Journey to S. America Falklands and Antarctica

 November 10 th – 14 th , 2023 Our expedition leader Aaron warned us about a fierce storm moving into the Drake Passage.   He urged everyone to take seasickness medicine and secure items in our cabins.   The ship’s crew hurriedly worked to batten down the hatches--they re-bolted steel coverings over the windows of the primary lounge on the third deck and secured the dining room chairs to the floor.   It seemed our incredible luck of fair weather was about to expire.   Winds of 60 knots and fifteen-foot seas were forecasted for the entire two-day crossing.   The captain wasted no time, weighed anchor, and turned north as soon as the last Zodiac was lashed to the deck. In truth, we were anxious and a bit excited at the same time.   Henry and I were well prepared with our scopolamine patches and looked forward to a little high seas drama.   “Bring it on,” we joked.   But once again, our luck held, and the Sea Spirit outran the storm.   Our crossing was smoother than most of our other

  Friday November 10 th , 2023 Today is our last day in Antarctica before we head across the Drake Passage to our final destination of Ushuaia Argentina, the southernmost city in the world.   Our ship anchored off Cuverville Island with a plan to visit one of the largest gentoo penguin colonies on the peninsula. At 5:00AM, the expedition team shot across the choppy gray water in their Zodiacs to scout out the landing zone, only to find it choked by ice.   A landing would be impossible.   We were informed to stand by as the ship relocated to an alternate location, Chiriguano Bay, that was free of heavy ice and sheltered from the wind. Gentoo penguin on an ice flow calling out for its mates Henry and I joined a group of excited Taiwanese travelers along with our spirited expedition guide, Eloisa, who also serves as the kayak team leader.  After a five-minute ride at full throttle, we arrived in front of a huge glacier. “This is close enough,” Eloisa warned, knowing these ice walls can

  Thursday, November 9 th , 2023 Thursday morning we were located in Dorian Bay off Damoy Point. The kayak team was the first to disembark so we quickly geared up, jumped in a Zodiac, and zipped across the bay.   It was relatively calm, but shortly after the entire group was in the water and paddling, we noticed the wind increase and an abort call came across the radio from the expedition leader.   The wind was reportedly blowing over 20 knots at the ship, although it wasn’t that bad where we were paddling. This official decision was much to the chagrin of our passionate and fearless kayak team leader, Eloisa, who rolled her eyes in frustration.   But we had no choice.   We had to retreat to the ship. Gentoo penguins hanging on the bluff Henry and I quickly switched from our kayak gear to standard hiking outerwear and made our way back to the ship’s marina at the stern.   We cruised to Damoy Point under a huge glacier with a large section of ice that looked like it would calve at a

  Wednesday, November 8 th , 2023 The Landing Our first glimpse of Antarctica from our balcony on Wednesday morning was breathtaking.   We knew it was going to be a magical day.   We started out with a kayak paddle, exploring the coastline dotted with small groups of gentoo penguins, while Weddell seals lounged on an ice flow. Large, clear chunks of ice bobbed around us, and we gathered a couple pieces for our afternoon cocktails. Our guide explained that the ice came from the bottom of glaciers and is thousands—maybe a million--years old.   The views of the steep, snow-covered mountains were incredible.   We eventually transferred from our kayaks to a Zodiac and were ferried to the land. A view from our landing on Antarctica! The expedition team selected a prime area for disembarkation which was lined with smooth, pale rocks that served as a perfect boat ramp.   Once on Antarctica proper we were greeted by a curious Adelie penguin--the only one encountered on our expedition.   He

  Sunday November 5 th – Tuesday November 7, 2023 Elephant Seal, Fortuna Bay Sunday was the first of two full days cruising the open ocean from South Georgia Island to Antarctica.  Among the many beautiful ice forms. we witnessed a giant tabular iceberg.  I had no idea how large icebergs could be, but this behemoth measured thirty-four miles long by twenty-two miles wide!  Labeled as D28D, it split away from one of the glaciers on the coast of Antarctica and is now drifting out to sea like a large city in the middle of nowhere.  Incredible. One tiny section of the tabular iceberg D28D that went on an incredible 34 miles long. We busied ourselves in various seminars and other activities until Tuesday morning when we awoke a little before 5:00AM with the ship positioned just off the coast of Elephant Island.  This inhospitable piece of rock is one of the northernmost South Shetland Islands.  The small beach within view was where Ernest Shackleton and his crew landed in three lifeboa

  Saturday, November 4 th 2023      Kayaking Fortuna Bay I am beginning to run out of superlatives to describe the experience of exploring South Georgia Island. Saturday was our last day in the area before we headed back out to sea toward Antarctica.   As a result, our expedition leader maximized the day by providing three different tours starting at 5:00AM!   Henry and I joined the majority of other passengers for a 4:30AM wake up.   We made believe we were rising early to go fishing.   This operation included a brief Zodiac tour of Hercules Bay to view a small colony of macaroni penguins. Our guide Eloisa first took us out to the mouth of the bay to view some of the icebergs which shone brilliantly in the rising sun. Only a handful of penguins had returned from the sea to this section of beach in front of a tall waterfall—but it made a lovely scene--after a brief visit we made our way back to the Sea Spirit. Macaroni penguins, Hercules Bay Next stop was Fortuna Bay a little fart

  Thursday – Friday, November 2-3, 2023 On Thursday morning the captain attempted to anchor our ship just outside of St. Andrews Bay, but wicked winds whipped up and large icebergs began bearing down on us. It’s crazy to imagine that of all the hazards in the Southern Ocean, you don’t just have to worry about crashing into an iceberg, you have to worry about one crashing into you! Henry keeping an eye out for icebergs We adjusted our position, fought against heavy winds, and managed to cruise close by two whaling stations at Leith Harbor and Stromness, which is where Ernest Shackleton and two of his men arrived after their harrowing hike over the icy ridges, following their treacherous open water journey from Elephant Island. We could see the white siding of the station master’s house where Shackleton knocked (there’s talk of restoring it). The town is otherwise a deserted rusty wreck. The abandoned Stromness Whaling Station, The white structure at the center is the manager's h

  Wednesday, November 1 st Rusting relic of the whale ship Petrel, Grytviken, South Georgia Once again, we were blessed with an incredible morning weather-wise.   Our ship moored in Cumberland Bay just off Grytviken, which was placid and peaceful with a gentle breeze.   The water was like glass and the skies were a deep blue, speckled with only a few clouds.   A large herd of elephant seals lined the beach, barking and moaning sleepily.   Behind them was a small huddle of king penguins standing at attention. Elephant seal pup It was a perfect morning for our team of sea kayakers to practice our skills.   We were shuttled out to the middle of the bay on a Zodiac that towed the kayaks off the stern.   It was a bit tricky to transfer into the sleek boat, but Henry and I picked it up quickly and easily began plying the waters.   We cruised the shoreline coming within 20 yards of elephant seals.   There were several large bulls (some exceeding 12’ and 4,000 pounds) out in front of their h

  Wednesday, November 1 st I did not think I would have much to write about during our journey from the Falklands down to South Georgia, but there are a few things to note.   As we made our way southeast, we came within sight of our first icebergs somewhere around the 51 st parallel.   The drop in air temperature was quite evident.   As we steamed ahead at about 15 knots it seemed as though we were traveling along an ocean highway lined with huge icebergs on each side of the ship guiding the way.   I am comforted by the fact that our ship is outfitted with state-of-the-art equipment, especially radar so we could easily steer clear of the bergs! Our first iceberg, shaped like the base of a giant sequoia tree The captain also drew our attention to Shag Rocks as we passed them. The small, pinnacle shaped islands in the middle of the Southern Ocean serve as a rookery for Blue-eyed shags.   It was comforting to see some sort of land after passing though a large expanse of nothingness. A