Antarctica - Salter's travels

Deception Island

Our last day in Antarctica. We had landed on some islands, landed on mainland Antarctica, landed on sea ice and cruised round icebergs in a RHIB. Some had camped out in Antarctica. All the boxes were ticked. For many this is the long and short of Antarctica. They have the t-shirt and in future travel conversations they will say that they have done Antarctica. Of course, they haven’t. Not even close. Antarctica is not a small island, not even a country, it is an immense continent. The world’s fifth largest continent. As big as the USA, bigger than Europe and twice as big as Australia. It is immense and complex with many different terrain types, weather systems and environments. Admittedly, most of the environments are cold by human standards but that does not detract from the diversity. For much of the year travel is impossible. The only way to get to know Antarctica is to go there and stay there. Possibly for years. So, while there are some people that can undoubtably say that they know Antarctica, a few that can honestly say that they have done it, they are very few and far between.

Many years ago, I experienced a little of Antarctica. It affected me profoundly and left me with a persistent urge to see more. I enjoyed my time with the British Antarctic Survey (BAS). I worked on some interesting projects and really liked the international spirit of cooperation in science. Despite this, I never had the right attitude or willingness to conform needed to be a long-term employee. This came to a head when I asked for three months unpaid leave. My friend Rik and I had been planning a climbing trip to Nepal for over a year. When I approached my boss about this, he said no. He had been looking for an excuse to get rid of me. Somehow, I always thought I would go back to Antarctica but not as a tourist. That route never appealed to me. The years rolled on, I built a company, sold it, retired and it dawned on me that being a tourist was my only route back. Our trip to Antarctica with Hurtigruten was similar to most tourist trips. A day or more sailing across Drake’s passage, a few days pottering around the peninsula and then back to Ushuaia. It was fun and scratched the itch. But only a little. I saw some parts of Antarctica that were new to me and it made me think about just how much more there was. Enough ruminating. This was our last day and we a job to do.

Deception Island is an active volcano in the South Shetland Islands. Its unique landscape comprises barren volcanic slopes, steaming beaches and ash-layered glaciers. It has a distinctive horse-shoe shape with a large flooded caldera. This opens to the sea through a narrow channel called Neptunes Bellows, forming a natural sheltered harbour. It is one of the only places in the world where vessels can sail directly into the centre of a restless volcano. We arrived at the Bellows mid-morning. The weather had not improved at all and remained stubbornly overcast. The Bellows is an imposing entrance named after the way the wind can funnel between the rocks. We slipped through without problems and anchored in the bay.

The remains of several bases are spread along the shore. Whalers put up the first buildings later followed several scientific bases. BAS had quite a substantial base there for a while which included an airstrip and large hanger. In the years before 1970 there was substantial volcanic activity which led to the island only being used during the summer months. The Argentinians and Spanish still retain a presence although the main use for the island these days is tourism.

We were landed on the black beach and allowed to walk along the shore. In places the sand steams with geothermal activity. There were a few gentoo penguins and some very sleepy fur seals. At the end of the beach was a track across a snow field to shallow saddle. Queues of people were plodding up here and we joined the lines. At one point I stepped up higher to an easier looking trail and promptly got told off by one of the many expedition crew guarding the route. This was one of those times I had to try really hard to not say what going though my head. One reason to not cause a fuss what that, in keeping with the islands name, we had our own bit of deception to do in memory of my mother. She visited this area in 2018 with Diane. It is a long story but essentially mum wanted to come and see where I used to work and understand a little of why I talked about it so much. At the time, she did not like Diane and clearly felt that Diane and I should not be together. Practicalities dominated however and Diane was the only available travel companion. Fortunately, they came back the best of friends and burbling about penguins. They remained firm friends until Polly passed away last year. The ridge overlooking the ocean in one direction and the beach in the other seemed an appropriate place to take a moment to remember her. A vista of mountains, glaciers, icebergs, seals and penguins. Helen, you would have approved.

Back to the beach. Back to the RHIB. Back to the ship and two days later, back to Ushuaia. It was a jolt. After 94 days on the Amundsen, we were suddenly standing in a queue at the airport with our suitcases. It had been a good trip. Some parts were fantastic. Other parts less so but overall, terrific. What next?

Booth Island

The Lemaire Channel was blocked by icebergs, so we needed to back-track a short distance before turning into French Cove at Booth Island. Next morning I found it had been snowing through the night. The decks were closed for safety reasons. Snow and ice can be slippery. I recklessly sneaked out to get a couple of photos. It was quite nice to see the deck looking like we were actually in the southern oceans. The weather remained stubbornly dull and overcast. The scenery, however, was spectacular. Mountains, glaciers, sea ice, icebergs – I never get tired of this stuff. There was great excitement amongst the expedition team about the possibility of an ice landing. That is, a landing on the sea ice.

The RHIBs were launched and disappeared around a shallow headland. We were near the bottom of the list to go ashore. This meant waiting nearly two hours before we finally got off. Amongst the many strict regulations concerning tourist behaviour in the area is a limit to how many people can go ashore at one time. In this case it was not totally clear what ‘ashore’ meant. We arrived at the landing point and it was indeed onto sea ice. But this was sea ice literally right next to the edge of the land. I mean, you could easily have stepped from the ice onto the snow covered land. We were not allowed to do that. We were hemmed in by a cordon of cones marking and area about the size of a football pitch. This was the limit of our exploration. I have been on sea ice many times and can honestly say this was the most boring. It was nice to get off the ship, get a breath of fresh air and see some more penguins. But that was about it. Nonetheless, the expedition team were doing their best to talk up the first sea ice landing of the year. To some people I guess it was a novelty and something special. For me, it once again underlined the massive difference between living and working in Antarctica and the fleeting touch that tourists are allowed.

We explored the football pitch for an hour. Well, we wandered around, chatted and took a few pictures. That sort of exploring. Then it was back to the ship for coffee and cakes in the Explorer Lounge. Life on the rugged edge of exploration.

Kodak Gap

Back in the day, when men were real men and cameras needed film, the Lemaire Channel was known as Kodak Gap. It has been famous amongst tourists since tourists first discovered its picturesque allure and pointed their Kodak Box Brownies at it. First traversed in 1898 by the Belgiums it was named after Charles Lemaire, a great explorer of the Congo. The Congo is in Africa. Equatorial Africa where it is always hot. The coldest place Charles ever explored was probably Brussels where they have the occasional frosty morning. In the early 20^th century, Charles was accused of abuse towards the native soldiers, and found guilty of mistreatment of the civilian population. He was demoted and retired in disgrace. Sailing up his channel is maybe not such an honour.

A far more worthy geographic naming came to my attention just a few weeks ago. Mike Rose joined the British Antarctic Survey about the same time that I did in the late 80s. We worked together for a few years and wintered at Halley Base. Unlike me, he stayed with BAS and recently, coincident with his retirement, had a mountain named after him. Mount Rose is in the South Shackleton range. Horribly inaccessible but a nice looking mountain and genuine honour. Congratulations Mike.

The weather perked up as we entered the Lemaire Channel. This narrow strait is almost compulsory for Antarctic tourist ships. Not only is it extraordinarily picturesque but also nicely sheltered from the generally agitated southern oceans. The strait is 11 km long, 600 m at the narrowest point and surrounded by steep rocky cliffs and precipitously hanging glaciers. The main navigation issue is that it can become blocked by icebergs. Especially early in the season. And this is exactly what happened. This did not detract from us spending several hours exploring the channel. Nearly everyone was up on deck. Some armed with cameras and binoculars. Other just gawping at the surrounding scenery. It was quite remarkable. In at least a few places, I think, if some of the hanging ice blocks or cornices had come loose then they might have hit the superstructure. Everywhere it was steep, snowy, icy, rocky and spectacular.

Several sea birds were around including the ubiquitous Cape Petrels and Kelp Gulls. A big, fat lazy Fur Seal was spotted draped over a bergy bit. Near the narrowest part of the channel, we came across two Orcas. I always find the Killer Whales amazing to watch. Such power and grace. They seemed completely unimpressed by our presence and made their way steadily along the channel. A couple of cormorants flew past. In the water a handful of Gentoo penguins frolicked. There were a few small penguin colonies. The sides of the channel are all a bit steep, so the colonies tended to consist of a landing place and line of penguins to a flatter area.

Paradise Bay

Brown Station is an Argentine base on the peninsular in a bay known as Paradise Harbour. It is a very pretty place with surrounding peaks and glaciers into the water. The base was established in 1951. It was a permanent base until 1984 when the doctor burned it down. He had been ordered to stay another winter and was not keen on the idea. The USS Hero rescued the base staff and took them to the US Palmer Station. Since then, the base has been used in the summer. This location is very popular with visiting tourist ships as it is one of the very few places they can command a landing on mainland Antarctic.

The weather was a bit dull and snowing when we arrived. Our group got to cruise in a RHIB while the first groups went ashore. Many, many rules apply to visitors in Antarctica. One of them is that only 100 people can be ashore at any one time. So, the first one hundred people desperate to say they had genuinely stood on Antarctica got to it, while we cruised around some icebergs. A snowy sheathbill landed on the front of the boat. It did not seem nervous at all and spent the rest of the trip trying to eat various parts of the RHIB. A few giant petrels were sat on the sea ice along with some cape petrels that got quite agitated when we got close to them.

Back onboard the Amundsen we did not have much time before we were off for the shore landing. Here there were many penguins. I don’t know how much of the summer Brown base is used for but just now, early in the summer, the penguins appear to have taken it over. These w gentoo penguins. Hundreds of them. They are terrific to watch. I keep saying this because it is hard to overstate just how much fun it is watch penguins. Their antics always seem a bit comic. On land they are ungainly little things that waddle around and fall over a lot. There is also sometime about their appearance that lends itself to anthropomorphism. If you see them in the ocean however, it is a very different story. They are like little missiles. Incredibly fast and manoeuvrable. Eventually we had to go back. Not because we had got bored but because we were told we needed to go back. The expedition team had laid out a 300 m trail that we had to stay on, and I don ‘t think I could have walked around it much slower.

That night, a few people wanted to not only get the ‘stepped foot on Antarctica’ t-shirt but also the one about sleeping there. So, they went ashore, with tents, and spent the night there. Did mention rules and tourists? One of them is that you should leave nothing. Really, nothing. So, the participants were all urged to use the toilet before they left the ship and given a pee-bottle each. They were also not allowed to eat. Dinner needed to be completed early, on the ship. And breakfast would also be taken on the ship. With the rules fully understood, the small group went ashore with tents, sleeping bags and water bottles. At 4am they were woken up and taken back to the ship. Somehow this all reminded me of when I used to find it exciting to sleep in a tent in the garden when I was 12. Although I was never charged €500 per person for the privilege.

Video by kind permission of Jessica Daniels

Half Moon Island

We left Puerto Williams in the morning and headed for Cape Horn. For decades, Cape Horn was a major milestone on the clipper route, by which sailing ships carried trade around the world. The waters around Cape Horn are particularly hazardous, owing to strong winds, large waves, strong currents and icebergs. The need for boats and ships to round Cape Horn was greatly reduced by the opening of the Panama Canal in August 1914. Sailing around Cape Horn is still widely regarded as one of the major challenges in yachting. We were scheduled to do a landing here. This could have been interesting but in the event, it was far too windy. The bridge reported gusts up to 80 knots. I have experienced 60 knots – it is enough to make walking almost impossible, you are continually being knocked down. So trying to make a landing in 80 knots would have been ridiculous. This is what Cape Horn is famous for, extreme wind, so I guess it should not have been a big surprise that the shore trip was cancelled. Instead, we headed back to the Beagle Channel and dropped the Chilean pilot off. Turning south again, we passed Cape Horn much further to starboard than before embarking on a night crossing of Drake’s Passage.

The wind dropped and the seas never got too big. There was a bit of rolling but nothing to write home about. So, the next day, with very little drama, we arrived at Half Moon Island. To me, this is misnamed because it is a crescent shape. In fact, it looks just like an old caldera that has become flooded by the ocean. The expedition geologist assured me that this is indeed the case although Wikipedia states otherwise – Despite its shape, there is no evidence Half Moon Island is or ever was a volcanic crater.

Indisputably, there are penguins here. Mostly Chinstrap penguins. We did spot a few Gentoos in the water. It was lovely to reacquaint myself with these lovely creatures. I doubt they ever intend to be fun to watch but they are. Everything about their antics on land seems faintly ridiculous and amusing.

The weather was lousy. Overcast, snowing, dull and grey. We were given a small route of about 1 km to walk around. I stepped off to one side to let some people past and got told off by a small girl who had apparently been appointed “path monitor”. Although she did not have a badge to prove it. I am in Antarctica and someone is complaining that I am standing in the snow. Further along we had a view over a small bay. The slushy ice at the edge of the bay made the water look milky. I was assured by one of the expedition crew that this was because the sea was freezing. They were completely wrong. I did not argue the point but it did underline to me the difference between my serious experience of the Antarctic and spending a few weeks around the sub-Antarctic islands. The other excitement of the afternoon was a cormorant flying past. Once everyone was back on the ship we set off for the next island and the intriguingly named Paradise Bay.