Lucky us, we were passing the Glaciers on the starboard side so we had a front row seat on our verandah.
Some rain late this afternoon (it's warmer here but still in the 40s F) followed by a full double rainbow.
Today we went to the end of the world, specifically the southern end of the Pan American Highway. FYI the last 20 kilometers or so is unpaved and located in the Tierra Del Fuego National Park. It is also very windy at the end of the world.
We made several stops in the park along a river, then lake and finally bay to get a taste of the gorgeous scenery. The snow-capped Andes run east to west here. The border between Chile and Argentina runs right through TdF. Today's guide, Florencia, lives in Buenos Aires but works in Ushuaia in the summer. She told us the tour company brings in extra people for the season, putting them up in a "Big Brother" house. Housing is scarce and expensive here, so to have it provided is a big plus as are the wages, triple what she could earn in Buenos Aires.
A big Celebrity ship pulled in next to us while we were ashore and the Norwegian Sun was waiting to take our place at the pier. Lots of tourists in town. We're leaving around 1 pm to cruise first the Beagle Channel and then Glacier Alley en route to our next stop, Punta Arenas, Chile.
I'm now firmly convinced that "Patagonia" means not big feet but screaming winds! We left Ushuaia around 1 pm to cruise the Beagle Channel to Glacier Alley. I made the effort to experience it all on the forward deck and lasted about five minutes. That wind was so strong I couldn't hold my camera steady so I retreated first to the Promenade Deck and finally to our stateroom. Lucky us, we were passing the Glaciers on the starboard side so we had a front row seat on our verandah.
Some rain late this afternoon (it's warmer here but still in the 40s F) followed by a full double rainbow.
Friday, January 22, 2016
At Sea, Antarctica to Cape Horn, 1/20-22/16
1/20/16:
After lunch we headed back towards Palmer Station. As we hovered among the icebergs a few miles offshore, two Zodiacs came zooming out to pick up our visitors and take them back to their base. The skies had been getting grayer all morning and as we waved good bye to the Zodiacs and their passengers, all wearing bright orange foul weather suits, it began snowing. And the wind picked up. I'd planned to put on my tennies and do a few laps on the Promenade Deck, but as the winds topped 50 knots and the snow flurries continued, the decks were closed and it was a "snow day" at sea.
Add to the list of things we didn't do the Penguin Plunge. At 11 am with the temperature a balmy 1 degree C the passengers were invited to jump into the outdoor pool located at the stern on deck 8. To mark this insanity all participants received a certificate and mug of mulled wine.
As we turned away from Antarctica the captain advised that we'd be hitting seas of three to four meters. This prediction was confirmed when we came back from dinner and found that the stewards had brought in the cushions from the verandah furniture, a sure sign of rocky seas ahead.
1/21/16:
On sea days we continue with AU, Antartica University, with up to three lectures per day given by the three expedition experts on board. We've learned about the history, wildlife, science, accomplishments and future of the Antarctic region. A special bonus today was a presentation on ice by the Ice Pilot, Captain Dick Taylor, USCG (Ret). Dick first visited Antarctica 37 years ago aboard a Coast Guard ice breaker. He has also captained these vessels at the North Pole and on Lake Michigan. Oh, my, working aboard an ice breaker is w.o.r.k. The ships are specially designed to ride up on the ice and then slam down to make a path. Up and down, over and over dozens of times an hour. There's not enough Aleve in the world to ease that pain! Once again we all realize that living and working in these extremes is not for the faint of heart. And how dependent everyone involved in the various divisions are on each other. Dick has worked as Ice Pilot for HAL for a number of years. He mentioned that he had never seen so many of the gigantic tabular icebergs as he had on this cruise. He also kept calling this ship "thin-skinned" unlike the ice breakers with hulls two inches thick. He also reassured us that the bergs show up on "good" radar and the Zaandam's is excellent. Well, now...
The gray weather continues, also the heavy wind and seas. It has warmed up to 4 C, so no more snow, but the wind is still howling so I haven't ventured out on the Promenade Deck. Jim's read several books so far and today I finished knitting a scarf. There isn't an organized knitting group or time on this ship, but you look around any theater or lounge and you can spot needles and yarn in use. I will sometimes sit and knit and chat with a fellow traveler to learn about where they're from, what they're making.
We continue crossing the Drake Passage and should reach Cape Horn Friday (1/22) at 1 pm. It's a two day journey from Palmer Station.
1/22/16
We've passed out of the Antarctic territory, everyplace south of 60 degrees latitude. It's generally overcast and rainy with occasional patches of sunlight. The sea is gray and very choppy. The wind (55 mph at noon as I write this) is from the NW and we are heading NNW so we are constantly going up and down, not enough to knock you off your pins but enough to make walking from A to B or especially going up and down the stairs a bit of an adventure. Thank heavens there are grab rails everywhere!
This morning we learned about Admiral Byrd from Guy Guthridge who began his Antarctic experience with the National Science Foundation in 1970 as editor of the Antarctic Journal of the United States. He managed Antarctic field participation beyond the research community into the arts as well as youth and educators. His wife is very outgoing (we had lunch with her at the Uruguayan winery) and an accomplished fine arts photographer. Guy has used some of her dramatically beautiful images to illustrate his talks. Now to add books by and about Byrd to our reading list.
After Byrd, Scott Drieschman gave his last presentation, Emperor Penguins, brought to the world stage in the movie March of the Penguins. Scott began his career as Curator of Birds at Sea World, San Diego in the early 70s. He's gone on to spend the last 40 years studying penguins and sea mammals in the Arctic and Antarctic regions. He loves the Emps! He has engaging pictures of the birds demonstrating their behaviors and shares his vast knowledge in an erudite and entertaining manner. He's the professor we all wished we'd had no matter what the subject. He's been awarded the Antarctic Service Medal for his contributions.
The third member and leader of the Expedition Team is David Bresnahan who for decades managed all US operations in the Antarctic. He's taught us a lot about the nuts and bolts of establishing and running the research stations on Antarctica as well as the scientists and support staff who live there.
All three have bona fides and then some and although all are retired from their various careers they all have an abiding passion for their fields and the enjoyment of sharing with us.
Once again I'm reminded that the best retirement gig ever is as an expert employed by a cruise line. You get to visit and revisit your favorite places, give three different hour-long talks during the cruise and then spend the rest of the time chatting about your favorite subjects with people who are happy to be along for the ride.
It's 2 pm ship's time, noon EST, and after picking up a Chilean pilot who will stay with us until the end of our cruise in Valparaiso, we're rounding the Cape east to west. Normally I'd layer up and hit the forward deck to take pictures BUT although it's warmed up to 8 C, the wind is gale force, we are heading straight into it and the apparent winds have ranged upward of 70 mph. I will not be taking one for the team this time. Every once in a while I grab my camera, put a death grip on the door handle and snap a picture or two from our verandah. Trust me, lots of rocky, windswept islands and choppy, windswept seas.
Update at 2:23. The wind is right against our verandah door making it impossible to open. It's also sleeting a bit and the clouds are now at sea level. I shall choose to enjoy this inside and wonder how both early and contemporary sailors ever make this trip.
1/20/16:
After lunch we headed back towards Palmer Station. As we hovered among the icebergs a few miles offshore, two Zodiacs came zooming out to pick up our visitors and take them back to their base. The skies had been getting grayer all morning and as we waved good bye to the Zodiacs and their passengers, all wearing bright orange foul weather suits, it began snowing. And the wind picked up. I'd planned to put on my tennies and do a few laps on the Promenade Deck, but as the winds topped 50 knots and the snow flurries continued, the decks were closed and it was a "snow day" at sea.
Add to the list of things we didn't do the Penguin Plunge. At 11 am with the temperature a balmy 1 degree C the passengers were invited to jump into the outdoor pool located at the stern on deck 8. To mark this insanity all participants received a certificate and mug of mulled wine.
As we turned away from Antarctica the captain advised that we'd be hitting seas of three to four meters. This prediction was confirmed when we came back from dinner and found that the stewards had brought in the cushions from the verandah furniture, a sure sign of rocky seas ahead.
1/21/16:
On sea days we continue with AU, Antartica University, with up to three lectures per day given by the three expedition experts on board. We've learned about the history, wildlife, science, accomplishments and future of the Antarctic region. A special bonus today was a presentation on ice by the Ice Pilot, Captain Dick Taylor, USCG (Ret). Dick first visited Antarctica 37 years ago aboard a Coast Guard ice breaker. He has also captained these vessels at the North Pole and on Lake Michigan. Oh, my, working aboard an ice breaker is w.o.r.k. The ships are specially designed to ride up on the ice and then slam down to make a path. Up and down, over and over dozens of times an hour. There's not enough Aleve in the world to ease that pain! Once again we all realize that living and working in these extremes is not for the faint of heart. And how dependent everyone involved in the various divisions are on each other. Dick has worked as Ice Pilot for HAL for a number of years. He mentioned that he had never seen so many of the gigantic tabular icebergs as he had on this cruise. He also kept calling this ship "thin-skinned" unlike the ice breakers with hulls two inches thick. He also reassured us that the bergs show up on "good" radar and the Zaandam's is excellent. Well, now...
The gray weather continues, also the heavy wind and seas. It has warmed up to 4 C, so no more snow, but the wind is still howling so I haven't ventured out on the Promenade Deck. Jim's read several books so far and today I finished knitting a scarf. There isn't an organized knitting group or time on this ship, but you look around any theater or lounge and you can spot needles and yarn in use. I will sometimes sit and knit and chat with a fellow traveler to learn about where they're from, what they're making.
We continue crossing the Drake Passage and should reach Cape Horn Friday (1/22) at 1 pm. It's a two day journey from Palmer Station.
1/22/16
We've passed out of the Antarctic territory, everyplace south of 60 degrees latitude. It's generally overcast and rainy with occasional patches of sunlight. The sea is gray and very choppy. The wind (55 mph at noon as I write this) is from the NW and we are heading NNW so we are constantly going up and down, not enough to knock you off your pins but enough to make walking from A to B or especially going up and down the stairs a bit of an adventure. Thank heavens there are grab rails everywhere!
This morning we learned about Admiral Byrd from Guy Guthridge who began his Antarctic experience with the National Science Foundation in 1970 as editor of the Antarctic Journal of the United States. He managed Antarctic field participation beyond the research community into the arts as well as youth and educators. His wife is very outgoing (we had lunch with her at the Uruguayan winery) and an accomplished fine arts photographer. Guy has used some of her dramatically beautiful images to illustrate his talks. Now to add books by and about Byrd to our reading list.
After Byrd, Scott Drieschman gave his last presentation, Emperor Penguins, brought to the world stage in the movie March of the Penguins. Scott began his career as Curator of Birds at Sea World, San Diego in the early 70s. He's gone on to spend the last 40 years studying penguins and sea mammals in the Arctic and Antarctic regions. He loves the Emps! He has engaging pictures of the birds demonstrating their behaviors and shares his vast knowledge in an erudite and entertaining manner. He's the professor we all wished we'd had no matter what the subject. He's been awarded the Antarctic Service Medal for his contributions.
The third member and leader of the Expedition Team is David Bresnahan who for decades managed all US operations in the Antarctic. He's taught us a lot about the nuts and bolts of establishing and running the research stations on Antarctica as well as the scientists and support staff who live there.
All three have bona fides and then some and although all are retired from their various careers they all have an abiding passion for their fields and the enjoyment of sharing with us.
Once again I'm reminded that the best retirement gig ever is as an expert employed by a cruise line. You get to visit and revisit your favorite places, give three different hour-long talks during the cruise and then spend the rest of the time chatting about your favorite subjects with people who are happy to be along for the ride.
It's 2 pm ship's time, noon EST, and after picking up a Chilean pilot who will stay with us until the end of our cruise in Valparaiso, we're rounding the Cape east to west. Normally I'd layer up and hit the forward deck to take pictures BUT although it's warmed up to 8 C, the wind is gale force, we are heading straight into it and the apparent winds have ranged upward of 70 mph. I will not be taking one for the team this time. Every once in a while I grab my camera, put a death grip on the door handle and snap a picture or two from our verandah. Trust me, lots of rocky, windswept islands and choppy, windswept seas.
Update at 2:23. The wind is right against our verandah door making it impossible to open. It's also sleeting a bit and the clouds are now at sea level. I shall choose to enjoy this inside and wonder how both early and contemporary sailors ever make this trip.
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
Palmer Station, 1/20/16
While we slept, a dozen of the 42 scientists and support staff came aboard from Palmer Station, one of the three US scientific camps in Antarctica. Weather permitting they visit all the Hooland America ships passing by. The station manager, a Lockheed Martin employee from Littleton, CO, narrated a presentation about the various camps. Then he was joined by the others, a couple of university scientists, the sous chef, the head mechanic, the trash man (he had a much fancier job description) and some others. They answered many questions from the audience ranging from science to what food do you miss. They will have lunch on board, probably a very nice lunch featuring everything they mentioned (papaya, sushi, IPA, fresh vegetables).
The ship tried once again to go up that channel we attempted yesterday and once again had to turn back and head to Palmer Station where our visitors will get off and return to their real work. It's a grey day which makes the snow seem that much brighter and whiter, but the waters are protected and very calm so their transfer from ship to shore should be easy.
While we slept, a dozen of the 42 scientists and support staff came aboard from Palmer Station, one of the three US scientific camps in Antarctica. Weather permitting they visit all the Hooland America ships passing by. The station manager, a Lockheed Martin employee from Littleton, CO, narrated a presentation about the various camps. Then he was joined by the others, a couple of university scientists, the sous chef, the head mechanic, the trash man (he had a much fancier job description) and some others. They answered many questions from the audience ranging from science to what food do you miss. They will have lunch on board, probably a very nice lunch featuring everything they mentioned (papaya, sushi, IPA, fresh vegetables).
The ship tried once again to go up that channel we attempted yesterday and once again had to turn back and head to Palmer Station where our visitors will get off and return to their real work. It's a grey day which makes the snow seem that much brighter and whiter, but the waters are protected and very calm so their transfer from ship to shore should be easy.
Off the Danco Coast, 1/19/16
We opened the drapes this morning to find we were slowly and closely passing a colony of breeding Gentoo penguins. The rookery covered a point of dirt and rocks. The birds seem to be in constant motion and when we opened the door to the balcony, fortunately upwind, we could hear them. It was a soft sound like a cross between clucking and purring.
From the height of the ship's decks (the air is so clear that it's difficult to judge distances; what seems close might actually be a mile or better away) the animals, whether penguins, seals or even whales, look small. The penguins look like tiny dots on the ice as we pass. To confirm that I'm actually looking at penguins I've learned to zoom in on anything tiny on ice or shore with my little but mighty Canon Super Shot and run off a few frames. I'm continually amazed at the excellent pictures I'm getting. Probably nothing to compare with those taken by the people with the fancy cameras and big long lenses, but hit the button enough times and the odds are I'll get some good photos!
Today were cruising between the South Shetland Islands and the coast of Antarctica. As we've learned from the wonderful talks given by the experts on board, the continent is mountainous and all but covered with ice and a lot of snow. The whole coastline is brown/black mountains, 4,000' high running down to the sea. There are a lot of coves and bays and channels. Any bit of flat, rocky "beach" is either the site of a research facility, penguin rookery or both.
The landscape is so forbidding we were all amazed at the wildlife that seems to be everywhere. We slowly, slowly, slowly went by enormous sheets of sea ice where seals were lolling about. The naturalist said it was highly unusual to see multiple seals on the same ice. The sea ice is flat and forms every winter, then disappears in the summer. These sheets were the size of a football field and riddled with cracks. Everyone was taking pictures like mad.
Then we came upon dozens of penguins dolphining and feeding while their chicks waited in the rookeries for food. And whales! Humpbacks and orcas were all about spouting, surfacing and showing their flukes. Quite the floorshow.
Around a bend we came abreast of a Chilean scientific station on a spit of land they shared with a huge penguin rookery. It was built at the site of one of the first camps where two scientists spent the winter camped under the hull of an ice boat on shore. Now it's a series of buildings with a small pier leading to a small dock. And in the cove? A sailboat! A sloop maybe 40-50 long. It was just pulling anchor and heading who knows where. This is not the first private yacht we've seen down here. So unexpected! It took us two days at 19 knots to get here from the Falklands. Who knows how long it took them. Plus it is cold outside!!!! A constant 0 degrees centigrade.
We were headed to a certain passage, hoping to find it ice free. There aren't the huge fresh water icebergs we saw yesterday, but there are dozens, hundreds of smaller ones plus the ice floes. Gradually we slowed and saw a much smaller French liner heading out of the pass. Evidently that captain told ours they had made it through, but just barely, so Captain P J (he has a long, multisyllabic Dutch name so just goes by his initials) made the sensible decision to make a U-turn and go to more hospitable waters.
I layered up before deck time: Cuddleduds neck to ankle, jeans and then long-sleeved UnderArmour, polar fleece, heavy knitted cowl, Carhardt super wool socks, Merrel hiking boots, finished with heavy, lined coat, hat and gloves! It was zero degrees on the deck with an apparent wind of 10 to 14 knots so it had to be colder with the wind chill. The channels are narrow with mountain ranges soaring on both sides the tops and valleys are covered with FEET of pure, white snow. We all keep gasping in awe, trying to find new words.
When my cheeks (heavily coated with SPF sunblock) get too cold, it's time to go inside and find a comfy chair in one of the bars, lounges, library or our stateroom and just watch the scenery glide by.
It's so quiet here, just the occasional cry of a sea bird.
As is our custom, we have a pre-dinner cocktail in the Crow's Nest every night around 7:30. Tonight we were all entertained by a huge pod of Humpback whales swimming ahead of us with lots of spouting, flipping and fluke waving. You begin to wonder if they know we're watching and applauding and are putting on a show.
We opened the drapes this morning to find we were slowly and closely passing a colony of breeding Gentoo penguins. The rookery covered a point of dirt and rocks. The birds seem to be in constant motion and when we opened the door to the balcony, fortunately upwind, we could hear them. It was a soft sound like a cross between clucking and purring.
From the height of the ship's decks (the air is so clear that it's difficult to judge distances; what seems close might actually be a mile or better away) the animals, whether penguins, seals or even whales, look small. The penguins look like tiny dots on the ice as we pass. To confirm that I'm actually looking at penguins I've learned to zoom in on anything tiny on ice or shore with my little but mighty Canon Super Shot and run off a few frames. I'm continually amazed at the excellent pictures I'm getting. Probably nothing to compare with those taken by the people with the fancy cameras and big long lenses, but hit the button enough times and the odds are I'll get some good photos!
Today were cruising between the South Shetland Islands and the coast of Antarctica. As we've learned from the wonderful talks given by the experts on board, the continent is mountainous and all but covered with ice and a lot of snow. The whole coastline is brown/black mountains, 4,000' high running down to the sea. There are a lot of coves and bays and channels. Any bit of flat, rocky "beach" is either the site of a research facility, penguin rookery or both.
The landscape is so forbidding we were all amazed at the wildlife that seems to be everywhere. We slowly, slowly, slowly went by enormous sheets of sea ice where seals were lolling about. The naturalist said it was highly unusual to see multiple seals on the same ice. The sea ice is flat and forms every winter, then disappears in the summer. These sheets were the size of a football field and riddled with cracks. Everyone was taking pictures like mad.
Then we came upon dozens of penguins dolphining and feeding while their chicks waited in the rookeries for food. And whales! Humpbacks and orcas were all about spouting, surfacing and showing their flukes. Quite the floorshow.
Around a bend we came abreast of a Chilean scientific station on a spit of land they shared with a huge penguin rookery. It was built at the site of one of the first camps where two scientists spent the winter camped under the hull of an ice boat on shore. Now it's a series of buildings with a small pier leading to a small dock. And in the cove? A sailboat! A sloop maybe 40-50 long. It was just pulling anchor and heading who knows where. This is not the first private yacht we've seen down here. So unexpected! It took us two days at 19 knots to get here from the Falklands. Who knows how long it took them. Plus it is cold outside!!!! A constant 0 degrees centigrade.
We were headed to a certain passage, hoping to find it ice free. There aren't the huge fresh water icebergs we saw yesterday, but there are dozens, hundreds of smaller ones plus the ice floes. Gradually we slowed and saw a much smaller French liner heading out of the pass. Evidently that captain told ours they had made it through, but just barely, so Captain P J (he has a long, multisyllabic Dutch name so just goes by his initials) made the sensible decision to make a U-turn and go to more hospitable waters.
I layered up before deck time: Cuddleduds neck to ankle, jeans and then long-sleeved UnderArmour, polar fleece, heavy knitted cowl, Carhardt super wool socks, Merrel hiking boots, finished with heavy, lined coat, hat and gloves! It was zero degrees on the deck with an apparent wind of 10 to 14 knots so it had to be colder with the wind chill. The channels are narrow with mountain ranges soaring on both sides the tops and valleys are covered with FEET of pure, white snow. We all keep gasping in awe, trying to find new words.
When my cheeks (heavily coated with SPF sunblock) get too cold, it's time to go inside and find a comfy chair in one of the bars, lounges, library or our stateroom and just watch the scenery glide by.
It's so quiet here, just the occasional cry of a sea bird.
As is our custom, we have a pre-dinner cocktail in the Crow's Nest every night around 7:30. Tonight we were all entertained by a huge pod of Humpback whales swimming ahead of us with lots of spouting, flipping and fluke waving. You begin to wonder if they know we're watching and applauding and are putting on a show.
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