8 minute read
Going with the floe
PHOTO: S.OTT, HERITAGE EXPEDITIONS
PHOTO: A.BRENIERE, HERITAGE EXPEDITIONS
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There’s a blinding flash behind my eyelids immediately followed by an all-over burning sensation as I hit the -1° C water. In the couple of strokes it takes to reach the ship and our thermally-insulated expedition leader Samuel Blanc, who’s waiting knee-deep in the Ross Sea at Cape Adare, the burning gives way to a blanket coldness racing inwards and I’m grateful to see his industrial-gloved hand ready to help haul me out.
Climbing the stairs in a jacked-up blur of adrenaline and deafening whoops, I’m wrapped in a fluffy towel when I reach the top, and high five my way along the ship’s deck to watch our chefs' impressive leaps (backwards flip and commando) from the top of the gangway. Bristling with energy, I can’t recall feeling this alive, even as the smile frozen on my face starts to ache.
ABOVE: EMPEROR PENGUINS ON THE ICE, ROSS ISLAND. PHOTO: S.BLANC, HERITAGE EXPEDITIONS
LEFT: ANCHORING AT THE ICE EDGE. PHOTO: N.RUSS, HERITAGE EXPEDITIONS
RIGHT: WEDDELL SEAL OUTSIDE SCOTT'S HUT, CAPE EVANS. PHOTO: S.BLANC, HERITAGE EXPEDITIONS
When I can no longer feel my feet, I pad down to the sauna on deck two, where I’m greeted by a welcoming wall of heat and the burly smile of one of the Russian crew members. Beside him a wad of birch branches stick out of a bucket of scalding water. I’ve seen this in movies. Grabbing the branches, I begin flogging myself, and water flies wildly around the sauna. My companion intervenes, taking the branches off me. He dips them back in the water, gently shakes off the excess, and starts to beat me across the chest. The extreme combination of frigid water, dry heat and the gentle lashing makes my skin erupt in gooseflesh. He motions me to turn around and works my back over. Inwardly cursing Hollywood for my Russian sauna etiquette faux pas, I thank him for the beating (it only seems right), and offer to return the favour. Laughing, he holds up a hand to stop me, no doubt recalling my earlier self-flagellation. The only thing I beat is a hasty retreat back to my cabin.
We first meet our trusty expedition vessel Akademik Shokalskiy three weeks earlier in Bluff. She’s a roguishly charming and sturdy Russian vessel built for polar research in 1982, now repurposed for adventure. Her ice-strengthened sea cred and Soviet-era nostalgic cool set the scene for an authentic expedition. She will be more than our home for the next 30 days, sharing with us some of the most inaccessible and remote shores in
BELOW: ZODIAC CRUISING THE ICE WITH ADÉLIE PENGUINS. PHOTO: K.OVSYANIKOVA, HERITAGE EXPEDITIONS
BELOW RIGHT: SCOTT BASE SIGN, ROSS ISLAND. PHOTO: T.BICKFORD, HERITAGE EXPEDITIONS the heart of Antarctica. Aptly named ‘In the Wake of Scott and Shackleton’, our expedition follows these heroic explorers and offers a rare opportunity to explore the Ross Dependency, New Zealand’s claim on Antarctica, as well as Australia and New Zealand’s Subantarctic Islands, which lie like scattered stepping stones on the way. These UNESCO World Heritage Sites – irreplaceable ecosystems and fascinating destinations rich in history – offer their own special adventures.
Samuel’s voice crackles over the PA announcing our first iceberg. I never thought I’d be so happy to be woken at 5am. Excitedly filing into the bridge, we watch its silhouette slowly develop in the mist like an image on a Polaroid. As the floating apartment-block-sized iceberg nears, stark white above the water and luminous blue below, we brave the Antarctic chill up on the ‘monkey deck’, the highest accessible point on ship, to get a better look. It’s gnarled with caves, layers, fissures and cracks, and is only
the first in an endless procession of these silent monoliths, each uniquely cleaved and hued by nature, providing a dramatic, ever-changing backdrop to our journey. The same afternoon we celebrate crossing the Antarctic Circle, surrounded by ice, with mulled wine under a brilliant blue sky. After reciting an oath pledging to protect all things Antarctica we earn the ‘mark of the penguin’ – stamped on our foreheads.
We spend our days weaving among perfectly lit tabular icebergs and smaller ice cathedrals of varying blues, while lone leopard and crabeater seals raise their heads to watch our passage from their private frozen islands. We’re in the realm of almost 24-hour daylight, where mere minutes pass between sunset and sunrise, during which the seascape and skies are stained in preternatural oranges, pinks and reds. We watch pods of Antarctic minke whales, their small dorsal fins knifing through the deep blue water, orca patrolling the ice edge, lounging seals, penguin-strewn ice floes and emperors preparing to march.
Time is irrelevant under the perpetual sun, so we take every opportunity to get out and
ABOVE: INSIDE SHACKLETON'S HUT, CAPE ROYDS. PHOTO: J.J.L'HEUREUX, HERITAGE EXPEDITIONS explore, juggling meals and sleep around our adventures and the weather. It’s all part of Heritage Expeditions’ first rule of exploration: remain ‘rigidly flexible’.
We take our first triumphant steps onto the frozen continent at Cape Adare, at 3am in brilliant sunshine. A gentle breeze carries the pungent scent of our destination: Antarctica’s largest Adélie penguin colony, engulfing Carsten Borchgrevink’s hut, Antarctica’s oldest. Nothing quite prepares you for the full-on sensory assault of hundreds of thousands of penguins and their fluffy brown chicks. It hits you like a wave, a wave you can taste, and is accompanied by the endless squawks of neighbourhood disputes and hungry youngsters chasing parents demanding to be fed. Confined to the beach by the jostling mass, we spot Borchgrevink’s hut rippling, mirage-like, over the crowd of rowdy penguins and enjoy a perfect, minutes-long sunset and rise.
Penguins are frequent companions on our adventures. On the way to Inexpressible Island, a chinstrap penguin jumps into our Zodiac to hitch a brief ride before returning to more familiar surrounds. Adélie penguins leap out of the water on our arrival and ice crunches underfoot as we walk to the site of the snow cave where Robert Falcon Scott’s Northern Party saw out a harrowing winter after being stranded in 1912. Along the way we stop to observe a group of Weddell seals in repose – the vocal seals delight with near 180-degree yawns which end in a brief chattering of impressive teeth as they lazily scratch their mottled undersides. We navigate large rocky outcrops on Harrowfield Hill (named after Heritage Expeditions’ recently retired lecturer Dr David Harrowfield) and, far below, the white
expanses of Priestley and Reeves glaciers inch their way toward the Ross Sea.
In Terra Nova Bay we’re invited to spend the afternoon at the Italian Mario Zucchelli research station. We’re their first ship visitors in two years, and they are as excited to meet us as we them. They greet us on their wharf by a ladder, made just hours earlier, specially for our visit. Our enthusiastic hosts show us around their shipping-container-constructed summer research station, where they conduct oceanic, meteorological and geological studies surrounded by towering, ice-capped ridgelines. Tour complete, we join them in their mess hall where we sack out in front of an open fire and enjoy tales of life on the ice, indulging in the surreal experience of sipping Antarctica’s finest espresso and eating pizza with Italians in Antarctica.
Dreams are realised for many as we step inside the history-strewn, rustic huts of Scott and Shackleton. At Cape Evans, Scott's second hut is so meticulously restored by the Antarctic Heritage Trust that you get the uneasy feeling Wilson, Ponting or Scott himself might swing the door open at any moment and catch you trespassing. Dog skeletons tethered to chains and remarkablypreserved stacks of seal blubber are stark reminders of the hardships these explorers endured. It’s a memorable moment to be sure, but as far as sheer delight goes it’s hard to top the tuxedoed emperor penguin who gatecrashes our on-ice celebrations of the 200th anniversary of the first sighting of Antarctica. Torpedoing out of the water and belly sliding over the ice, he stands to attention at our makeshift bar 77° south of the equator in an unforgettable ‘a penguin walks into a bar’ joke come to life. Our suave celebrity guest freely mingles and poses for photos, and, like all party animals, is the last to leave.
We get a taste of Antarctica's unrestrained power cruising along the 50-metre tall Ross Ice Shelf, trading the cosy comfort of the bridge for the -15˚C katabatic wind chill and a closer look at one of Mother Nature’s more inspired creations. Rousing me from the shelf’s hypnotic trance, the call of “orca!” sees us spend the next hour observing dozens of pods of type C orca (including females with calves) patrolling the shelf’s edge. We watch as they slam their tails on the water on the hunt for toothfish, and dive below our ship. Terrified penguins leap through the white-capped water and
TOP: ORCA SPYHOPPING SEAL AND PENGUINS. PHOTO: S.BLANC, HERITAGE EXPEDITIONS ABOVE: ZODIAC CRUISING TERRA NOVA BAY. PHOTO: S.OTT, HERITAGE EXPEDITIONS
scramble up floes, and we half-expect David Attenborough to chime in at any moment.
Back at Cape Adare, post polar plunge, with the spiny backdrop of the Admiralty Mountains cutting into the skyline, we charge glasses of Shackleton Whisky on the back deck. It’s a bittersweet farewell, akin to saying goodbye to a friend we’ll never see again. Antarctica’s intimate, chilling embrace is still running in my veins, long after the great white continent has faded in our wake. heritage-expeditions.com
