The Antarctic: Day 7

Day 7 -- Saturday, Jan 22

   Morning starts early.  Wake up call at 7 AM, breakfast with four British gals from the Port Lockroy Heritage Site nearby.  I sit next to “Hen” (Helen for short, from Bristol, England).  She encourages me to apply for a job down here.  “Seven months down here, and it never gets dull.  And we have a shortage of men,” she intones.   They feast on ships coming in during the summer season.  Most of them are private yachts.   Proceeds from the gift shop there (on Goudier Island) pay for the support of the base, which is much like Lockerby Base yesterday.  Museum has an exciting historical exhibit, covering British activity at the station up to 1962, when the station was abandoned and later rebuilt as a Crown Heritage site.  The base served as a secret British outpost during WW II, when rumor has it the Brits here had something to do with the Enigma Project (breaking the German military and diplomatic code).  Once ashore, I buy an Antarctic map to detail our travels, and a baseball cap which should be the envy of my soccer team back home.  I recall the fellow who tried to provide me a video camera prior to the trip in Seattle, who spoke of carrying a soccer ball down below the Antarctic Circle and letting the penguins play with it.  I dream of some of the talent I have seen, with the various balancing and spin moves, and their unusual talents.  Seems like a developmental league has been secretly established here.  Rumor has it one of the Gentoo offspring has developed a left-footed “Bend It Like Beckham” shot, and is due to be signed by Manchester United within a fortnight.

   We also travel briefly to Jougla Point on nearby Wiencke Island.  The trip over requires “the full kit,” as they say.  It is around zero centigrade, and winds are at 30 knots (about 36 mph).  We have no idea what the wind chill factor is.  Almost everybody is armed with thermal underwear, fleece, inner and outer jackets, double gloves, triple socks, balaclava or scarf, woolen hat, plus hoodie.  And Wellies, of course.  Many keep their life vest on even when on land, to add extra insulation.  The chop in the channel is impressive, and the Zodiacs strain against the waves.  Once ashore we are treated to an active colony of Gentoo penguins.  They have built many fine small stone nests, which differ greatly from the other islands we have seen.  Many times, the penguins will steal rocks from others’ nests, which are promptly stolen back when backs are turned, so that the whole exercise turns into a futile zero sum game.  At shore’s edge, there are at least two very impressive whale skeletons.  The parts are mix and match, we are told.  But the head of one is specified as a blue whale head.  Overhead, a Brown Antarctic Skua fights furiously to hold position, in the wind.  In so doing, it stays motionless immediately over several Gentoo nests.  A moment later, it gives up the strained effort, and peels sideway like a kite run amok into the wind.  It is fifty yards away within two seconds.

   But the object of its quest is captured by Marco in a startling film sequence illustrating The Circle of Life.  Two Skuas land close to a Gentoo nest with female penguin hovering protectively over a single chick.  One positions itself fore, and the other aft.  The bird to the rear of the adult penguin, marches up and irritates the Gentoo.  Then it retreats.  Then the predators switch roles as primary aggressor.  The two are in effect tag-team wrestling.  With deadly intent.  They alternately distract and tire the nesting Penguin.  Over three to four minutes, the process is repeated endlessly.  The mother penguin doesn’t know who to watch.  Finally, the Skua to the rear grabs the mother Gentoo’s tail with its beak, and pulls.  As the penguin turns to defend itself and chase the Skua away, the one in front boldly dives in and grabs the chick.  The pair of culprits fly perhaps forty feet away, and proceed to tear the chick apart.  They share the food evenly.  The mother Gentoo is incapable of following.  She gets no assistance from nearby penguins.  There is no collective defense.  She now has no chicks to feed or protect.  And many of those we watch, are born too late in the season and too small to survive the coming winter anyway.  If a penguin pair successfully replicates themselves over their expected lifespan of five years, they have done well.

   Just when I thought I was all played out on shore trips, we take a 3 PM trip to Neko Harbour.  This is to be our last steps on the continent of Antarctica.  Oh Joy … we are to see more Gentoo penguins.  Who could have guessed?  However, we have a beautiful hike through a snowfield, up 150 meters to the glacier and bay overlook.  There we have a view of regular calving of the glacier, sending out massive waves that keep us by rule at least 15 meters away from the shoreline.  Furthermore, at the “summit” of our brief climb, there is one of the best imaginable snowslide opportunities.  It is highlighted by a long, two-tiered slope, with an edge where you become airborne and have no possibility of staying in your channel or trough.  Due to the length and slope you finish a long run, but whether it is on your back or side or ass-over-teakettle is yet to be determined.  I am first down.  Our Expedition guide, Josef, lets me pick my spot as the slope is yet virgin territory, with a long and safe runout at the bottom.  I pick the steepest part just below the summit, place my pack to my chest, hold my feet up, and glissade over the crest.  Ecstasy!  He grows wary of the speed, and insists on using new, soft snow channels each time.  I go a second and third time, in easier but previously utilized channels.  The speed and length of the run increases each time.  The fourth time, I am back to the steepest channel.  While tumbling, I hit something solid.  It is a tray from a cafeteria, left behind by a previous daredevil.  It flies past my head like Odd-Job’s metallic hat in “Goldfinger.”  I pick up the offending dish, and carry it once again to the summit.  This time for a toboggan ride.  My figuring is, I can use my feet for brakes, and my hands if necessary.  But the speed immediately is four to five times what it is sliding on our GoreTex.  It is terrifying.  I gain air going over the slope differential, slam down hard, jet along suddenly as if I have hit Teflon, tumble repeatedly, and finish with a record run sliding backward on my butt.  My gloves are torn.  There is a large hole ripped in my snow pants.  But the tray is still in hand.  We quickly decide that a “Antarctic Bobsled Team” has now been formed, and shuffle down the hill giddy as school kids.

   The Zodiac trip back to the Polar Star is highlighted by up close sighting of a menacing Leopard Seal, who definitely got radar lock-on eye contact with us and buzzed the boat repeatedly.  We get some of the best up-close photos of the entire trip during this final passage.  Also sighted: a rare Weddell Seal, situated right near our lifejackets on the beach.  We are within ten feet of it.  Again, extreme close-ups are obtained by all, and a lingering sense of appreciation creeps in that it won’t get any better than this.  In the final assessment though, we are cold, all spent, anxious for a warm meal, and a hot shower.  Memories will have to serve us from this point on.

   We are not yet in the Drake Passage, but are in open waterway once again. The swells increase, and drinking  bravado dissipates by 11:30 PM.  The wave height builds.  We are told to expect ten meter waves in the upcoming days.