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.

Last night at 10:35 pm we crossed the Antarctic convergence – the point at which the cold waters of the Southern Ocean meet the (relatively) warmer waters of the South Atlantic. The Southern is several degrees colder, and the waters don’t mix well. The cold water sinks and slips under the warmer water, and at the surface there is a distinct point where you move from one to the other. This convergence serves as a biological barrier, which many species cannot cross because they have evolved to require one temperature or the other. By the time I came on deck around 8:30 a.m. all that could be seen of the convergence was a fog bank at the horizon behind us.

We are in the Drake Passage now, and have been for some hours. The Southern Ocean currents flow clockwise around Antarctica and as they pass between the Antarctic Peninsula and South America they are constricted. This makes them become faster and more turbulent. The constriction is the Drake Passage, and we are told it can be some of the roughest sailing on earth. It is not rough every day, however, and we seem to be blessed, so far, with smooth sailing. On these occasions they call it the “Drake Lake”.

Eight times around Deck 10 is a mile, by my calculation, and I try to do a mile after each meal to justify how much I have eaten. Unfortunately for my diet plans, the food on the Marco Polo remains the best I have had on a cruise ship. I have contained breakfast, however, to a bowl of muesli with a small glass of milk poured over it. It was this repast that I was walking off this morning. The sky was blue, the ocean likewise, the wind was light and the slow rollers of the sea did not rock the ship seriously. It was 48 degrees, perfect for a walk.

When we left the Falklands quite a few birds left with us. This morning it was down to a flock of 5 Cape Petrels and an Albatross. The petrels, with their striking patterns on their upper wings, proved as impossible to photograph as ever. Deck 10 was still wet from the fog of the convergence (I guess) so I slowed down a bit to avoid slipping. At the bow of the ship the most intense winds greet the walker. Not so bad today so I stood at the bow point of deck 10 and watched the sea for a moment. Nothing but the endless swells, and far ahead a fog bank. The sun was to my left- it came up about 4:30 a.m. today and will set near 11 p.m. It is the solstice, but it will not be the longest day for us on the Marco Polo as we will go hundreds of miles south before reaching our turning point.

A jogger in shorts zoomed by. To the walker, joggers are very transient. Like a flicker in the air, they pass. You see them once or twice and then they \disappear from the deck. I did not encounter any other walkers. Decks 7 to 11 have some space in the rear to gather –ranging from a simple widening on deck 7 to a full-fledged swimming pool, outdoor bar and restaurant seating area on deck 8. Deck 10 overlooks these, and a handful of passengers, decked out in their red expedition parkas were standing at the stern watching the wake with the birds flying back and forth across it. I spoke with the bird expert on our expedition team who had listed a number of species spotted this morning. I saw only 2, but I was on other business.

As I pass the stern on each round of deck 10, I take a coin from my front pocket and put it in my right rear pocket. That way I don’t have to concern myself with remembering how many rounds I have made. If I wonder, I reach into my back pocket, bring them out and count. When I reach the stern with 7 coins, I have competed my 8th round and can go to the main deck to do other things. One person told me that 7 rounds were a mile. If true then I have many rounds in my exercise bank. I’m afraid I’ve cashed them in by skipping a few days after-lunch walking.