South Scotia Sea
The angels were with us, or at least not against us, as we sailed east-southeast en route to the island at the end of the world, South Georgia. Waves rolled in off our port quarter as albatrosses and other members of the petrel family wheeled about. At mid-morning came the announcement, “killer whales off the bow,” and for the next hour we tracked these wolves of the sea. Some of us gathered on the bridge, others took to the foredeck, cameras ready. Captain Oliver Kruess commented that the whales, swimming in waters so pure and clean, could be seen clearly before they surfaced, rising through the blue looking glass we call “the ocean,” mothers and calves side by side, together with alpha males and their tall dorsal fins. Again and again they cut through what must have been a grand seafood buffet (probably mostly fish and squid) as dozens of birds swept over the area, right above the orca, no doubt to catch scraps left by the feeding frenzy. Photographs later showed one killer whale with a large piece of meat in its mouth, confirming a recent kill. No wonder the birds were so active, and numerous.
Then came story hour. We settled in to listen about Sir Ernest Shackleton, the most successful failure of all polar explorers, the man who never achieved his geographical prize but never lost a man (under his immediate command). This is Shackleton Country after all, the wild world where he felt most at home. “We were now reviling in the indescribable freshness of the Antarctic,” he once wrote, “that seems to permeate one’s being, and which must be responsible for that longing to go again which assails each explorer from the Polar Regions.”
Freshness indeed. Wherever the wind comes from it arrives here with remarkable tartness. We let it enliven us as we lingered on deck to watch and photograph albatrosses, their wings a mere extension of the wind. Or was the wind an extension of their wings? Where does one phenomenon end and the other begin?
Other lectures in our floating university included talks on geology and krill, the foundation food of the great southern ocean. After dinner we gathered in the lounge for a “photo critique,” where the photo team took turns offering constructive comments on more than forty images submitted by guests, all designed to better prepare us to get the best pictures possible once we land at South Georgia. A fitting end to another great day at sea.
