Day 9: For those of us who just took a few moments to sit and observe penguin life, we were rewarded with close encounters with a curious species.


Day 9: These chinstraps are waddling out to sea to take their turns at eating and bathing.


Day 10: The Adelie penguin colony at Paulet Island. All those black dots down below are penguins.


Day 10: A tabular iceberg in the Weddell Sea, likely haven broken off from the Larsen Ice Shelf. How big is it? 100 ft. tall? A mile long? It's impossible to tell.


Day 11: The Chilean base where we "officially" stepped onto the Antarctic Peninsula.


Day 11: Dad's favorite place on the ship: the bridge (in fact, you can see him in the background). We would hang out there for hours - looking out for birds, whales, icebergs, glaciers, and listen to the captain give commands.


Day 12: Goodbye Antarctica. Hello again, Drake Passage.


Day 13: Back in the Beagle Channel. Yay vegetation!


Day 13: Cutthroat Uno game. The little guy on the left was the only kid on the ship, and he became my surrogate nephew for the cruise.


Day 14: The view from above Ushuaia, looking back down on the ship. What an amazing adventure. THANKS, DAD!!!

Merry Christmas and more pictures

Not quite going to get all of them up tonight, but here's at least some proof that we were actually in Antarctica!




















Day 5: Now we get rough seas AND snow!

Day 5: Sitting in the captain’s chair: the ship had an open bridge policy, which we frequently took advantage of both for the great views and the interaction with the crew.

Day 6: Land ho! The first land we had seen in two days - a welcome sight.














Day 6: Loading the Zodiacs for our first boat tour in Antarctica.














Day 6: Walking on the fast ice: A sheet of sea ice spread between two land masses. We could feel the tides gently lifting the ice beneath us - pretty amazing.


Day 7: The Lemaire Channel. Enough said.


Day 7: Had to do it. Loved my pretty blue boots while kayaking in Antarctica.


Day 8: The only grass species in Antarctica. I had to risk getting in trouble from the naturalists to take this picture.


Day 8: Gentoo penguins at Cuverville Island. Notice in the background the penguins laying on their eggs on nests made of small stones.


Day 8: Those penguins sure have a terrible landscape to look at each day.

Greetings from Santiago and pictures

We've made it a third of the way home (actually neither in space nor in time, but in number of flights) and I'm taking advantage of a good Internet connection in the Santiago airport and a long layover to update the blog and post the first of the pictures.

However, it ain't over 'til it's over. Turns out that we were invited to "dine" with the captain for the farewell dinner last night on the ship. I was intimidated as he's the big boss man, but he is a very gracious and interesting person, and it was quite an enjoyable dinner. We docked in Ushuaia last night and got to go ashore for a midnightish stroll on the longest day of the year, during which we were wearing fleece and wool hats.

So...on to the pictures. I'm going to start from where I left off at the beginning of the trip:


Day 3: Beech trees in the national park near Ushuaia. The last trees we would see for two weeks.


Day 3: Sea lions we saw during our catamaran tour in the Beagle Channel before embarking on the ship.


Day 3: The library on the top deck of the Explorer. It actually had a really nice collection of books about Antarctica and the Arctic, from natural history, history of exploration, environmental-type books, and fiction. I spent a lot of time up here just looking out the windows and contemplating the landscape.




Day 4: The Drake Passage from the bow of the ship. This picture does not do it justice.

Will post more pictures tomorrow. We're getting to boarding time.... excited to be home!

In Search of Land

Day 10: December 18, 2008, The Weddell Sea

One of my fellow passengers asked me today what has been the most surprising part about Antarctica. I said scale, which I’ve mentioned in previous posts. It’s difficult to distinguish size, mass, and even time in this environment. For example, we started passing by immense tabular icebergs today. I learned that most of these bergs had once been part of the Larsen Ice Shelf, which protrudes from a large part of the east side of the Antarctic Peninsula. Part of this ice shelf broke off several years ago, and satellites have spotted another large crack in the shelf this season. Most scientists are attributing these events to global climate change, so by observing these icebergs, I am most likely looking climate change directly in the face. But back to scale…it’s impossible to tell whether these bergs are 50 ft. or 400 ft. tall, and some of them look like they could be a mile long.

The woman who asked me the question said that texture has been the most surprising part to her. We see texture changing constantly – through distance and through time. Each iceberg has its own texture. The land has texture, from glaciers to rock to moss. And then the water has texture. Sometimes it’s been rough with waves and white caps. Just once it’s been so smooth as to create a mirror. Right now it’s dark and wavy, and the entire ship is listing to the starboard side from the wind.

As if yesterday’s gigantic colony of chinstrap penguins weren’t enough (and the estimate went up from 50,000-60,000 to 70,000 breeding pairs), today we visited an Adelie penguin colony on Paulet Island with an estimated 100,000 breeding pairs (meaning at least 200,000 individuals, not counting chicks). The real treat was to see that many chicks have already hatched and are probably at least a couple of weeks old. After leaving Paulet Island, we headed south down the peninsula through the Weddell Sea (not far from where Shackleton and his crew drifted northward after their ship was crushed by ice farther south), intending to go to Snow Hill Island. Once again, however, wind and ice have dictated our fate, and some very dense sea ice has forced us to turn around and head north. Given that tomorrow is our last full day in Antarctica, we will go south no more and will continue to make our way north, hopefully with a few more stops along the way.

Day 11: December 19, 2008, Gerlache Strait, then Charlotte Bay, then Neko Harbor, then Paradise Harbor

Last night felt like the Drake Passage all over again. The ship started rocking as we headed north and back around to the west side of the Antarctic Peninsula, and it didn’t stop until well into this morning. In fact, the swells seemed to get larger through the morning until we got into the shelter of the Gerlache Strait and on the lee side of some islands.

Our objective today was to land on the continent proper (meaning the actual peninsula rather than the bordering islands). Several people on the ship don’t consider themselves to have actually been to Antarctica unless they’ve stepped foot on the continent. Dad and I agreed that we’ve seen what we wanted to see and had the experiences we’ve hoped for, and that we have the Antarctic “credentials” no matter if we’ve actually stood on the peninsula. Because the wind has been very strong today, the crew had difficulty finding a good landing, and thus we traveled from harbor to harbor. We finally called upon the staff at the Chilean Gonzalez Videla base, and they welcomed us (and our dollars) with open arms so that we might step foot on land once more – and this time officially on the peninsula. The tiny base also sported a small colony of gentoo penguins, so I snapped a few photos and said goodbye to the land and the penguins.

The one thing I hadn’t really seen before today was whales, and given my previous good karma with whale watching, I thought it was about time. After lunch, a bunch of us decided to go up on the bridge to look for whales as we continued to search for a place to land. As luck would have it, within two minutes of getting up to the bridge, we spotted two humpback whales – a mom and her calf, and the captain was gracious enough to slow the boat so we could observe them for some time. So now I am truly satisfied with all we have seen and witnessed, and though I am sad to leave, I plan to be back someday and am ready to face the Drake once more.

Day 12: December 20, 2008

Back in the Drake

Sure enough, as soon as we got away from land yesterday evening, the swells built up again and the ship started rocking. I spent a couple of hours after dinner up on the bridge riding the swells with some other brave but happy souls. It’s better than a roller coaster!

I kept waking up in a dreamy state last night, thinking that as the bow rose on top of one of the swells, a gust of wind was going to knock the entire ship on its side. It never happened, of course, and I still feel the ship is very stable and safe, but it just shows what 10 days of moving water will do to the mind.

A note about pictures, again: Because the internet is so slow on the ship and we only have limited minutes, I have not posted any pictures, and I apologize. A description of Antarctica is certainly not complete without pictures. I’m hoping that I can get a faster connection at one of the airports on the way home and at least start posting a few, and then I’ll post more once I’m back in Vegas. So stay tuned…it’s not over yet!

Penguins, ice, penguins, ice....

Day 7: December 15, 2008, Crystal Strait and Grandidier Channel

Today was a day of foiled landings and more spectacular views. In the morning, we were hoping to stop at Fish Islands and Prospect Point, but the sea ice was thick and the staff was not able to find a suitable landing spot. So we stayed on board, heard a lecture on ice (by a pagophile, or ice-lover!), and watched the scenery pass by. The weather was mostly clear with no wind – some of the nicest weather we’ve had so far. They took us to a place where we’d be kayaking in the afternoon, and the captain parked the boat by crashing into a sheet of fast ice. This time I was smart and got right up on the bow to watch as the ship broke into the ice – truly amazing, as the ice is quite thick. Just as amazing, however, is to watch the thick ice slow and eventually stop the forward progression of the ship. Time for lunch!

In the afternoon, we loaded on to inflatable kayaks. The water was perfectly still, and the reflections of the icebergs and bergy bits (smaller icebergs) were stunning. It felt really good to be moving about somewhat, as we have yet to set foot on actual land since we boarded the ship in Ushuaia. Amazingly, we were too warm in our hats, gloves, and multiple layers.

Though kayaking in Antarctica is pretty unique and spectacular, the highlight of the day for me was probably passing through the Lemaire Channel – a narrow passage between two high, rocky, highly glaciated peaks. As we passed through, the still water created a mirror against the peaks – a remarkably breathtaking sight. We also had to remind ourselves that we were standing out there at 10:00 pm watching this.

Here’s a description I wrote today to try to describe more clearly the sights I’ve been seeing: I’m sitting in the observation deck, on the top floor of the ship. It’s a long, narrow galley with big windows on each side. I’m having my afternoon green tea and butter cookies, and it’s the first few moments of quiet I’ve had all day. Outside, the water is like glass, reflecting the images of the snow- and ice-covered peaks on the starboard side of the ship, with the breeze creating small ripples every now and again. Scale is impossible to determine here, so that these peaks could be 1,000 ft. or 10,000 ft. tall. Every few minutes, we pass by an iceberg – sometimes tabular (flat on top), sometimes with non-descript shape, but always unique and awesome. The mixture of blues and whites within each berg are impossible to capture on film. The sun, which is managing to shine clear despite the considerable cloud cover all around, provides the only shading relief to distinguish sea, sky, and ice. To each passing land or ice form, I send one thought: I’ll be back.

Day 8: December 16, 2008, Cuverville Island and Port Lockroy

We are halfway through our trip. In some ways, it feels like we’ve been gone a month. On the other hand, I dread that we only have three days left in Antarctica.

Weather and ice dictated our activities today. The sea ice conditions can change so fast, so that even if we find a good landing, the ice could move in during our time ashore and make our departure difficult. We were able to make a landing this morning at Cuverville Island, at a gentoo penguin colony with 6,000 breeding pairs. It was a great opportunity for me to just sit and observe penguin behavior at very close range, while everyone else was very concerned with taking pictures. For all of you waiting for your own live penguin gift, I tried my hardest to lure them into my jacket, but these birds of Very Little Brain are just a bit too smart. Really, though, the highlight for me this morning was the sighting of one of the two vascular plants on the continent: a grass (Deschampsia antarctica). I dropped to my knees and started taking pictures and examining it, while the other guests looked at me quizzically, curious as to why I’d be more interested in this green thing than charismatic penguins.

This afternoon we made a landing at Port Lockroy, which is a former British research station and is now maintained as a museum and gift shop. Theoretically, I now have an official Antarctica stamp on my passport. The weather turned more and more inclement throughout the afternoon, so that as we boarded the Zodiacs to go back to the ship, it was quite windy, getting colder, and starting to snow sideways. Gave us a small idea of what it would be like to live here, and this is the middle of the summer.

Day 9: December 17, 2008, Deception Island

When I woke up this morning and pulled up the shades on our window (which is the first thing I do every morning and one of the favorite parts of my daily ritual on the ship), I saw brown land. This is quite remarkable as virtually all the land we’ve seen thus far in Antarctica has been white, with the exception of the vertical rocky cliffs of the mountains. I was looking at Deception Island, a donut-shaped volcanic island that houses a flooded caldera in its center. The staff had told us last night that we might be able to visit a very large chinstrap penguin colony on the island, but that the landing is usually very difficult and subject to wind, tide, and wave conditions. Mother Nature worked in our favor this morning (really some of the first real luck we’ve had in that department), and we did indeed get to go ashore.

This colony of penguins has 50,000-60,000 breeding pairs (meaning up to 120,000 breeding penguins plus assorted non-breeding individuals). The colony is divided into smaller sub-colonies, which tend to sit atop rocky outcroppings or hillocks. There’s a penguin superhighway that goes from each of the sub-colonies to the ocean, where the little birds go to clean themselves and feed in between spells of sitting on eggs and chicks. The birds walking towards the water are dirty with mud and feces, and the birds walking back towards the colonies are shiny clean. Amazing. After hiking a bit around a little section of island, both Dad and I just sat and watched. Several penguins would come to within a few feet – I swear they’re just as curious as we are, and they would probably take as many pictures if they knew how to operate cameras. Given the sheer numbers of birds, I was fortunate to observe most of the behaviors we’ve been learning about: feeding young chicks (probably less than a week old), partners changing places in the nest to sit on the egg(s), nest-building, aggression towards unwanted individuals hanging out near nests, evidence of egg predation by skuas, and I’m pretty sure I even saw some mating.

I’m actually sitting out on this afternoon’s activities. We’ve traveled inside the caldera on the island, and we can go ashore and visit some old whaling station buildings, but I’m not all that interested and sort of just need a break – from the cold, the people, and the feeling of being constantly overwhelmed. But this evening we’re heading around the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula into the Weddell sea, and I’ll definitely be ready to get back out there and see, smell, hear, and absorb more tomorrow!

Mind-blowing and indescribable

Day 5: December 13, 2008, The Drake Passage (still)

Day 5 of traveling and we’re still not there. The weather was actually more inclement today, although the sailing was not nearly as rough. It started snowing sometime in the morning and continued snowing throughout the day. We crossed the Antarctic Convergence yesterday evening, where the water temperature drops dramatically to just above freezing. It also marks the official geographic start of the Antarctic. We started seeing more Antarctic sea birds today. We also saw more people around the ship, meaning fewer were laid out in their beds with seasickness.

We are all waiting in anticipation for tomorrow morning, when we should already be anchored in Marguerite Bay and will see our first ice and, more importantly, land! I can’t wait to feel solid ground under my feet, although I do now feel like I have my sea legs under me. I rarely need to hold on for dear life walking around the ship anymore – only if we pass over a large swell. The captain issued a challenge: a bottle of champagne to the first person who finds an iceberg larger than the ship. I’ve been looking out all day and have not yet seen any floating ice. I may go up again this evening and continue looking – sneaking in some viewing while everyone else is asleep! The sun will only be below the horizon for an hour tonight, but unfortunately, we’re so socked in that we won’t be able to see it. Tomorrow the sun won’t set at all, and I hope that the skies clear and we get some interesting light.

Day 6: December 14, 2008, Marguerite Bay

I woke up this morning and immediately and excitedly pulled up my curtain, ready to see terra firma. No such luck. We were still sailing south. But, within a few minutes, I saw my first iceberg pass by, my adrenaline started pumping, and I don’t think it stopped all day.

We attempted a landing on the north-northwest side of Pourquoi Pas? Island in Marguerite Bay (just south of the Antarctic Circle). They found us a penguin colony, but the landing itself was really rocky and icy and we weren’t able to actually go ashore. Instead, they took us out in the Zodiac boats for little tours, during which we got to observe our first Adelie penguins waddling along, arms outstretched to their sides for balance, or tobogganing along the ice on their bellies. We found a juvenile Weddell seal taking a nap on a small iceberg at the foot of a massive glacier flowing down the island. Our guide took us close in to see the seal, and I mostly sat in awe looking up at the glacier.

After lunch, the captain went looking for fast ice – meaning thick, constant sea ice that’s strong enough to stand on. They told us that they had found what looked to be a good patch of ice, and next thing we know, the bow of the ship breaks right into the ice and comes to a stop. Just amazing. A few scouts walked out onto the ice to test its thickness and strength and decided that it was sturdy enough for a hundred very anxious and curious travelers to roam about. They kept us within a certain area, of course, to be safe, but I was still able to get up close to crabeater seals and more Adelie penguins. In fact, the penguins were so curious that if you approached one carefully and sat down or laid down, they would come within a few feet. For me, interacting at such close range with another species in this way has been the highlight of the trip so far.

All sorts of adjectives were thrown about today: awesome, awe-inspiring, amazing, exciting, breathtaking, overwhelming, emotional, surreal, other-worldly, indescribable. The one that resonates the most with several of us is mind-blowing. Indeed, the landscape is so impossible to describe, so huge, and so untouched (at least in terms of direct disturbance by humans), that it’s difficult to wrap my mind around what I’m seeing.

To bring things full circle for me in terms of my career path, there are two researchers on board participating in a biological survey of the Antarctic Peninsula with the goal of conservation. I chatted with them after their talk and they don’t know of anyone doing any plant-centered research, but agreed that at least a basic survey should be done. So my new dream is to write a grant to do some basic research on the plants (only two vascular plants but some mosses and lichens) down here. Such fieldwork could only take place in the Antarctic summer, would be a perfect part-time gig, and would allow me to come back to this fantastic, fantabulous, mind-blowing place.

Ushuaia, the Explorer, and THE DRAKE

Day 3: December 11, 2008, Santiago-Ushuaia

It was a long day. Our 4:45 am wake-up call happened at 4:00 am instead. Our bus departed the hotel for the airport at 5:30 am. As much as I was really impressed with the city of Santiago, I was feeling anxious to get to Ushuaia, away from civilization, and onto the ship. I could barely keep my eyes open on the flight. The five hours of sleep the previous night (and virtually none the night before that), together with the time change, still left me very tired.

Flying into Ushuaia was beautiful. The dramatic rise of the mountains reminded me very much of the eastern Sierra, but with much different vegetation and not quite so arid. The “international” airport looked more like a rustic ski lodge. As we waited to pass through Argentinian immigration, we stood near the group of travelers who had just come off our ship and were headed back to Santiago. I searched their faces for any indication of what was to come. They all seemed happy and in good spirits. I took that as a good sign.

I got to feed my love for trees for a short while in the afternoon. There are three species of beech (Northofagus for my fellow plant geeks) between sea level and 600 m along the coastline near Ushuaia. Two are deciduous and one is evergreen. They form these really beautiful forests that almost seem like dwarf forests as the canopy trees aren’t that tall. At the end of this tour through the forest, which terminated at the very end of the Pan-American highway, we boarded a catamaran that took us back to Ushuaia via some gorgeous scenery and our first encounter with wildlife.

The ship. I was giddy as we boarded the ship. After finding our room, we couldn’t contain our curiosity and went on an exploration of the various public spaces on the ship: the restaurant & bistro, the lounge (and more importantly, the bar!), the chart room (with coffee and tea available all day long – quickly became my favorite room), the spa and exercise room, and the observation lounge and library, on the very top deck of the ship. As this is a newly refurbished vessel, everything is modern, and the attention to detail is striking. After some orientation-type activities and a very nice dinner (my first real meal in several days, it seemed), I was happy to turn in early for a full night of sleep.

Day 4: December 12, 2008 – The Drake Passage

My full night of sleep was interrupted after two hours. I woke to ever-increasing rocking and rolling motions. At first the ship rocked mostly side to side, but then it started to move forward and aft as well, so that it was difficult to anticipate which way the ship would move next. At times the motion threatened to pull me right out of bed. Although I wasn’t able to sleep, I was surprised that I didn’t feel sick. Instead, it was sort of like a gentle roller coaster ride. After being up for several hours, I did finally fall back asleep, lulled by the now-familiar feeling of motion.

I’m sitting in the lounge this morning watching the open ocean. Some of the swells are large – I’m guessing 20 feet high – and there are albatrosses and petrels escorting us on our journey. I went to the chart room earlier, which is near the bow of the ship, to watch the waves, and realized that it’s much better to be on the stern end. It also feels a lot better to be horizontal than sitting or standing. Dad’s already been sick once this morning and is back in bed. The public areas of the ship are empty – few people were at breakfast, and even fewer were eating. Only a handful are sitting in the lounge with me. My guess is that most are riding this out in bed. The wind is supposed to abate throughout the day. One of the staff I talked to this morning said this is the second roughest crossing he’s done out of nine.

Later that day…

We learned a little while ago from our captain that we’re making good progress across the Drake (although on a personal level, it feels like I’m regressing!), and that given the weather conditions in Antarctica, we are going to continue sailing south beyond the Antarctic Circle to Marguerite Bay, on the west side of the Antarctic Peninsula. While crossing the Antarctic Circle will fulfill one of my dreams for this journey, the thought of another day at sea like this makes my stomach churn. We are also getting to the point of continual daylight. For example, by tomorrow night there will be only 3.5 hours without the sun in the sky. One of these nights when I feel better, I will stay up late or rise early to experience day during night.

(I think I'm not going to post pictures at this point. Internet is very slow and we only have a certain number of minutes to use. If I have some extra minutes later on in the trip, I'll post some pics...or it'll have to happen all at the end.)