The Expedition

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Thursday, December 1, 2022 - Boarding

I arrived at the meeting point well before the other travelers and even before the staff. I could see the Ocean Endeavour being serviced at the pier but for safety reasons pedestrians were not allowed to walk there, we were bussed the final few thousand feet to the ship. While waiting for the bus, one of the Australians mentioned that today is Antarctica Day.

The Antarctic Treaty was signed on December 1, 1959 so the day is quietly celebrated every year. Perhaps we'll have a celebration on board, it seems appropriate. The travelers unceremoniously filed up the gangway and we relinquished passports in exchange for card keys to our respective cabins - mine was on deck 8. There's 9 decks on the Ocean Endeavour so I'm up fairly high, which means I'll feel the pitching and rolling more than most when we enter the Drake in the wee morning hours. Additionally, cabin 8007 extends out from the ship like a little wing so the rolling will be more pronounced. 

At the official welcome, the tour director played down the weather in the Drake Passage and focused on how good the weather will be when we reach the Peninsula, which I believe it will be. But I can read a weather map and conversations with crew members confirmed that they are expecting, at least initially, a moderately rough passage. I've got my Dimenhydrinate ready and I'll take some before sleeping to lessen the effect of any sea sickness I might encounter. 

My cabin is fairly large for a single and it has a bed that's double the width of the one I had at Hosteria Sloggett. I've got two banks of windows perpendicular to each other - one has a great view of lifeboat 5 but the other has an unobstructed view. There are latches on all the drawers and cabinets and the steward suggested I put anything of value on the floor tonight adding that if I don't do it, the Drake will. After a group orientation and the mandatory lifeboat drill dinner was served. 

Thursday, December 1, 2022 - Polaris Restaurant 

One of the first things that caught my attention was that the chairs were all anchored to the deck. They had just enough flex in the anchoring system so you could move the chair to get seated but that was about it. Dinner itself had a lot of vegetables, rice, potato, cabbage, broccoli, zucchini medley and one meat - roast lamb. There was an assortment of items for a salad and everything was well prepared. Nothing stood out as exceptional but all of it was good. 

Rather than buy a glass of wine, alcohol is not included in the excursion fee, I took advantage of their special offer and bought three bottles which the staff would label and hold for me. I don't plan on drinking much, especially on sea days, so they should easily last me the trip. 

Thursday, December 1, 2022 - Embarkation 

The crew released the mooring lines, with the help of a black Lab, and around 9:00 pm and we were underway. As Ushuaia fell away, the director got on the PA system and encouraged people to go out on the deck and say good bye to civilization. As the evening progressed, Ushuaia got smaller and smaller and although the sun had set, the sky was still glowing well past 11:30 in the evening. If all goes as planned we'll see Ushuaia again in 11 days. 

Friday, December 2, 2022 - Crossing The Drake Passage

At 3:30 am the sky was brightening but the sun had not yet risen. We started to feel the first pitches and rolls of the ship but it was gentle, almost like being rocked to sleep . . . for most people. We were still within sight of land but we were exiting the Beagle Channel - directly to the north was Sloggett Bay. At 6:00 am we entered the Drake. Land was falling away but still clearly visible. The swells were more pronounced and more white caps appeared even though we were still in waters largely protected by the island group that comprises Cape Horn. Pitching was more pronounced and simple things, like lip balm, started rolling about on the desk. 

At breakfast, the waiter, James, said the Drake Passage has been challenging this season. On each crossing he's had at least one guest topple over at their table despite the chairs being chained down. Although, he said, they go down laughing. By 9:00 am it was getting difficult to walk without touching a wall or handrail. By 10:00 the long-awaited rains began and it was getting difficult to stand - both on deck, which was getting slippery, and inside as well. James said tomorrow will be worse. At 2:00 pm the temperature was a mild 45° F under overcast skies. Our latitude/longitude was 56.53 degrees south, 65.54 degrees west - not even close to halfway across the Drake. 

The ship slowed during meal time to reduce the pitching and make eating a bit easier but we picked up speed right after lunch. And, of course, with the speed increase came greater rocking and rolling. The dining room was noticeably more empty - I think sea sickness is affecting some of the guest's appetites The sea is rough and once in a while a wave will give us a good smack but, all in all though, very tolerable. 

The morning was spent photographing albatross following the ship and attending an informative seminar on penguins. We'll most likely see Gentoos, Adélies, and Chinstraps but Macaronis and Emperors are not out of the question, especially if we are lucky enough to have deep penetration into the Weddell Sea. However, there has been more than the normal amount of snow on and around the Peninsula this year and that might prevent us from going deep into the Weddell but it will have an even greater impact on the penguins. Most of the penguins we'll be seeing need to lay their eggs on barren ground - not on snow. If a penguin needs to lay an egg and it comes to rest on snow or ice its chances of survival are zero. 

Friday, December 2, 2022 - The Mud Room

In the afternoon I went down to my locker in the mud room and inspected my gear - muck boots and outer shell - that is being provided. Everything fit perfectly. I also checked out the zodiac launching area to familiarize myself with those facilities. The afternoon information session was all about seals, especially those we're likely to encounter - Antarctic Fur Seals, Weddell Seals, Crabeater Seals, Leopard Seals, and possibly Elephant Seals. These seminars are all being conducted by Ph.Ds in their respective fields and they pack so much information into the one-hour sessions it's hard for me to wrap my head around it. 

This is quite a humbling experience. Not only the presenters and researchers on board but so many of the passengers, writers, and photographers are accomplished in their fields. I feel like I'm just skimming along the surface in some pretty deep water. During the info session the boat took a hard roll sending people's plates and cups clattering to the floor - no one was dislodged from their chair though. 

As we head deeper into the Convergence Zone, the water get colder, the sea gets rougher, the temperature drops, and the rain feels more like sleet. The wind is strong enough now to whip spray off the tops of the more numerous whitecaps. It's hard to believe that 24 hours ago I was complaining that my cabin was too warm! 

Friday, December 2, 2022 - Rocking & Rolling

The clouds broke and the sun came out for a short time this afternoon. The dark gray waters of the Southern Ocean that I'd gotten used to turned a beautiful blue - but only for a few minutes. It offered us a glimpse of what was to come once we got this phase of the excursion behind us. Dinner was ala carte and their prime rib was delicious. There were fewer people in the dining room tonight, motion sickness is taking its toll. Barf bags were placed on handrails throughout the ship for those who couldn't make it to their cabins in time. During dinner, waves were slamming against the window - the dining room is on deck 6. 

The captain closed access to the outside decks around the same time - being outside had become a safety concern, one well warranted. I had to attend a mandatory meeting for the camping night and returning to my cabin was a challenge. At one point I was slammed against a hand sanitizer station, no harm but it was a sign for me to surrender as you could not even stand for long without being supported by something. 

Back at the cabin, it was no better. I was content to just lie down and enjoy the ride, if I got knocked out of bed it seems I would have bigger problems. I had signed up for internet access the previous day but after connecting one time for about five minutes it was no longer accessible. I cancelled it, thinking that Intrepid should have never offered it - do it right or don't do it at all. 

Tired of fighting just to stay on my feet I just decided to call it a day and crawl into bed, besides, it was 10:30 pm even though it was still bright outside. 

Saturday, December 3, 2022 - Entering Antarctic Waters

The morning started the same as the evening ended - rocking and rolling. The sea seems slightly calmer but navigating stairs and corridors is still a challenge. Snow is flying through the air this morning but the cloud cover isn't as thick as the previous day so I don't think it will last - not that it matters. 

Overnight we passed the Circumpolar Current - the strongest ocean current on the planet - that circles the entire continent in an endless loop. Amongst other things, it's a barrier to some of the wildlife - gone are the wandering albatrosses. The air and water temperature drop as you cross the current and it’s been compared to going from a refrigerator to a freezer. Over the course of just a few miles the water temperature went from 6° C to -1° C. 

I've really come to appreciate the location of my cabin. It is centrally located and the main stairway is about 10 feet from my cabin door. Two flights down and I'm at the dining room. The main meeting area for presentations and orientations is just down the hall from the dining area. One flight up and I'm out on the upper deck. I occasionally have to go to the reception/information desk but it is centrally located and just another two floors down from the dining room. The mud room, also centrally located, is just one floor below that. But even at that, I've been getting a fair amount of exercise and my legs are strengthening up for hiking on the ice. 

The presenters yesterday all mentioned how much snow there is in Antarctica this year though, not only the accumulation over the winter but also now during the tour season. In fact, the campers on the previous trip had to contend with snow during their time on the ice. At 4:00 am I went down to deck 6 to get my morning tea but there was neither hot water nor cups - so much for their 24-hour coffee bar. 

By 6:00 am staff started to set up the coffee bar and I got my tea. Disaster averted. There are other early risers in the coffee lounge, all Aussies, and they had apps and maps downloaded to their phones providing current navigation information even without access to internet. It was another reminder that, regardless how well one plans, there is always more that can be done and always someone who does it differently, does it better. 

7:00 am: Latitude - 60.24 S; Longitude - 64.39 W. I left Oracle 5 days ago but there's still quite a way to go to get to the Antarctic Continent. However, with us passing through the 60th parallel we also crossed a threshold and into waters governed by the Antarctic Treaty for all lands and waters below 60° South are under its jurisdiction. So, legally, we are in Antarctica but not yet to the Antarctic Continent. 

A very busy day today as we prepare for our arrival on the continent that will probably occur sometime tomorrow unless we make a stop at the South Shetland Islands. We had to attend mandatory IAATO orientations so we're informed of the do's and dont's of landing on the Continent. Some things are pretty intuitive; don't get within 5 meters of most marine mammals (15 meters for elephant seals), no food or beverages on shore (except for water), don't entice animals with cute chirping sounds. Others are not so intuitive. 

As I previously mentioned, there has been a lot of snow in Antarctica this year. Most of the guides have said it's more than they've ever seen - and some have been coming to Antarctica for over 20 years. If someone steps into deep snow the can sink in past their knees. There's usually no problem getting out of that but it leaves a "post hole" that if a penguin fell into they cannot get out from. So, the solution is to fill in your post hole. Also, kneeling or sitting on the snow are prohibited as is setting anything on the ground. Why? Avian bird flu. It has been rampant in the northern hemisphere and when it hits Antarctica it will decimate entire colonies and it's bad for business to bring people to Antarctica to see the carcasses of 100,000 penguins. Researchers believe it could hit sometime next year despite aggressive action by tour operators simply because marine birds will probably bring it. Unfortunate, but better for it to be a more natural process rather than humans being responsible for bringing death to the full-time inhabitants of Antarctica. 

Saturday, December 3, 2022 - Entering Antarctic Waters

There was also an orientation on boarding the Zodiacs and doing wet landings. The Zodiacs have flat bottoms so they can get very close to shore but we will still have to jump in and wade the last few feet. There's a hard way to do it and an easy way. They showed us the easy way - sit on the tube, swing your legs towards the back of the zodiac, and slide off. We were strongly encouraged to do an equipment check. Yesterday, I tried on the outer shell, muck boots, and life vest to make sure everything fit, and they did - but that's just step one. Each person needs a strategy of what they're bringing on shore and how they're going to do it. Going through a dress rehearsal really makes things go much more smoothly when we have our first landing. After seeing the process of making a landing I quickly realized I brought too much camera gear and now a lot of that will stay in the cabin. The tripod, superfluous. Even on camping night it's just not going to get that dark, we're too close to the Antarctic Circle and it's too close to the solstice. Long exposures that would require a tripod are just not necessary. 

My camera LED unit for illuminated video shots is unnecessary for the same reason. Battery bank, waste of space. A couple of spare batteries will provide plenty of power even in the colder temperature. So my dry bag will carry only my two camera bodies and two main lenses - the big Sigma 150-600mm and the wide angle 10-20mm - and a few spare batteries. I'm still waffling on whether or not to bring an intermediate lens as the dry bag is pretty heavy as is. When I return to the US I'll have to buy a good camera bag/backpack to securely transport my gear.

All of our outer personal gear - pants, hats, gloves, dry bags, backpacks, etc. had to undergo a bio-security screening. Bags and backpacks were vacuumed and the other gear was inspected for foreign organisms that could pose a danger to Antarctic wildlife. Surprisingly, Velcro was one of the strongest vectors for transporting foreign organisms. 

Saturday, December 3, 2022 - Thar She Blows!

Our first whale sighting, humpbacks off the port bow. Several people got up on deck to view but they were too distant for most cameras and even with my Sigma 600 the photos were less than spectacular - but a whale sighting nonetheless. Shortly after that it started snowing in earnest. It was a calming, Christmas-like snow. Great big snowflakes gently falling into the ocean, no longer being whipped about by driving winds.

Before dinner, we had a history lesson from John Wright, "John the Historian", who spoke eloquently and passionately about Antarctica's epic age of exploration - 1895 to 1922. John has worked in and around Antarctica since 1978. The Age of Exploration began with an International Geographic Society missive for nations to launch scientific expeditions to Antarctica and ended with Shackleton's death in 1922. Many nations sent teams to Antarctica during that era and many firsts were recorded including Amundson's arriving at the South Pole in 1911. 

This was absolutely a pivotal day. Crossing the 60th parallel, traversing the Circumpolar Current, the final orientations, the gear inspections, the whales, the snow, the fact that we were largely through the Drake (still a little rolling but the sea has calmed considerably) combined to energize passengers and crew alike. Even the history lesson seemed more poignant as we entered the waters that these epic adventurers sailed in not so very long ago. The main event is about to start! 

Sunday, December 4, 2022 - First Landing

Today, we set foot on the continent. It is now light outside 24 hours. The sun isn't up that long because we're north of the Antarctic Circle but because of the low trajectory it lights up the sky for quite a while before sunrise and after sunset. Around 3:30 I looked out my window and I was greeted with my first Antarctic sunrise. I threw on some clothes, grabbed a camera and went up top. The decks were icy but the view was pristine. Penguins darted through the calm waters, a few spouts were seen in the distance, and small icebergs dotted the entrance to Andvord Bay. The light reflecting from the snowy mountains changed by the minute. Pristine and serene.

Overnight we had cut across Gerlache Straits and entered Andvord Bay in hopes of getting to Neko Island to visit the old whaling station there. The bay was choked with ice though and we never made it to Neko Island. Grubb Glacier terminates there and because of the excessive and continuing snow it was regularly calving icebergs to choke the harbor. Even if we could get there though it was with a measure of risk because when a very large chunks of glacier calve the geometry of the area is such that they create tsunamis that will grip a zodiac within 30 seconds. It's a classic example of weather and Antarctica itself dictating events. 

Undeterred, we moved through the Errera Channel and on to Danco Island to visit a Gentoo rookery and take our first steps in Antarctica. IAATO rules stipulate that a member ship can have no more than 100 people ashore at any location. Our ship, surprisingly since it is designed for 200, is carrying only 130 people. The way Intrepid gets everyone out twice a day is through a combination of zodiac cruises looking for seals concurrent with landings near penguin rookeries. It works perfectly. 

We were called to the mudroom in groups and we suited up in classic layering style - undergarments, shirt or sweater, puff jacket inner layer, outer shell, heavy socks and muck boots. Along with our life vest that inflates upon contact with water. We went through the boot bath, received a final check, scanned off the ship and headed to the loading stairs. We had previously been briefed on the proper method to board and leave the zodiac on both the ship and the shore and things went smoothly. 

Sunday, December 4, 2022 - Danco Island

We could see multiple rookeries on the snowy slopes and a clear trail to get to them. It wasn't a climb but it was fairly step and narrow - once I moved 6 inches off the packed snow path and my leg sunk thigh deep. I needed help to get out and I felt like a penguin that had stepped into a post hole. And the temperature was right around 32° - which was way too warm for how we were dressed. It was also impossible to peel off layers because we couldn't set anything, like jackets or backpacks, on the snow. Also, if people did find a way to manage that they really couldn't take that long as it would impede traffic on the narrow trail. 

I was sweating profusely but carried on and got some great shots of the ship, the rookeries, and even a few Weddell Seals relaxing on a rock jutting from the water. We returned to the ship for lunch and I had to change all my gear - it was saturated. When my group, the Seals, was called down to suit up and board the zodiacs I wore my waterproof pants, a t-shirt, a light cap, and my outer shell. It struck a good balance between heating up on the ice, and cooling down in the zodiac. The snow was starting to heat and melt, taking on a grainy crust - corn snow we used to call it in Colorado. There were some steep slopes above where we were trekking and I was surprised we weren't warned about the dangers of avalanches. We did not hear or see any though so maybe my concerns were overblown. 

Sunday, December 4, 2022 - Gentoos

The Gentoo rookery we visited was one of the largest on the Peninsula and it was actually a collection of several large clusters of penguins. Mating season was beginning and would intensify as melting snow revealed more and more underlying rock. Penguin eggs, at least for the Gentoos, need to be in a rock or pebble nest - those that land on snow fail. Three things happen during the mating season, well, four, if you count the act itself. Fights erupt and we would occasionally see penguins slapping each other with their flippers. These comical “Flipper Fights” reminded me of young boys squaring off in an elementary school yard. There was also a bowing and calling ritual some of them engaged in. When the Gentoo calls, they raise their beaks straight up and make their noise on both the inhale and the exhale. Sometimes, when one starts, others will chime in. 

Then there is the ritual of building the nest. Male penguins would waddle down the beach, select a prime pebble, and then carry it in the beaks up the hill to the nesting spot - or at least try to. Other penguins, not wanting to go all the way to the beach, would intercept a pebble-carrying penguin and sometimes a skirmish would ensue. I watched one poor penguin successfully fend off a few would-be robbers and just as he was getting to a breeding area he got into a brief battle and his pebble fell into the snow. They both stopped and looked for it but it was gone. After a brief pause the penguin turned back toward the beach and waddled back down to find another perfect pebble. The would-be robber scanned the immediate area for his next victim.

The weather held throughout the day and dinner was delayed so those who wanted to do the Polar Plunge could partake in that ritual. I opted to forego it thinking it was really for the younger travelers but there were a surprising number of more mature travelers who took the plunge – possibly enticed by the shot of vodka you were served after the crew yanked you back on board.

Sunday, December 4, 2022  - The Sad Tale Of The Viking Polaris

During dinner there was a rumor that one of the other ships crossing the Drake encountered a rogue wave that broke out a window killing a passenger. I originally thought that, like many rumors, there might be some element of truth that gets magnified with each re-telling. Sadly, this was not the case. The incident had occurred several days earlier on November 29 when the Viking Polaris was hit by a rogue wave that caved in several cabin windows on deck 6. 

The chain of events that led to the deadly mishap started when a tube on one of the ship's zodiacs blew out, severely injuring a woman's leg.  The ship's doctor tended to the wounds but they were severe enough that the woman needed the resources of a hospital. There were no ships in the immediate area to assist so the Viking Polaris turned about and headed back to Ushuaia. It was when the ship was heading north in the Drake Passage, and just ahead of the Ocean Endeavour, that the wave smashed into the ship, crashing in windows and pushing out cabin walls, resulting in the death of one man and injuries to several other passengers.

The tragic event made national news in the United States and, unbeknownst to me, I had photographed the Viking Polaris in port before we had left. It was not until later, when I was reviewing photos, that I noticed I had captured an image of the damage it sustained in the crossing. It was a stark reminder that the Drake Passage is no joke.  People generally assume they will return from a vacation, but that assumption is challenged in Antarctica.

The remainder of the evening was spent admiring the spectacular views as we made our way north up the Gerlache Strait. We had traveled as far south as we would on this excursion and now it was time to head up the Peninsula to the Antarctic Sound and the Weddell Sea - with plenty of stops along the way. 

Monday, December 5, 2022  - Blue Iceberg

The sun was up by 3:30 casting a golden glow on the mainland. We have been so fortunate with good weather since we arrived with sunny skies and temperatures around freezing. Camping should be relatively comfortable this evening. In my haste to get some shots before the early morning light faded I bolted from my cabin without my key. Reception didn't open until 6:00 so I went to the bridge to see if someone could open my cabin. The deck officer took my request, made a call, and never said a word to me. I could sense his disdain, which I had entirely earned. Stupid tourists. A deckhand came by though and because my cabin was just a few feet behind the bridge I was back inside in just a few seconds. Stupid tourist. 

We had a much more relaxed morning than yesterday. Rather than trudge up a snow-covered slope, we explored Foyn Harbor by zodiac. The high points included finding a Leopard Seal lazily sprawled out on an ice flow - first Leopard Seal sighting of the excursion. We encountered the most unique iceberg I've ever seen. It was black as an opal with bright blue striations running through it and when viewed at particular angles it shimmered a deep, translucent blue - absolutely other-worldly. 

Monday, December 5, 2022 - Wilson

We also visited the wreck of a whale processing ship. In the early 1900's the ship was processing whale oil when it caught fire and the captain, rather than let the ship sink, ran it aground on the shore where its rusted hull remains. All the whalers were later rescued.

 
Finally, we picked up a buoy of some sort that was lost from a ship. The bright yellow ball (we called it Wilson) stood out from the more muted colors of Antarctica and there was much radio chatter as to whether we should remove it or leave it as a piece of Antarctic history - like the rusted whaling ship. It was eventually decided to remove it which, I believe, was the right decision.

The weather couldn't be better. Clear blue skies, bright sunshine, and temperatures around freezing look like they will continue for another day. After everyone was aboard we headed for Portal Point at the mouth of Charlotte Harbor, where we'd have our first landing on the mainland. Once we arrived at Portal Point, the zodiacs were unloaded and we geared up for a landing. The zodiacs had to navigate the ice-choked waters between the shop and the shore and we had to stop more than once to clear chunks of ice jamming the propeller. 

Monday, December 5, 2022 - Ice Camping

We wove a circuitous route through the ice but finally arrived at our landing point. A new problem arose though because a Weddell Seal also thought it was a good landing point as well and he'd beaten us to it. Luckily, we found another nearby - no easy feat due to the amount of snow that has not yet melted. All of the crew say they've never seen so much snow at this time of year and not only the depth but the overhanging cornices as well make landing more of a challenge than usual. For the penguins though, the ramifications are more dire. Our ornithologist on board has a growing concern that it will be a disastrous year for breeding as there is so little exposed rock the Gentoos are laying eggs on the snow. Hopefully, the recent warm weather - 3 consecutive days of sunshine and temperatures slightly above freezing now - will hasten the melt and save the breeding season. 

Our time on the mainland was short due to the ice-choked harbor impeding the zodiacs but that didn't matter because after a quick meal on board the campers were issued their snow mats and sleeping bags, and we were headed back for our night on the ice. Around 50 of us landed and stomped down or shoveled out rectangles of snow just large enough for our bags. As we arranged our gear, the guides dug out a privy, built walls about 3 feet high around it with the excavated snow, half buried a couple of half barrels within and set toilet seats atop them. It quickly became known as the Sausage Factory and it did a brisk business throughout the night.

 
To our surprise, a Leopard Seal patrolled the shore of our spit of land and it kept circling back, looking for a seal - or trying to determine which of us was the most vulnerable. Eventually though he wandered off to do whatever it is Leopard Seals do late in the evening. Everyone settled in by 11:00 pm and the peaceful calm of an extended sunset painted the mountains and hills a rosy gold. Before long, hushed conversations turned to snores, coughs, sneezes, belches, grunts, and farts that serenaded us throughout the night. In between and far in the distance we could sometimes hear, but just barely, the steady, low-frequency whump-whump-whump of the ship's diesel engines.  

Tuesday, December 6, 2022 - Breaking Camp

The new day started early - around 12:01. I knew it was unlikely that I would sleep very much and my expectations came to pass. Throughout the night I drifted in and out of consciousness, checking the time and poking my head out of the sleeping bag during lucid moments to see the color of sky, sea, and snow. It was darkest around 1:30 am but still plenty enough light to read a newspaper. Several campers, self included, expected to see glorious colors at dawn 2 hours later, but that never materialized. Laying there overnight, thoughts drifted to those first visitors to this land. The night on the ice was an insignificant inconvenience compared to what they endured night after night during their months or sometimes years on the ice. Humbling. 

The temperatures dropped below freezing overnight and put a hard crust on the snow and under our mats. So long as you stayed in the same spot the contours beneath the mat molded to your body making a pretty comfortable bed. But if you shifted, say from your back to your side, those gentle counters now became hard lumps that pre-empted comfort. Even with the colder temperature though I never felt cold even when it was time to exit the bag, roll it up, and head back to the ship.

Tuesday, December 6, 2022 - Spert Island

Hot tea, breakfast, and showers became the first order of business as the zodiacs were loaded and the ship raised anchor to sail to our next stop - Spert Island just off Trinity Island at the east entrance to the Gerlache Strait. Spert Island is a collection of jagged rocks jutting out of the sea. The expedition leader appears to have some knowledge of it and he said it is one of the largely unknown gems of the west side of the Peninsula. High clouds are moving in and the wind and waves are kicking up - our run of good weather might be coming to a close. As I looked at the breakers smashing against the rock spires I don't even think there's a place to land so this is a pure zodiac trip. Just as good as my bones and joints are a bit sore after the night on the ice.

The clouds dissipated by the time we reached Spert but the winds, and swells, had increased. It was difficult to load the zodiacs and, at one point the Expedition Leader canceled the event. I was already in the mud room and nearly ready when the word came down but before I could take off my gear the team leader did an about-face and we were green. Apparently, a final effort to turn the ship to block the worst of the swells worked. 

At loading, the zodiacs were still bobbing about a meter and the bottom step of the loading stairs, sometimes two, were awash in seawater. We only loaded nine passengers as an Intrepid staffer was added as the tenth to help facilitate once underway. The basalt rocks rising hundreds of feet vertically from the ocean were monumental, in fact, they reminded me of Arizona's Monument Valley. There were narrow channels we could, and sometimes could not, navigate through and when we did, we were cast in shadow until emerging on the other side. Waves crashed against the bases with such ferocity that several shallow caves formed, some of which we dared to enter. Guarding the towers, waves crashed on rock formations just under the surface. Both the rocks themselves as well as the waves they caused created additional navigation hazards. One boat lost power in the midst of this tempest and we hurried over and lashed on to them while they troubleshoot the problem - keeping them from capsizing in the surf. They quickly repaired the issue and soon we were both underway again to further explore these snow-capped monoliths. 

Tuesday, December 6, 2022 - Return to Ship

I had the foresight to put the Sigma 600 mm camera in my dry bag and it's a good thing I did as waves and freezing froth regularly pelted us. If I had thought even more, I would have brought the camera with the smaller lens as I couldn't even stay on target at higher magnifications because we were being tossed about so much. The 600, dubbed by one British passenger as “The Tirpitz”, was useless on this trip – too bad because it’s such an awesome lens.  

When we got back to the ship, off-loading proved to be even more challenging. One passenger slipped and got his foot trapped between the zodiac and the stairs but, fortunately, the rubber boat started to rise up and it released him. If he had caught it in a downstream it would have pulled him off the stairs and toss him back into the boat, probably breaking his leg in the process. I fared a little better. The zodiac bobbed down after I had planted my first boot on the stairs and was swinging over the second when a wave washed in submerging the second step. I slid and nearly lost my footing, recovered, then scurried up the stairs to check in. During the evening briefing it was noted that three phones were donated to Neptune during today's zodiac excursion. I feel sorry for those people who lost all their photos.

Another thing that came in threes today - Covid cases. The ship's doctor confirmed that three passengers have contracted Covid and have been quarantined. The adventures of this cruise are over for them - hopefully they have cabins with windows. If seven more cases are confirmed, the shop moves to an amber status and some light restrictions, like wearing masks, will be imposed. It seems Covid has now become a fixture in any tour experience. By 6:00 pm we weighed anchor and were on our way to tomorrow's adventures - inching toward the Antarctic Sound, gateway to the Weddell Sea.