Port Lockroy (Wiencke Island), Dallmann Bay, northward bound
Our fair ship Endeavour made its anchorage in Port Lockroy last night, and we enjoyed the splendid light cast by the setting sun on the magnificent glaciated mountains surrounding our position (64°49.5’ S, 63°30.0’ W). We gazed at the subtle intermingling of pinks, oranges, and violets on the ice-covered mountains well past 11 p.m. This morning we woke to calm, windless conditions under leaden skies, the temperature a “balmy” 36° F (2° C), all perfect for our upcoming excursions ashore. Even aboard ship, we watched the comings and goings of blue-eyed (Antarctic) shags, passing gentoo penguins, and the occasional fluttering Wilson’s storm petrels that reminded us of the miraculous place we were in.
Ashore at Jugla Point were hundreds of nesting gentoo pairs and near our Zodiac landing site twenty-seven pairs of nesting blue-eyed shags with forty-four chicks (so far). The shag chicks, up to three to a nest, appeared to be thriving well. The adults are an especially beautiful shag with the black-white countershading common to many seabirds, blue eyes that would make Paul Newman envious, and yolk-colored caruncles. An obliging and unconcerned Weddell seal was a fine photographic subject, and whale bones were aplenty, including one reassembled partial whale skeleton. A stone’s skip across the water was tiny Goudier Island, more an islet really, an important historical site. The British, under Admiralty auspices and Operation Tabarin, established Base A there in 1944 as a research station. It ceased operation in 1962 and lay fallow until it was designated an historical site in 1994 and two years later renovated under the leadership of our own Dave Burkitt. The site is now a museum and shop, and many of us bought our jacket patches, stamps, and other items, profits from which benefit the activities of the Antarctic Heritage Trust. The gentoos have proved their adaptability to human presence by nesting right up to the main building. Of interest is that despite ten thousand visitors per year, there has been no measurable negative impact on the breeding success of the birds.
Alas, this was our last Antarctic landing but not our last Antarctic experience. We cruised the Neumayer Channel (between Anvers Island and Wiencke Island) and entered the Gerlache Strait where we had ice-cloaked land to each side and fulmars, storm petrels, and skuas over the waters. We “hung a left” into the Schollaert Channel between Anvers Island and north-lying Brabant Island (where, at Cape d’Ursel, members of Gerlache’s Belgica party in 1898 conducted Antarctica’s first sledge journey). We were entering Dallmann Bay. Just when we thought we couldn’t be more enchanted by the icy scenery, we had humpback whales as never before, multiple sightings of them. The highlight was a frisky year-old calf lobtailing for over twenty minutes, repeatedly slapping its tail flukes, as we red-coats filled the decks, cameras clicking. But in this fairy-tale world where wonderment succeeds wonderment, we had more in store: a magnificent iceberg, born from a glacial tongue, with a gently convex and deeply crevassed top, fringed at the water’s edge in turquoise, with a beautifully arched window within through which we could view the distant mountains. (Oohs, aahs, more clicking cameras!)
The expedition naturalists provided a stimulating recap, and after dinner we heard about “Shackleton of the Antarctic” as the ocean swells reminded us of our approach to the Drake Passage and that we were saying our goodbyes to Antarctica.
Our fair ship Endeavour made its anchorage in Port Lockroy last night, and we enjoyed the splendid light cast by the setting sun on the magnificent glaciated mountains surrounding our position (64°49.5’ S, 63°30.0’ W). We gazed at the subtle intermingling of pinks, oranges, and violets on the ice-covered mountains well past 11 p.m. This morning we woke to calm, windless conditions under leaden skies, the temperature a “balmy” 36° F (2° C), all perfect for our upcoming excursions ashore. Even aboard ship, we watched the comings and goings of blue-eyed (Antarctic) shags, passing gentoo penguins, and the occasional fluttering Wilson’s storm petrels that reminded us of the miraculous place we were in.
Ashore at Jugla Point were hundreds of nesting gentoo pairs and near our Zodiac landing site twenty-seven pairs of nesting blue-eyed shags with forty-four chicks (so far). The shag chicks, up to three to a nest, appeared to be thriving well. The adults are an especially beautiful shag with the black-white countershading common to many seabirds, blue eyes that would make Paul Newman envious, and yolk-colored caruncles. An obliging and unconcerned Weddell seal was a fine photographic subject, and whale bones were aplenty, including one reassembled partial whale skeleton. A stone’s skip across the water was tiny Goudier Island, more an islet really, an important historical site. The British, under Admiralty auspices and Operation Tabarin, established Base A there in 1944 as a research station. It ceased operation in 1962 and lay fallow until it was designated an historical site in 1994 and two years later renovated under the leadership of our own Dave Burkitt. The site is now a museum and shop, and many of us bought our jacket patches, stamps, and other items, profits from which benefit the activities of the Antarctic Heritage Trust. The gentoos have proved their adaptability to human presence by nesting right up to the main building. Of interest is that despite ten thousand visitors per year, there has been no measurable negative impact on the breeding success of the birds.
Alas, this was our last Antarctic landing but not our last Antarctic experience. We cruised the Neumayer Channel (between Anvers Island and Wiencke Island) and entered the Gerlache Strait where we had ice-cloaked land to each side and fulmars, storm petrels, and skuas over the waters. We “hung a left” into the Schollaert Channel between Anvers Island and north-lying Brabant Island (where, at Cape d’Ursel, members of Gerlache’s Belgica party in 1898 conducted Antarctica’s first sledge journey). We were entering Dallmann Bay. Just when we thought we couldn’t be more enchanted by the icy scenery, we had humpback whales as never before, multiple sightings of them. The highlight was a frisky year-old calf lobtailing for over twenty minutes, repeatedly slapping its tail flukes, as we red-coats filled the decks, cameras clicking. But in this fairy-tale world where wonderment succeeds wonderment, we had more in store: a magnificent iceberg, born from a glacial tongue, with a gently convex and deeply crevassed top, fringed at the water’s edge in turquoise, with a beautifully arched window within through which we could view the distant mountains. (Oohs, aahs, more clicking cameras!)
The expedition naturalists provided a stimulating recap, and after dinner we heard about “Shackleton of the Antarctic” as the ocean swells reminded us of our approach to the Drake Passage and that we were saying our goodbyes to Antarctica.
