February 20-28th, 2017 (written at the end of the cruise)
There was a wake-up call over the Polar Pioneer’s PA system, usually around 7 AM, announcing breakfast at 7:30 and the expected time for disembarkation for the morning’s shore-based activities. However, a wake-up call at 6 AM to witness our passage through the awesome Lemaire Channel prompted one of the 54 to retort “I thought this was a holiday!” But it was worth it, as these pictures show!
In the Lemaire Channel – it was worth the early wake up call!
Another view of the Lemaire Channel (the mast is not curved – it’s a wide angle image)
So the day started with breakfast. All meals were in the communal dining rooms, and we were free to sit wherever. There was always copious food, an overabundance, actually! Breakfast was self-served: fruit, yoghurt, cereals, eggs, bacon or sausages, bread or toast, and vegemite was definitely available – much to the bemusement of the non-Aussies! Lunch was a two course meal, dinner three courses. These were served by waitresses who not only knew our names, and who had ordered vegetarian or gluten free meals, but managed the food carrying business during storms with considerable skill. Tea, coffee, fruit and goodies were available all the time.
Before dinner we’d have a meeting in the bar where the expedition leaders and biologist would recap the day’s outings, and we could share experiences or ask questions. The meeting would close with an outline of the following day’s activities.
A festive meal!
Each day we had morning and afternoon landings, except during the big storm. Most were on small islands with penguin rookeries and seal colonies. We had to dress warmly and appropriately, including water and penguin-poo proof trousers, water and wind proof jackets, and life jackets. Oh, and remember to go to the loo before putting all this gear on! After turning our personal tags to “Off” (see the post on zodiacs) we congregated on the foredeck and washed our boots in a disinfectant to minimise the spread of diseases and alien species from one part of Antarctica to the next. On our return we reversed this process, turned out tags to “On”, disrobed - and then went to the loo.
Boot cleaning, before and after a landing
The loo issue was important as there were no loos on our landings! If you needed to go, the only option was to summon a lift back to the boat on a zodiac. I was once pretty desperate so had to do this, and I just missed the zodiac so it was a bit of a wait. The expedition leader surprised me when he said, “OK, pee in the sea”. The problem was that to do so required removing all that clothing, and that meantx removing my gum boots amidst the penguin poo, so there was little possibility I, or anyone, would pee in the sea! I sat very still on a rock conversing with penguins, and trying not to think of flowing water.
You pissed me off!
The old loo in Wordie House – not for use, even in emergencies!
Our landings were not exactly strenuous! We couldn’t actually walk very far for various reasons. Besides, they gave us ample opportunity to simply be amongst the amazing wildlife of the Antarctic Peninsula and witness their natural behaviour seemingly unconcerned by two-legged interlopers. Simply sitting on a rock, or just standing around, was an open invitation for Gentoo penguins to waddle over and peck at our boots or walking poles, or for an opportunistic chick to beg for food. No, you didn’t need to walk far!
The almost inevitable gaggle of admiring Gentoo
We made two landings on the Antarctic mainland, and I started walking towards the South Pole. On one I only managed about 200 m before it was time to leave; I was seriously distracted by penguins and other birds. At the other, the way was blocked by a huge icefall. This rumbled and grumbled, and we all were hoping for a calving into the sea, but sadly it resolutely refused!
The route to the South Pole was blocked – note the penguin in bottom right!
Two landings featured old British research stations which are now museums: Wordie House on one of the Argentine Islands, and Bransfield House on Goudier Island. The latter is manned (in this case womaned) over summer by a small group of volunteers who carry out maintenance jobs, run the post office, and welcome visitors such as us and give them a guided tour of the old base. These old bases were 1950’s vintage, and the various processed foods, artefacts and luxuries of everyday life took me back to my childhood on the farm in Sheffield. On the other hand, the specialised Antarctic gear they used were a far cry from modern mountaineering, skiing and bushwalking gear.
Interior views at Wordie House
This alarm clock and ludo board could have been mine as a child!
Another landing was to visit Vernadsky Station. This is an active Ukrainian research station that was originally British but was sold to Ukraine for a pound sterling in 1996. We were given a tour of the station, and some of the scientists talked about their science, e.g. atmospheric physics and meteorological studies. The scientific and personal equipment of Vernadsky was far more state of the art than what we’d seen in the nearby Wordie House!
Living conditions seemed very comfortable, a veritable home away from home, with the common rooms very homely. Their pub had a bit of an English Pub look to it, but the barman was uncommunicative, and boasted “The southern-most souvenir shop on Earth”. I gathered all personnel at Vernadsky where men, yet it did have a loo for women which contained the station’s washing machine. A serious case of stereotyping?
Vernadsky Station, and its pub
Other activities offered were snorkelling, scuba diving and kayaking – at considerable extra cost. The kayakers clearly had a lot of fun and had their own close encounters with both wildlife and sea ice. My impression was that the snorkelers and scuba divers really didn’t see much, but I might be wrong. Certainly, looking into the clear water from the zodiacs revealed very little biology in the surface waters.
The kayakers at play
Scuba gear stowed on deck, and scuba divers off to play
We didn’t get to sleep on the ice, but some did take the Polar Plunge. I’d planned to, but “penguin flu” was making me so fevery I decided against it. Isn’t old age meant to bring wisdom? But look at that amazed penguin in the image below!
Taking the plunge!
Besides lectures and landings, there were other ways to spend one’s time on the Polar Pioneer. The ship’s bridge was a popular place to hang-out, and a great place for wildlife spotting. It was a peaceful place, even in the wild storm we had heading north from the Antarctic Circle. Music was usually playing quietly in the background, sometimes Russian songs, other times music with a “new age” feel to it, depending on who was navigating at the time.
How to drive a ship – is there an ap for this?
A storm is brewing – view from the bridge
Sheltering from the storm
Finally, weather permitting, it was great being out in the open on the decks, especially at the bow. The view was always awesome, with icebergs of all sizes and shapes floating serenely by, glaciers descending into the sea, and rocky and icy mountains soaring out of and reflected in the calm water. This is from where the few whales we saw were spotted, and of course we saw many birds wheeling over the sea, and seals and penguins sitting alone on bits of ice floating by. When I say “floating by”, it was of course us that was moving as the actual ice was relatively stationary, there being no strong currents.
Looking over the bow at my reflection
A seal lording it over its domain
On the very rare occasions when the sun was shining, some expeditioners even tried sun-bathing in the lee of the hull!
Sunbathing, or sheltering from the bitter wind?
There was actually quite a bit of free time in the day, and as a group we spent this in various ways: on the bridge, on the open deck watching the world go by, in the bar or dining rooms, or in our cabins.
Watching the world go by
Next up? Mountains along the Antarctic Peninsula … stay tuned.
No comments:
Post a Comment