The Lemaire Channel and Furthest South

This day belonged, above all, to the Lemaire Channel. Always one of the most breathtaking spots in Antarctica, the Lemaire Channel tonight was the scene of one of the highpoints of our voyage as sublime weather, a lovely sunset, and the appearance of large numbers of humpback and killer whales all came together in a spectacular tableau.

Our day began early – at 6am – in the Lemaire, a narrow, seven-mile strait flanked on both sides by sheer black walls of granite and diorite, capped by domes of glacial ice. The early morning scene was not as dramatic as the evening’s and few were awake for our first passage through the Lemaire, which was first discovered during the 1873-1874 voyage by German whaler Eduard Dallman and was later named by Belgian Antarctic explorer Adrien de Gerlache for Charles LeMaire, the Belgian explorer of the Congo.

The group spent the morning at Petermann Island near the southern entrance to the LeMaire. A site of penguin research by the non-profit group Oceanites, at Petermann Island, like many penguin rookeries in the area, is experiencing a sharp decline in ice-loving Adelie penguins as the region warms and a rise in the Adelies’ more adaptable cousins, the gentoos. Some of the group visited colonies of penguins and blue-eyed shags, while others walked to a point on the south side of the island and took in one of the great views on the Antarctic Peninsula. Removing their jackets and hats, the group stood in the sun and the 45-degree air and gazed at the black-and-white peaks of the Trans-Antarctic Mountains that stretched south to the horizon.

In the afternoon we visited the Berthelot Islands, small, snow-covered rock outcroppings located at 65 degrees, 20 minutes south latitude. There we rode in Zodiacs among icebergs and ice floes, some of them a resting place for crabeater and Weddell seals. The whiskey and schnapps-spiked hot chocolate delivered to us by Willy and Marek in their Zodiac added a highly civilized touch to this wild scene.

As we reached our furthest south point of 65 degrees, 25 minutes latitude – about 65 miles north of the Antarctic Circle – a group of humpbacks began breaching to the west, their re-entry into the frigid Bellingshausen Sea creating enormous splashes that were visible for miles. And then, just as we thought the day could get no better, we hit the Lemaire, with Capt. Oliver Kruess hovering at its entrance as we finished our dinner. As we entered the channel, with the setting sun lighting up ice and snow on the precipitous rock faces, groups of killer whales and humpbacks appeared around the boat, the exhalation of their breath audible to those on deck. Nearly every passenger came outside to watch the pods of whales cruising around the Lemaire and the waters to the south. The air was uncommonly still, the sea glassy, and for more than 30 minutes we observed this scene in the golden light. Some looked on in silence. Others gasped and cheered as the whales surfaced, the spray of their exhalations illuminated by the sunset. All realized they were experiencing a moment they would never forget.