Is this ok, or do I need another pebble?

We are first to go this morning. Breakfast comes at 7:25 a.m., the sun has been up for over 5 hours, but I haven’t. It looks cold outside, no direct sunlight, snow flurries, and we are scheduled to be in the first wave this morning. At 8:15 a.m. we are in the Polo Lounge fastening our parkas and pulling on our knit hats and gloves as we start to file down the route to the zodiacs.

Our route takes us heartbreakingly close to the British Base on an island near our landing on Jougla Point, but those stamps from the British Antarctic Territory for sale there might as well be on the moon. I’m not swimming over. Another cruise ship is disembarking passengers there, and I’m thinking that there but for the grace of God etc.

Yet and still, as Skip James used to say, there Mary Alice and I were, about to step out of the zodiac onto Antarctica again, and we could see penguins everywhere. There is no pier at Jougla point – just a rock formation that juts out enough to allow the zodiacs to load and unload there. Crew are everywhere to help us passengers get safely out of the zodiac, up the rocks and safely onto the snow on shore. There are cones and ropes outlining the areas we are to avoid because they are too close to the penguins. Fifteen feet is the recommended minimum distance, and if the penguin wants to cross the path, we move back and let it. The goal – we do not interfere in any way with the wildlife. Studies, yes believe it or not, studies, show that penguins don’t care if tourists are 15 feet away from them taking pictures. They have no fear of human beings, and we’re doing our best to justify that by not harming them.



The Gentoo penguins are nesting here, and are at the nest building and egg laying stage of the season. We watch a young couple building what our bird expert believes is their first nest. The nests are made from pebbles with a few bits of twig or the like – which are rare here. One penguin of our couple was sitting in the small pile of pebbles they had already accumulated while the other was going about 10 feet away and stealing pebbles from existing nests. He, lets assume, would put his head down at a point not far from the target nest but not near enough to sound alarms, and move around looking for pebbles. Suddenly he would realize that the penguin before him was sitting on a pile of pebbles that would be perfect for his mate’s nest, and he’d grab one. The sitting penguin can’t get up as there is an egg under it, but she, lets assume, can make a stab at the thief with her beak and let him know he’s running a risk. He moves off with his new pebble in his beak and lays it down before his mate at their growing nest. Then he’s off again. We watched him do this repeatedly. Got some good photos.

Most of the more experienced couples have established nests and one of each couple is sitting on the nest egg, lets assume, with an extremely soporific look on its face, relaxed and sated with the things of life – until a thief gets near. I’m told that scientists did a study; yes another one, by painting an entire nest’s pebbles blue. By the end of the season every nest in the colony had at least one blue pebble in it. Which proves either that a great deal of pebble exchanging goes on, or the blue pebbles were that season’s must-have stone.

One other thing will bring the nesting penguin to attention, and that is the arrival of a bird called a skua. Skua will eat eggs or chicks, and are a predator that the penguins recognize. I saw a skua fly to a point very near some nests, and the nesting birds thrust their beaks at it, and then settled down again but with their beaks pointed to the sky to ward off the skua. A second skua arrived. They don’t go after the penguins to run them off the nests; they wait to see if one will become incautious. None did, so the skua and its skua friend left. Photos at 6.



These and similar domestic events kept us busy until the hour was up and we had to once again return to the plush luxury of the cruise ship. It was snowing as our zodiac took us back towards the Marco Polo. Then we heard the sound that every experienced whitewater rafter knows, and dreads. It’s a sound that means big trouble – of course for the rafter big trouble is a delay. For a zodiac in 33 degree Antarctic waters with a load of elderly tourists weighted down with many layers of warm and heavy clothing, and their 12” rubber boots, it means life-threatening disasters looms. That sound is a hiss. Air escaping from an inflatable boat, possibly from the very tube we were sitting on. The driver slowed down to locate the leak. “Keep moving”, I said, “and get us to the ship while you can.” The other passengers approved this strategy. Luckily one of us found that the hiss came from a loose valve, and not a hole in the tubing. We tightened it and made it back safe and sound, brushing snow from our cameras and looking forward to a hot drink.

Gentoo penguins sky pointing - a greeting

We awoke in Paradise Harbor. The sun had been up since 2 a.m. or thenabouts, and it set about midnight. When you wake up in the middle of the night its hard not to get up since there is daylight, but it is also difficult to got to bed when it appears to be mid-afternoon outside.

In Paradise Harbor there is a Chilean base, right in the midst of a huge Gentoo penguin rookery, and that’s where we were to go. The ship anchored out in the bay and let down the zodiacs. They raced around for a while, waiting for the first load of passengers. No more than 100 can be on land at any one time, and we have about 400 so we go in waves. First wave was off early. We were second wave at 9:45 a.m. We meet in the Polo Lounge, a piano bar just on the main deck. You can’t really put on your parka, gloves, and hat while waiting, because it is heated, as soon as you are called you need to quickly finish dressing for outdoors. One of the kids leads us downstairs in groups of 13 – we drop down two decks. There you keep your camera and glasses in your right hand and extend your left arm. A crewmember fits you with a life jacket, then you walk a long hall to the disembarking platform. There the zodiac awaits. You want down a gangplank and when it is your turn two crewmembers grasp your arms as you lower yourself to the side tube of the zodiac. You sit on this tube with a rope to hang onto when the boat moves. At the head is an expedition leader, at the rear a crewmember standing astride the outboard motor control bar. The zodiac fills, and off you go. The sea is full of icebergs. The zodiacs have been pushing them away from the ship all morning, but these in the open sea are too large for that, so we find a course between them, On one a seal is relaxing. In the water Gentoo penguins are swimming in groups, porpoiseing as it is called. They come up for air, frequently leaping entirely out of the water, grab a couple of breaths and dive.

The dock is way high as the sea is tidal and the tide is out. As we approach it I can see penguins swimming underwater by the boat. Funny and awkward as they are on land, in the sea, swimming, they are graceful. We put a box in the front of the zodiac, stand on that and are hoisted up to dock. A Chilean offers us a small brochure about the base, with a map, and a bit of history. There isn’t much to map. A “Museo” and gift shop has walls lined with photographs of the establishment of the base in the 1950s, soon to be abandoned, and only recently refurbished. That’s the Museo, the center of the room consists of a large table with souvenirs – hats, cups, certificates that you’ve been there (shades of the Great Wall), and postcards. These are $2 each, and for another dollar they
will mail one to you. I get one with the base hand stamp on it, and mail it to myself. (It arrived in Alderpoint in April or May - I think they keep all they sell until the last ship goes out before the onset of Antarctic winter, then evacuate with the postcards which are mailed when they reach Chile).

Outside is the main attraction. Zillions of Gentoo penguins. Our bird expert says that there is a Chinstrap and an Adelaide amongst them but I never see them. I watch a couple of Gentoos doing a nest handover. They have eggs at this point but no chicks. The couple skypoint together, and look around. After a bit one bird gets off the nest of pebbles containing the eggs, and the other hops in. But bird 2 does not just sit down on the eggs. First it rearranges the nest, moving around in it, picking up a pebble and placing it somewhere else in the nest structure, until all is satisfactory Bird 1 hangs out for this procedure, not leaving until bird 2, satisfied at last, sits down on the eggs. Photos at 6.

I also found some pebble stealing birds. They walk up to an occupied nest and sort of mess around, head down ready to get a pebble the minute the nesting bird is inattentive. The nesting bird really can’t do much to protect the pebbles without getting off the eggs, and that’s not allowable, so some squawks and beak thrusts are about all that can be done. The pebble thief sees its chance, strikes down light lightning, and comes back up with a pebble in its beak. It carries that pebble to the nest where its mate is sitting on the eggs and deposits it around the outside of the nest structure. Then its off for another pebble. Since the nests are quite close together – each one takes up about a square foot and there are two or three to the square yard – it doesn’t take long to seize another prized pebble and bring it back. Photos at 11.

Time to return to the ship. We have had about 1 hour on the Antarctic continent. Tomorrow if all goes well, another hour, and the day after weather permitting, a landing in the South Shetlands for an hour. Each hour is intense and productive. Productive of photographs at least. At dinner we all agree that the Paradise Harbor landing has been the peak experience of the cruise, so far.

Its like we are preparing for an actual Antarctic landing by stages. At West Point we tendered in, at Deception Island we cruised through, at Cuverville Island we got into our total Antarctic costume and zodiaced around the island for about an hour. Chilly.



Antarctic costume: thermal underwear, wool pants, waterproof pants. Waterproof boots at least 12” high (mine are much higher) and wool socks. Put the wool pants inside the boots to conserve heat, put the waterproof pants outside the boots to shed rain and waves that splash into the zodiac. Wool shirt, sweater, nice red parka, balaclava, thin under gloves and wool mittens. Sunglasses. Put all this on and you know what a penguin feels like when it returns from 2 weeks stuffing itself at sea.

Most of it is recommended but optional. The boots and waterproof pants are mandatory and passengers lacking either are not allowed on the zodiacs. The explanation is that you may get water spray from the waves as the zodiac lands, and you may have to step into the sea to get out of the zodiac. Either gets you wet without the equipment. Now let the weather worsen and you may be stranded on shore for many hours, wet, and very cold. Potentially survival is at stake, or so they say.

I have not used the sweater yet, but I had on everything else for the zodiac ride around Cuverville Island. This is our first stop in Antarctica proper, and it looks really authentic. Icebergs in the water, stark and steep rocky peaks covered with snow, glaciers, the only vegetation visible are some orange lichen, and green mosses. It is rumored that atop the island is a small flower, one of only two species which grow in Antarctica.

It is what is at the base of the island that we have come to see in our warmest clothing, crammed into a zodiac. Penguins, of course. A large Gentoo penguin colony is there, and icebergs in the sea. We see sea birds as well but penguins are turning out to be the theme of our stops below Buenos Aires.

To return to the ship the routine is this. Boots are scrubbed before returning to the zodiac, then once aboard we walk down a corridor plastic laid atop the carpet to a room with chains in it. We sit down, feet up. The boots are sprayed with a disinfectant, and put into plastic bags for us to carry back to our cabin. We go the rest of the way to the cabin in our socks. In the cabin we place the boots in the shower and the cabin steward washes them again. The idea is 1) no bird shit on the carpet, 2) no biological materials get onto the ship, and therefore we don’t carry them to another site, possibly spreading disease or pests.

I set the alarm for 6 a.m. but I wokeup several times between 3 a.m. and 6 and it was daylight. Dressing quietly, I slipped out onto the rear deck. It was cold. 36 degrees with a brisk wind. The first thing I saw off across the ocean was another cruise ship, the second thing I saw was a humpback whale diving, then a flock of chinstrap penguins leaping out of the water. I turned around and there it was: Deception island, covered with snow, volcanic rock breaking through here and there.

My hands were freezing. I went back and got my mitten gloves – they are fingerless gloves with an attached mitten pull over. The idea is to pull the mitten off of my fingertips, snap a photo, and then get my fingers back under the mitten. It worked pretty well. I had on a knit hat, which I got in Peru, very warm, but my face was freezing. Next time, I’m wearing the balaclava, too.

The ship lined up with the break in the caldera wall and we started in, penguins leaping on both sides, Cape petrels flying overhead. There were two yachts inside on the large bay, which left shortly after we arrived. I thought it was because of us, but probably it was because they had seen the sights.

We spent about 1 hour slowing cruising around the caldera. From time to time the p.a. system beeped and someone read first hand descriptions of being on the shore we were passing during the late 1960 eruptions of the volcano. Towards the back there was sea ice – I raced to the front of the ship to get a shot of the bow crashing through it, but we turned instead. Safer, if less dramatic.

The scant remains of human activity in the caldera are vanishing. The Chileans and the Argentines have bases active now and they looked tiny against the caldera walls. It was difficult to get a sense of the scale of things.

I took a million pictures. Almost everyone was on deck it seemed, most of them in the red expedition parkas we were given a few days ago. Everyone seemed to be wandering around in a trance, bumping into each other, walking in front of people trying to take pictures – I think I got a glimpse of what it is like being a penguin.

No problem with the camera but some people said theirs were sluggish, and the batteries gave out.

We had a mandatory briefing for the entire ship’s passenger completment this afternoon. We expect to see icebergs by 2-4 a.m., that is at first light. We will sight the South Shetlands by 5 a.m., and be sailng in the caldera of Deception Island by 8 a.m. Tomorrow afternoon we’ll take a zodiac cruise around Cuverville Island in the Antarctic and Sunday we’ll make our first landing in Antarctica, weather permitting.

More as it develops. Have to pay attention to the Guacho Show now. Back from the show, it was great. Good night.