Antarctica
It was a day of fire and ice, black and white, hot and cold that began inside a volcano. Mind you, we weren’t inside the vent of an active volcano, but the flooded caldera of an ancient one. This particular volcano (that last erupted in 1970) wasn’t ready to give up yet, and so provided us with warm and mysterious sulfurous swirling mists into which two gentoo penguins wandered. We walked around the remains of an old whaling and research station, and hiked up to a break in the caldera wall called Neptune’s Window. The view was beautiful, as were the sounds of nearby nesting pintado petrels.
The more intrepid took a swim. Not really a “swim,” but a dip. It was a surprise to many who watched. How come our shipmates are smiling and laughing and not turning blue? Turned out that the thermal vents that created warm mists also provided hot water.
During lunch Ralph suggested that the afternoon landing might be challenging. He wasn’t kidding. The swells on the beach were wild and crazy. We knew something different was upon us, as no fewer than seven orange-clad crew members waited for our arrival. The Zodiac drivers timed the incoming waves and suddenly we whooshed ashore. Got a little wetter than usual, but we soaked up every minute. Stunning icebergs dotted the black sand shore like pearls on a string. Captivated, we watched waves of chinstrap penguins move in and out of the surf with great panache.
It was a day of land born of fire, castles made of ice, beaches of black sand, waters of thermal heat. Upon arriving back to the Endeavour, we found no time for a nap or cup of cocoa. A group of three acrobatic humpback whales brought us out on deck yet again. After dinner, clear skies appeared ahead, south across the Bransfield Strait, tempting us to stay awake with the promise of sunshine and icebergs.
It was a day of fire and ice, black and white, hot and cold that began inside a volcano. Mind you, we weren’t inside the vent of an active volcano, but the flooded caldera of an ancient one. This particular volcano (that last erupted in 1970) wasn’t ready to give up yet, and so provided us with warm and mysterious sulfurous swirling mists into which two gentoo penguins wandered. We walked around the remains of an old whaling and research station, and hiked up to a break in the caldera wall called Neptune’s Window. The view was beautiful, as were the sounds of nearby nesting pintado petrels.
The more intrepid took a swim. Not really a “swim,” but a dip. It was a surprise to many who watched. How come our shipmates are smiling and laughing and not turning blue? Turned out that the thermal vents that created warm mists also provided hot water.
During lunch Ralph suggested that the afternoon landing might be challenging. He wasn’t kidding. The swells on the beach were wild and crazy. We knew something different was upon us, as no fewer than seven orange-clad crew members waited for our arrival. The Zodiac drivers timed the incoming waves and suddenly we whooshed ashore. Got a little wetter than usual, but we soaked up every minute. Stunning icebergs dotted the black sand shore like pearls on a string. Captivated, we watched waves of chinstrap penguins move in and out of the surf with great panache.
It was a day of land born of fire, castles made of ice, beaches of black sand, waters of thermal heat. Upon arriving back to the Endeavour, we found no time for a nap or cup of cocoa. A group of three acrobatic humpback whales brought us out on deck yet again. After dinner, clear skies appeared ahead, south across the Bransfield Strait, tempting us to stay awake with the promise of sunshine and icebergs.
