First off, let me just declare: it was worth it.
In the past six months I’ve had moments of doubt, wondering if our second Antarctic experience would be good enough to warrant a second trip to the bottom of the world – but it was absolutely amazing.
We departed from spring-time Ushuaia in a gray mist of rain, reacquainting ourselves with the Fram, which felt so familiar – and yes, the dent in the starboard side remains, though it’s been pushed back slightly and painted over. The Drake Passage was so calm it earned “Drake Lake” status, and on our second morning on the boat we approached the South Shetland Islands, in which we spent so much time last year.
We landed again at Half-Moon island, but it was a whole new experience, as the island lacked the snow-cover we’d seen it with last, so in a gray drizzle we splashed through puddles to see the chinstrap penguins, as well as one lone macaroni penguin, with his splashes of orange and yellow eye feathers.
We then hung a right, heading down along the Antarctic Peninsula, and were in new territory! We sailed to Deception Island, a sunken caldera that has the remains of a whaling station on its black-sand beach, surrounded by snow marked with soot.
The next morning we landed at Cuverville Island, where we got to know the biggest known rookery of gentoo penguins. The bay is filled with blue-tinged icebergs, and as we took the PolarCirkel boats to shore we crunched through smaller pieces of ice and got a close look at the bobbing bergs – they’re all unique, worn down by wind and water, solid ice, though from afar they look like snow you could punch right through.
The penguins are, as usual, so much fun to watch, as they waddle along their ‘penguin highways’ in the snow – so graceful as they leap through the water, but so clumsy once their feet hit land. At the nesting site, one ambitious penguin steals rocks from his neighbor’s nests, much to their annoyance. They regard us with mild curiosity, often waddling right for us before suddenly stopping, as if only realizing we’re there. I could watch them for hours!
We sail through the Lemaire Channel, nicknamed the “Kodak Crack” because of the frenzied photography it prompts. We crowd on deck in our blue coats, lining the edge as the boat moved through the floating ice – it’s still and quiet out of the wind, but the silence is broken by cameras clicking and the booming and cracking noises made as our hull crunches through small icebergs. The channel is narrow, surrounded by mountains, glaciers, snow and low clouds hiding a gray sky, and we catch glimpses of Minke whales, seals, and penguins. “THIS is why we came back,” Sean says, and I can’t agree more.
We land again that evening, at Petermann Island, and changing ice conditions mean a shortened time, and we must choose – baby penguins or icebergs. We divide and conquer, and I head up the hill to an overlook to the bay on the other side, where the tide traps icebergs and then releases them again. A random conglomeration of bergs bobs up and down, waiting to be free again. We can see the mainland - the Antarctic Peninsula and its jagged, snow-covered mountains. It’s a (sometimes nerve-wracking) journey through the ice to get back to the boat, and I’m reminded yet again of the unpredictable nature of Antarctica.
We retrace our steps in the night, and in the morning wake to find ice and fog, and we’re unable to land in two places, both on the continent itself. We cruise into Wilhelmena Bay, but the fog still lingers, and we’re starting to get a little restless. The day is saved when we’re sent out for a cruise in the Polar Cirkel boats, into an experience that is one of my favorites from the trip. We cruise among the icebergs at the foot of a glacier that towers above us, broken with blue-tinged fissures, looking like a piece could plummet to the sea at any moment. The PolarCirkel boats are amazing, and we got quite close to bergs both big and small – something I won’t soon forget.
The next morning finds us in the Antarctic sound under sunny skies, and we cruise for icebergs in the deep blue water, through whitecaps whipped up by the wind, taking brief forays onto the deck to capture particularly stunning bergs.
It’s too windy to attempt a landing at Brown’s Bluff (and, given our past experience there, I’m glad we didn’t try it), but now we were starting to get tense. This was it. We had one last chance for a landing – at Esperanza Station – and a fitting name: Esperanza means Hope. It’s windy, so we wait. And wait. And wait.
Then, the announcement: We’re going in!
We are elated, but until I’m actually on my way to shore, I don’t believe it’s going to happen. But it does.
The base itself is mildly interesting, to see how people live here, so far from everything, and we take a brief tour before heading back to the boats. That’s when Richard and Sean go swimming. Yes, swimming. They’re not in for long, but long enough to lay claim to the bragging rights! And as we wait to head back to the Fram, I try to wrap my head around the fact that my feet are actually on Antarctica proper, and that those feet could (in theory, of course) carry me to the south pole.
The ride back to the boat was windy and wild, bumpy and full of spray, but it was all worth it. Our quest was complete. But there was one more surprise in store for us – midway across the drake passage, a pod of humpback whales was spotted nearby, so we headed in their direction and stopped the engines.
There were wales EVERYWHERE. At least 12-15 of them, they circled the boat for at least an hour, surfacing right below our feet, blowing into the air and grunting their arrival before diving back underwater their dark shapes marked by their white flippers, which gave off a clear blue light in the water. Everywhere we looked, there they were. All I had to do was stand in one spot and watch. The entire ship spilled onto the decks, and even the Expedition Team, some of who have years of experience, said they’d never seen such a big pod so close to the boat. It was stunning. A perfect end to the cruise.
Now I’ve seen Antarctica like it’s meant to be seen. I know that no two trips are the same, and even this time we had a few reminders that Antarctica is untamable and unpredictable, but I think that’s part of what makes it so wild and beautiful. Between the two trips, I feel like I’ve seen quite a lot – because amidst the problems last year, we did see some amazing things. And I’m sure that if I ever venture there again in the future, there will be new surprises and experiences in store for me.
We also did some traveling on either side of the cruise, but I’ll save that for another day!
