1472: Ross Sea - In the Wake of Scott and Shackleton 17 Jan 2014
In the Wake of Scott and Shackleton
Voyage #1472
Akademic Shokalsky
17 January – 15 February 2014
Captain
Igor Kiselev
Staff
Nathan Russ Expedition Leader
Helen Ahern Hotel Manager
Catherine Bone Naturalist and zodiac driver
Nigel Brothers Lecturer, Naturalist and zodiac driver
Lloyd Spencer Davis Historian and Naturalist
Scott Davis Photographer
Selva Dhanabalan Doctor
Ray Smith Chef
Nick Bruerton Chef
John Barkla government observer / DOC
Expedition Log written by Lloyd Spencer Davis with assistance from Catherine Bone
Day 1. Friday 17 January 2014
Against all the odds it seemed, here we all were in Invercargill, New Zealand, with our ship – the Akademic Shokalsky – tied up at the nearby port of Bluff.
The Shokalsky had become stuck in ice in Commonwealth Bay, Antarctica, on Christmas Day. An attempt by a Chinese ice breaker to rescue it had only made a bad situation worse, with the Chinese ship also becoming trapped in the pack ice. As the last of 2013 ticked by, the Akademic Shokalsky remained firmly mired in the thick ice and hopes of it reaching New Zealand on schedule for our expedition began to dwindle. An attempt to get to our ship by the Australian ice breaker, Aurora Australis, succeeded only in retrieving the passengers: the little ship sat stubbornly in its icy cocoon.
By the end of the first week of the new year, our prospects of going to Antarctica had looked pretty dismal. Then, miraculously, Antarctica had loosened its grip on our ship: cracks appeared in the ice and the Shokalsky picked its way to freedom, eventually arriving in Bluff on Tuesday 13 January, some eight days behind schedule.
We assembled at the Kelvin Hotel for dinner and a briefing by Nathan Russ, the expedition leader. It was as convivial a gathering of passengers as could be imagined: some old friends were reunited, many more new ones were in the process of being made. We were relaxed, we were excited. We were, without exception it seemed, in good humour.
Day 2. Saturday 18 January 2014
The morning began with checking in our bags, followed by a walk to the Southland Museum to get a foretaste of the Subantarctic islands and to learn about New Zealand’s ‘living dinosaur’, the Tuatara. There was time for some last-minute shopping for those who wanted it and time for a last latte for those who needed it. After lunch back at the hotel, we boarded a bus for the twenty-five minute drive to Bluff and our hastily prepared ship.
To be honest, the ship looked like it had seen better days. It seemed positively miniature compared to the luxury cruise ships that ply New Zealand’s coasts exuding expense with their spotless and chic all-white appearance. The Shokalsky, by contrast, wore its colours with a sort of gulag pride: a mixture of blue, white and rust. Yet, it would prove to be a comfortable ship that we would come to treat more as our home than a ship for the next month. Nathan had also been at pains to stress that the ship had undergone a rigorous inspection upon its arrival in Bluff and that it had come through its ordeal in Commonwealth Bay unscathed – which seemed a much more reassuring testimonial than having a white hull might have been.
We set sail at 4pm, right on schedule (a remarkable achievement given the circumstances and thanks to the sterling work of the crew of the Shokalsky, Heritage Expeditions and Cheesemans’ Ecology Safaris). It was a glorious afternoon, full of sunshine and blue skies: many of us stood on the upper and outer decks as the ship cleared the heads at Bluff shadowed by the pilot’s vessel. As if on cue, an albatross flew close by. Foveaux Strait, a notoriously rough piece of water at the best of times and prone to even rougher fits in the worst of times, looked uncharacteristically calm. After the uncertainties of the preceding couple of weeks and the rain and cold of the preceding few days, the omens seemed especially good for the voyage that lay ahead of us.
The calm would prove short-lived. We travelled down the eastern side of Stewart Island so as to get some shelter from the winds that were building from the west. Time enough for dinner and for Nathan to announce that we would abandon plans to stop at the Snares Islands: the conditions would not permit the intended Zodiac cruise. We would try the Snares again upon the return leg. For now instead, we would batten down the hatches and make our way to the Auckland Islands: preferably in bed, he advised.
Day 3. Sunday 19 January 2014
Sea travel can get much worse than we experienced that night (think A Perfect Storm) – but it was bad enough for most of us. The wind climbed to over 30 knots and the sea conditions were very rough. We were literally tossed from one end of our bunks to the other, often being thrown against the bulkhead with force. In the morning there were the walking wounded and the non-walking wounded. Kurt had smashed his head in several places and required stitches. Jerome had dislocated his shoulder and was left wearing a sling and a grimace that only suffering through extraordinary pain can bring. Richard, our onboard QC, sported a black eye, as if one of his clients had turned on him and that client happened to be called Mike Tyson. Many of the rest of us lay confined to our bunks feeling none too well, a groan being just about all we could offer by way of conversation whether there was anyone there to listen or not. The Shokalsky was like a ghost ship with hardly anyone up as we continued on our way to the Auckland Islands.
For those capable of venturing out, Cape Petrels and various species of albatross had been pretty much our constant companions, while a pod of Hourglass Dolphins delighted for a short while as they surfed upon our bow wave. It was with much relief for pretty much everyone when we entered the calmer waters to the south of Enderby Island and eventually anchored at Port Ross Harbour at 7pm. The low lying islands that surrounded us were covered with the red of flowering Rata trees, a glorious sight, although, the way some of us felt at the time, they could have been covered in nothing but mud and they would still have been a welcome sight.
Photo: H.Ahern
Day 4. Monday 20th January 2014
Blue skies greeted us in the morning and the mood on board was very buoyant. While we had slept, the Shokalsky had weighed anchor and travelled down to Erebus Cove where we would make our first landing at the site of the failed settlement of Harwicke. The Zodiacs ferried us across to a small bay with a rocky beach. From there we trooped up through the Rata forest to the small graveyard, where a white picket fence surrounded a small collection of half a dozen crosses and gravestones. The most poignant was for a child who had died on 22 November 1850, aged just three months. Her father had manufactured the gravestone from a wheel intended to sharpen his implements.
We retraced our footsteps before following another path, this time one that hugged the shoreline to the east. Brilliant green moss carpeted the boughs of the Rata trees and a kaleidoscope of fallen leaves in greens, browns, reds, yellows and golds made up the ground cover between the trunks of the trees. We seemed to be walking through a magical forest that could have been conceived by Disney. Our path ended at the twisted stump of a tree that had been felled one and a half centuries earlier. Known as the Victoria Tree, it was engraved with the words, ‘H.M.C.S. VICTORIA, Norman, In Search of Shipwrecked People, October 13, 1865’. It was essentially graffiti left by the men of the Victoria, under the command of W.H. Norman, when it had gone to the New Zealand Subantarctic islands to search for castaways from shipwrecks and to release such animals as pigs, goats, rabbits, geese, and guinea fowl to hopefully establish breeding populations that could provide sustenance in the event of any future shipwrecks. It is probably true to say that some of us felt a deal of sympathy for Norman and his men – despite not normally sanctioning either graffiti or the introduction of foreign species to such a precious environment. Our passage to the Auckland Islands had taught us that Norman had been right about at least one thing: shipwrecks in the Subantarctic islands were not so much a possibility as they were a certainty.
Back on the beach, many of us took photographs of the curve of the bay capped with the colourful Rata trees as we waited for the Zodiacs to take us back to the ship. It may have been a tough place to eke out a living in the 1850s, but as we stood there in 2014 with the sunlight warming us and the views enchanting us, it felt more like a Sunday picnic. However, as if to underline just how far we were from civilization – even in 2014 – and just how quickly lives could be put at risk, Wynona fell ill. We were pretty much at the outer limit for getting a medical evacuation to New Zealand via helicopter and the decision was taken to evacuate Wynona and her husband, Vernon, while we could.
That afternoon the ship moved around to Ranui Cove and while most of us went ashore, Wynona and Vernon were transported to Enderby Island to meet up with two helicopters that had been despatched from New Zealand. The waters of Ranui Cove were tranquil, save for the presence of a somewhat curious and bellicose sub-adult male Hooker’s Sea Lion. There we were able to see the living quarters and observation post that had been established in the Second World War with the intended purpose of keeping an eye out for German raiders and any other potential enemies that might seek safe harbour in the Auckland Islands. The living quarters were somewhat dilapidated but, even so, they seemed more like an idyllic tramping hut, as far removed as it was possible to be from the trenches and beaches of a war being fought elsewhere. And it pretty much was, as no enemy vessels were ever sighted from the observation hut that sat just below the highest point at Ranui, offering unsurpassed views of the entrance to Port Ross that we had travelled through the night before.
The track to the top of the hill followed a wire that was used for communication between the observation hut and the living quarters. The views from the top of the hill afforded a 360° panorama of the Auckland Islands. If the Subantarctic islands have a centre or heart, then surely we needed no other evidence that we were standing upon it than to look around. We made our way back to the cove, with tomtits flitting through the trees. John Bakla, the Department of Conservation observer on our voyage, pointed out an ancient little plant that was thought to be millions of years old, quite possible considering these volcanic islands were formed about 12 million years ago but rest on older granites and sedimentary rocks, some dating back about 100 million years. At the cove, Tui gathered in the trees, their calls as musical as any in the animal kingdom. Back aboard the Shokalsky, we moved over to anchor near Enderby Island’s Sandy Bay in preparation for the next day’s activities.
Photo: C.Bone
Day 5. Tuesday 21st January 2014
The day that greeted us was perhaps more typical of the Subantarctic islands than the previous one had been: drizzle, mist and howling wind. We landed on a kelp-covered rock platform at the southern end of Sandy Bay. Yellow-eyed Penguins congregated in small groups of one, twos and threes at this end of the beach – with some venturing into the surf and some trekking inland. They appeared unperturbed by the multi-coloured herd of photographers that stood on the banks of the bay, their motor drives going off like a battalion of Gattling guns that had somehow snuck into the Auckland Islands undetected by the lookouts at Ranui Cove. Further up the beach we saw fawn-coloured female Hooker’s Sea Lions and their pups which had formed into groups overseen by big dark brown bull Sea Lions.
We followed a boardwalk over to the other side of the island. It passed over and through low-lying shrubs that covered the hillside with a palette of autumnal colours – reds, golds, browns and greens – like some sort of tapestry. The vibrance of the ground cover was enhanced by the disparity with washed out skies and mist inhibited views. At a certain point we had to step off the boardwalk to go around a Southern Royal Albatross that was sitting on a nest within pecking distance of the wooden walkway. If the penguins were sanguine about our proximity and the sound of a thousand shutter actuations, this albatross seemed positively disinterested in our presence. The contrast between its white feathers and the dark background made for great portraits, encouraging even more clicks of the shutters.
On the western side of Enderby, the wind didn’t just batter us, it blew some of us off the path and even blew one or two of us over. We sat for a time taking in the wild vista as best we could. Waves crashed into the rocky platforms below while wind and rain lashed at us atop the steep cliffs. Following the path a little northwards, we stopped on a flat area that afforded a view of Light-mantled Sooty Albatross hunkered down on their nests on a narrow ledge.
At this point the party split, with some of us returning down the boardwalk to observe the Sea Lions and penguins at Sandy Bay, while the rest of us opted for a longer walk around the circumference of Enderby Island. Initially the path took us through fields of megaherbs looking like something out of Jurassic Park. Once we entered the tussock, the going became considerably harder. But we were rewarded with fine encounters with Sea Lions, penguins and Auckland Island Shags. After a brief stop for lunch, the weather improved and the sun made an appearance for the first time that day. More Yellow-eyed Penguins and Hooker’s Sea Lions provided excellent photographic opportunities, but we also encountered many of the brilliantly coloured Auckland Island Parakeets looking like they would be more at home in Australia than a windswept Subantarctic island. We saw Brown Skuas feeding their young and a Giant Petrel seemingly pretending to nest under a Rata tree. Auckland Island Teal sat beside what appeared to be a small creek, and some of us were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of Auckland Island Snipe as they scurried out of our way. The Pipits on the other hand, seemed attracted to us, seeking us and then darting about. The walk ended on the northern edge of Sandy Bay where we had to negotiate our way through large slumbering male Sea Lions. Many of us spent the next hour or so simply sitting on the dunes watching the soap opera unfold in front of us as Sea Lion mothers, pups and bulls went about their business, which invariably entailed growling at or biting one another.
Once back on board the Shokalsky, we headed down the eastern side of the Auckland Islands and rounded the immense cliffs of Adams Island. Wandering and Light-mantled Sooty Albatross were among the many big-winged birds that tailed us out to sea. Ahead of us lay the open ocean and, further ahead still, Macquarie Island.
Photo: H.Ahern
Day 6. Wednesday 22nd January 2014
Rare and favourable conditions (a following sea) pushed us rapidly towards Macquarie Island. Many stayed out on the decks, cameras at the ready, observing the albatross and petrels that accompanied us for parts of the journey. The first serious session of lectures occurred on this leg, with Nigel giving a beginner’s guide to the identification of all those birds flying about the ship and an introduction to Macquarie Island, a place he and Catherine had lived on for long periods of time. John told us about the botany of the Subantarctic islands and Felicity gave a rundown of the geology of Macquarie Island. To make sure the ‘at sea’ days were even more memorable, the chefs, Nick and Ray, kept a constant stream of beautifully prepared and presented meals coming out of the galley, including a delicious cake to celebrate Joan’s birthday.
Day 7. Thursday 23rd January 2014
We arrived at the northern end of Macquarie Island in the early morning and anchored in Buckles Bay. The sea was a glassy calm. Deep blue, it contrasted perfectly with the lighter blue of the sky, with just the odd little cloud to disturb what otherwise would be a perfectly colour-coded vista. The long swathe of green that was Macquarie Island stretched from left to right like some sort of irregular racing stripe. Most noticeable was the bump of Wireless Hill which sat at the far northern end and looked for all the world like some sort of green-clad version of Ayers Rock poking up from the sea, as if to emphasize that Macquarie Island really should belong to Australia. Despite this, Felicity’s lecture of the day before had clearly demonstrated that from a geological point of view it was more Kiwi than Kangaroo. At its base sat the Macquarie Island Station buildings that housed the staff that live on the island.
Despite the apparent calm, the swell was deemed too great to land passengers safely so Nigel went and picked up four Macquarie Island field staff, who joined us on the Shokalsky as we headed down the length of the island to Lusitania Bay. There we launched all five Zodiacs and cruised close inshore to the King Penguin colony, which contained an astonishing number of birds. Literally hundreds of thousands of King Penguins were seemingly packed cheek-by-bill onto the beach and up a cleft in the valley. In the midst of them sat three large rusting metal cylinders: the digesters used by Joseph Hatch’s men from a time when it was deemed not only profitable but also ethically permissible to boil penguins to extract their oil. They sat there like a scar on the landscape – a monument of Man’s inhumanity to other creatures and disregard for the environment. A small group of Rockhopper Penguins was visible standing on the rocks at one end of the beach. Giant Petrels – of both the dark and white colour morphs – paddled lazily out of the paths of the Zodiacs, but by no more than was necessary. Meanwhile all about us, King Penguins, the odd Royal and Rockhopper Penguin, and cormorants swam by as unconcerned by our presence as it was possible to be.
If the wildlife extravaganza that was Lusitania Bay was impressive, we were about to be treated to more. After returning to the Shokalsky, we headed north for a landing at Sandy Bay. For some this would be the highlight of the whole trip. It was a wildlife lover’s Mecca, a photographer’s paradise. Elephant Seals arranged themselves along the stony beach like small groups of logs discarded by the tide – but logs that seemed to find it necessary to belch and snort and argue with their neighbour at every opportunity. White-faced Royal Penguins, with their crazy bright yellow hairdos, and the more regal orange-accented King Penguins tramped past the seals, turning the beach into a penguin highway. It was impossible to stay 5 metres from the animals as the guidelines suggested. If one sat down, they literally walked right up to you. It was not uncommon to look about and see a penguin investigating another passenger closely, then to look down and realise that a King Penguin was pecking at your boots.
Up a walkway, there was a dense colony of Royal Penguins where, from a lookout, we had an excellent view of their behaviour, which often seemed to mimic that of the Elephant Seals in the way they treated their neighbours and fellow penguins. At the northern end of the beach there was a small colony of King Penguins – well, small by Lusitania standards anyway – where some penguins could be glimpsed with eggs. It is doubtful there was a single person who wanted to leave when ‘time’ was eventually called and we were shuttled reluctantly back to the ship.
Photo: H.Ahern
Day 8. Friday 24rd January 2014
We left our anchorage off Sandy Bay to return to Buckles Bay by 7.30am. Fortunately the conditions were now favourable for a landing and two hours later most off us were ashore and being given a guided tour by the station staff. Green tussock adjoined the stony shore and one had to be careful where one walked because Elephant Seals enjoyed lying in the vegetation and surprisingly, given their size and penchant for making disgusting noises backed by even more disgusting breath, they were not always easy to notice. We climbed a walkway that afforded excellent views over the northern parts of Macquarie Island. Then it was down to Hasselborough Bay on the western side of the island where we got to spend time with a group of Gentoo Penguins, a few moulting King Penguins, the odd tern and some boisterous Elephant Seals.
Afterwards, we were invited into the mess room of the station where we were treated to some of the best scones you’ll ever find south of the Subtropical Convergence and north of it too! A photo of a hirsute Nigel, taken in 1976, looked down at us from the mess wall. On our way back to the Zodiacs we walked past the remains of more of Hatch’s digesters. These were a timely reminder, if any of us needed it, that places like Macquarie are best left to the animals and plants that belong there and that we humans, should we live there at all, are best to concentrate on cooking scones rather than penguins.
We bade farewell to Macquarie Island at 1.30pm and pointed the bow of the Shokalsky south towards the Ross Sea and Antarctica. An hour later and Macquarie had completely disappeared into the mist on our stern. Lloyd gave a lecture on how crested penguins are bizarre enigmas of the biological world, something most had already figured out from their experiences of Royal Penguins on Macquarie Island.
Day 9. Saturday 25th January 2014
For those of us with sensitive stomachs, the mere thought of spending the next four days or so at sea in the notoriously inclement Southern Ocean on a small ship – which if it had any stabilizers at all were apparently missing in action – had been a daunting prospect. We needn’t have worried. The weather gods were kind to us and once again we had a following wind. The tail wind of 25-35 knots helped the ship make good time and, even if rolling about a bit, the journey was more comfortable than we really had a right to expect. Joan gave a lecture on the history of Macquarie Island while Nigel talked about the effects of human impacts on the island. This was followed by a film about the eradication of introduced pests from Macquarie, particularly the cats and rabbits. Later Scott gave a lecture on digital photography and JJ started a ‘community collage’ on the wall of the bar using the printed outputs from our own efforts at digital photography.
Day 10. Sunday 26th January 2014
In a move that received universal approval, the cooks opted to forgo breakfast and have instead a Sunday brunch at 10.30am when they produced a memorable meal of pancakes and eggs benedict. Again it was a day of lectures to fill the spaces between looking at the waves (since leaving Macquarie, there had been just the odd Black-browed Albatross, petrel, prion and Cape Petrel accompanying us). Joan talked about the early discovery of the Ross Sea and Cape Adare. Felicity followed up with the geology of Antarctica. Geir gave an insightful lecture that provided a lot of detail about Amundsen’s successful attempt to reach the South Pole, and Nigel followed up by demonstrating the importance of zooplankton, such as krill, to Antarctic ecology. As if to underline Nigel’s message that the big creatures of Antarctic waters can only exist because of the bounty provided by the small creatures, a krill-eating Fin Whale came right alongside the port side of the ship about 6pm. This was one of the few whale sightings so far.
Day 11. Monday 27th January 2014
At 5am the first iceberg was sighted, with Grace winning the competition to guess when that would occur. Two hours later and we were at 66°S and encountering scattered bergs, big and small, and even the occasional snow squall. The Antarctic Continent felt palpably nearer.
Wiebke gave a lecture about whales – interrupted when Nathan announced our crossing of the Antarctic Circle. Afterwards, Lloyd gave a lecture about the Northern Party, Cape Adare and the first ever detailed study of penguins by Murray Levick. Levick went on to found the Public Schools Exploring Society, which aimed to “provide young people with an intense and lasting experience of self-discovery in wilderness environments”. During this talk Tony (one of our passengers) was invited by Lloyd to share his experiences as the first non-public school boy to go on one of its expeditions.
In the afternoon, Nathan gave a compulsory briefing about environmental guidelines and regulations for visiting the historic huts in the Ross Sea region of Antarctica. This was followed by a lecture from Nigel on the wildlife to be seen at the ice edge. A lone Chinstrap Penguin was sighted on a small berg. While Chinstrap Penguins do not breed in the Ross Sea as such, this one had probably travelled from the not so distant Balleny Islands to our west. Speaking of intrepid travelers, Joan gave a lecture on Scott’s Discovery expedition that demonstrated the bravery of the men involved and just how remarkable were their achievements.
Although satellite imagery showed that the Ross Sea was clearer of pack ice than anytime Nathan had known over the previous 20 years, at this stage the Shokalsky was pushing its way through a light band of sea ice. On the ice could be seen the occasional Crab-eater Seal, while Colgate-white Snow Petrels and Antarctic Fulmars welcomed the ship as it made its way into the Ross Sea. That evening we were entertained in the bar by Wiebke (stage name: Vebka) as she played guitar and sang a suite of her original songs that had just been released on CD. Felicity joined Wiebke for a ‘sing-along’ as they sang some old favourites in remarkably good voices while the rest of us joined in to varying degrees with voices that were sometimes not as musical. It may have been a consequence of the G&Ts, but by then it did not matter and a fun evening was had by all who attended.
Day 12. Tuesday 28th January 2014
We had been heading for Cape Adare in moderate seas, with 15-20 knots of wind coming from the south and a dull, completely overcast sky. The prevailing conditions and all the data the Captain and Nathan had available suggested that a landing there would not be possible and that we would be best to try further down the coast so we changed course and headed instead for Cape Hallett.
We settled into another informative lecture from Joan – this one on Shackleton’s Nimrod expedition and later watched a film about Amundsen and the Fram which was provided by Geir.
This part of the Ross Sea was remarkably clear of ice and only one or two small bergs were sighted during the day. At 5.45pm we passed to the east of Possession Islands – spectacular pinnacles and towers of rock. This may have been near the ends of the Earth, but it looked like some computer-generated imagery from Middle Earth. At 11pm we got close to Cape Hallett, but it turned out to be as close as we would get as ice had been pushed into the cove, blocking our access. However, nights do not come much more beautiful than this one. There was an eerie stillness to the ice-encrusted water and the sun – more glow than bright light – highlighted its gently undulating surface. Behind, the cliffs and massively pointed peaks that surround Cape Hallet provided us with a wonderful first-glimpse of the Antarctic Continent as we eased our way further south.
Photo: H.Ahern
Day 13. Wednesday 29th January 2014
By now we were almost at 76°S with a brisk southerly wind and complete cloud cover. Nigel noted what might be the most southern record for an albatross when a Light-mantled Sooty Albatross cruised by unexpectedly. Scott imparted his tips on how to improve wildlife photography, while Lloyd gave an account of The Worst Journey in the World using the words of Apsley Cherry-Garrard to underscore just how tame was our journey in Antarctica compared to the deprivations suffered by Cherry-Garrard, Wilson and Bowers. It was enough to almost put some of us off our dessert at lunchtime.
After lunch, Joan regaled us with tales of Shackleton’s Ross Sea Party and Felicity, in anticipation of our seeing Mount Erebus, talked about volcanoes associated with the Antarctic. If we needed even more to get us in the mood, after dinner there was a screening of an episode from the BBC’s Frozen Planet. As we continued our way south towards Cape Royds, we encountered the Antarctic Bee, a converted tugboat, heading north.
Day 14. Thursday 30th January 2014
At 3am, the Shokalsky arrived at Cape Royds but the winds were too strong to contemplate a landing so we proceeded onwards to Cape Evans, where we anchored half an hour later. By 5am we were ashore for our first Antarctic landing and what a place to begin! A cold 20 knot southerly wind could not deter the sense of wonderment to be standing before the very hut used by Robert Falcon Scott and his men when they had marched to the South Pole just over a century beforehand. Behind sat the smoking cone of Mount Erebus, the one constant in this area of shifting ice and snow, and humans that come and go. The sea lapped much closer to the hut than one might have expected from photos, because this was such an unusual season in which all the sea ice had broken out, leaving a small stretch of black sand beach a few metres wide being all that stood between the hut and the Ross Sea. This was waterfront property in a way that perhaps its original inhabitants had not experienced.
The hut itself had recently been carefully restored by a team from the Antarctic Heritage Trust and it looked pretty much as solid and as secure as when it had been built. We were allowed in only a few at a time and only after our boots had been given a thorough clean to remove dirt, stones and penguin guano (while Adelie Penguins do not breed that far south, a few were hanging out on the beach where we landed). Inside it is as if time has stood still. If Scott himself had walked through the door, it seemed like we should only have been surprised by his survival, not by his being there. It seemed like he and his men had just left; that we were the ones who had gone back in time. The sense of being in some kind of church or hallowed place was accentuated by the natural light filtering through the windows. There were no artificial lights nor anything to say we were in the 21st Century save for ourselves. Everyone spoke in whispers.
Attached to the main part of the hut were the stables where Oates, especially, had looked after the ponies. At the far end of the stables, a skeleton of one of the dogs lay still chained up, parts of its skin preserved in the dry cold, as if it had continued to wait for Oates even though he’d said he’d be some time. In that sense, Cape Evans was more abandoned graveyard than church as the spectre of death hung over it. It wasn’t just the dead dog. It was there in the emptiness of the stables and the beds, it was there in Scott’s sleeping bag that lay turned back still awaiting his return, It was also there in the cross that sat upon the nearby hill in memory of two members of Shackleton’s Ross Sea Party who had lost their lives when attempting to get from Hut Point to Cape Evans and one who had died even earlier on the way to Hut Point. And another five Antarctic explorers – it hardly needed repeating – had never made it to the Cape Evans hut either. Somewhat incongruously – because it is essentially a creature of the snow and ice – an Emperor Penguin wandered over the black lava headland behind the cross to Mackintosh, Hayward and Spencer-Smith as if to highlight what it took to live in this environment. Many of us sat there photographing it, aware that it belonged there and we did not. The Antarctic is no place for the unadapted or the ill-prepared, we now knew that with certainty.
By 8.30am we were back onboard and steaming out to sea. A landing at Cape Royds was still not possible so we headed to the ice edge in search of wildlife. McMurdo Sound was so clear of ice that we were able to travel further south than would be normal be possible and at 4.45pm, we arrived at the ice shelf and our maximum southerly position for the whole trip of 77.54°S. At the ice edge we saw Adelie Penguins and Weddell Seals, and the Captain brought the ship up close to three obliging Emperor Penguins that were quite happy to pose for photographs even with the Shokalsky looming over them. They were less sanguine about a Leopard Seal that popped its head out of the water to investigate them however. Minke Whales and a couple of Killer Whales were also seen before we travelled across to anchor offshore from McMurdo Station at 8pm.
Photo: H.Ahern
Day 15. Friday 31st January 2014
McMurdo Station is the support base for the American Antarctic programme in the Ross Sea. It was established and essentially maintained by the US military (Navy), so it was especially appropriate that we went ashore in four groups in an operation controlled with military precision. Exactly fifteen minutes apart, our groups were guided through the town-like McMurdo to the science hub, the church, the air traffic control, the store, and the coffee shop: the latter for a welcome coffee and freshly-made cookie.
Initially it had been planned that we would travel by vehicle to nearby Scott Base, the headquarters of the New Zealand Antarctic programme, but after returning to the Shokalsky for lunch, it was announced that the ice in front of Scott Base had just that morning broken out sufficiently to allow for a Zodiac landing there – a rare event indeed. The Captain parked the Shokalsky against the edge of the Ross Ice Shelf a few hundred metres opposite the green buildings of Scott Base. Emperor Penguins and Minke Whales were feeding under the ice and coming up nearby to catch their breaths before going back in search of whatever was there.
Once ferried across to Scott Base in the Zodiacs, we were again divided into groups for guided tours, albeit this time with more casualness as personnel with names like ‘Grumpy’ took us to the store, the hut used by Sir Edmund Hillary, and finally to a luxurious mess, with scones to rival those from Macquarie and an expresso machine. Heaven for some. We were no sooner back aboard the Shokalsky than a pod of Killer Whales came swimming up the lead of open water, right in front of Scott Base. Disappointingly for some, we were unable to go over to them as we had an appointment with those Antarctic Heritage Trust members who were now in the process of restoring Scott’s Hut Point hut as they had at Cape Evans. As it turned out, our insistence of keeping to the schedule was thwarted by the controllers at McMurdo who insisted that we move away from the area while the supply ship, The Green Wave, berthed.
Eventually we were allowed to anchor on the northwestern side of Hut Point and visited Scott’s Discovery Hut at 8pm. The hut was largely bare of its original contents as they had been removed by the Antarctic Heritage Trust workers so that they could be properly catalogued and conserved over the coming winter at Scott Base. In the meantime, two workers from the Trust were repairing the structural aspects of the hut. They pointed out the ‘kit-set’ nature of the way the hut had been designed. Joan gave a potted history of the comings and goings in the hut: for although it was used mainly for storage by Scott during his initial expedition (when the men had lived on the Discovery moored alongside the hut) it was used for shelter at significant times by some members of all the expeditions that were to follow during the Heroic Age. A cross was erected by Scott’s men in 1902 at the very end of the point to honour George Vince, who became disorientated in a blizzard when returning to the ship, slipped down the cliff and drowned.
Late that evening a large party of us went back onshore at McMurdo to climb to the top of Observation Hill. The views over Scott Base, White and Black Islands, Mount Discovery, the Royal Society Mountain Range, McMurdo Sound and McMurdo itself were breathtaking in every sense of the word. Some of us had expended so much oxygen on the way up that it really was a case of needing to suck in air. Perhaps ‘inspiring’ views would be a better word?! We celebrated midnight up there beside the memorial cross erected to commemorate the deaths of Scott, Wilson, Bowers, Oates and Evans. Carved into it were the words from Alfred Lord Tennyson’s poem Ulysses, “To strive, to seek, to find and not to yield.” It seemed as fitting a eulogy as could be imagined under the circumstances. As we made our way back to the Zodiacs on the landing beach at McMurdo, an Emperor Penguin padded its way down a gravel road. If the Emperor at Cape Evans had made us look out of place in that environment, here it was the Emperor Penguin itself that looked out of place: a beautiful creature seemingly somewhat bemused and befuddled before a backdrop of machinery, buildings and disturbances to the landscape that we humans have a knack for creating. This was not so much March of the Penguins as it was evidence of the march of so-called ‘civilization’.
As we climbed the steps up the gangway of the Shokalsky for a well earned rest, some of us could be forgiven for wondering whether there was no place on the planet not touched by the hand of Homo sapiens. Whether you thought that was a good thing or not probably depended upon whether you preferred the penguin at Cape Evans or the one at McMurdo.
Photo: H.Ahern
Day 16. Saturday 1st February 2014
We left McMurdo in the early hours of the morning and steamed up to Cape Royds, arriving there at 3.15am, to find that the conditions were worse than those we had encountered two days earlier with the wind blowing at 35-40 knots. The Captain took us out to sea again and we waited. By 7.30am a dramatic change occurred and with the wind down to a paltry 5 knots, we anchored gratefully on the south side of Cape Royds. Even then, the amount of ice in the bay posed some problems for a landing. However, the ice also offered an unexpected bonus: two Leopard Seals were hauled out, side by side, on the largest of the ice floes, while a third was cruising the shoreline looking for penguins. It had snowed overnight and the normally dark lava rocks of Cape Royds were partially covered with a white coating that made the outlook especially picturesque. It was a winter wonderland, except that this was summer. No matter, we traipsed through the snow to Shackleton’s Hut with a spring in our steps.
Once more there were the obligatory line-ups as only eight persons could be in the hut at any one time. Many chose to sit and watch the Adelie Penguins in the nearby colony before coming to the hut. Although it was overcast, it was bright and clear with visibility easily extending across the sound to the base of huge mountains. It was immediately apparent that Shackleton had a good deal of taste when it came to selecting real estate. The setting for the hut was as picturesque as any could be in Antarctica or, for that matter, anywhere. It was nestled beside a small frozen lake with the penguins breeding beyond and further out across the open water of McMurdo Sound could be viewed the regal and hence aptly named, Royal Society Mountain Range.
The inside of the hut itself was more homely than Scott’s had been. Socks hung from a line drying. Leather and canvas boots sat beside the stove. Light from the windows streamed onto the beds. A framed pair of photographs of King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra looked down from one wall. In the shelves there were Sunlight Soap, Colman’s Corn-flour and tins of roasted mutton and Irish stew. While Scott’s hut at Evans had seemed dark and cavernous and sprinkled with death, this one seemed cosy. If given a choice there’d be no choice: this would be the hut nearly everyone would pick to stay in. We left the hut with a good deal more reluctance than even the degree of anticipation with which we had arrived. One of the Leopard Seals was still stretched out on the floes when we returned to the landing spot, so Nigel and Catherine took the Zodiacs in for some close-up views of the innocent looking killer.
Photo: M.Holland
We departed Cape Royds at 2pm and arrived at Cape Bird three hours later. The light was gorgeous – dark and ethereal. To the left were the sheer ice cliffs of the Mount Bird Ice-cap and the land here too, had received a dusting of snow. Only in the penguin colony itself was the snow mostly gone, so that it showed up as a dark brown swatch of colour in what was otherwise a largely whitish landscape. There was open water right up to the penguin colony and the push-ice had largely gone from the beach, but the steepness of the beach, the 1.5 metre surf break and the scattered lumps of ice along the beach made for a tricky landing. The Northern Colony at Cape Bird is home to some 60,000 pairs of breeding penguins and it seemed like just about every one of them was walking along a pathway near the beach – a sort of penguin highway and with much more traffic than the one we had encountered on Macquarie. It was impossible not to be enthralled by these iconic creatures of the Antarctic. As well as the black and white adults, there were a lot of large chicks near to fledging, many sporting a top-knot of down. We set about either photographing the penguins to our hearts’ content or simply observing them. Further down the beach towards the ice cliffs, a Weddell Seal lay hauled out trying to sleep, its head within hearing distance if not pecking distance of the cacophonous penguins. If their noise bothered the seal, it did not show any signs of that. It seemed as uninterested in its surroundings as we were interested.
We would have gladly stayed there for hours more but suddenly we were called back sooner than expected. The swell had increased and we needed to evacuate the beach while we still could. The Zodiac drivers did a sterling job getting us back to the ship in a heaving sea without getting too many of us wet or too much of us wet. Nevertheless, as we set sail at 8.30pm, many of us were very sad to go. It is hard to pick favourites in an expedition full of delights but, if forced to, Cape Bird would be high up on just about everybody’s lists.
Photo: N.Brothers
Day 17. Sunday 2nd February 2014
We arose at 3am for a cruise along the face of the Ross Ice Shelf. The Adelie Penguin colonies on the eastern end of Ross Island, at Cape Crozier, were clearly visible in the background, backlit by the sun. The irregular cliffs of the Ross Ice Shelf with their regular, straight-as-a-die flat tops were relentless and it seemed, never ending. We cruised along them for one-and-a-half hours and they still stretched as far as the eye could see and truth be told, much, much further than that too. It is a journey that names like Scott and Shackleton, Amundsen and Pennell have made, but very few Antarctic travellers of the modern era get that opportunity, be they scientists or tourists. We passed by a small piece of ice covered with penguins and then, as if to emphasize that this untouched and seldom travelled part of Antarctica belonged exclusively to the penguins and whales, a group of three Minke Whales surfaced briefly between us and the ice shelf. We left it to them and headed north: destination Franklin Island.
We passed by the western shores of Franklin Island at 11am. The blue skies and fluffy white clouds made it all look rather benign, but even from one kilometre away we could see from the heavy surf break onto the black sand beaches that conditions for landing were unsuitable. Much of the island is covered in a large ice cap that ends in steep cliffs, but at the south-western end the exposed volcanic cliffs revealed a large colony of Adelie Penguins breeding at their base. We headed on towards the Drygalski Ice Tongue until our progress was slowed somewhat at 4pm at 75.41°S, 165.55°E when we encountered pack ice. This eventually halted us altogether an hour-and-a-half later when we were not far from the southern side of the Drygalski Ice Tongue. At this point we were treated to an impressive hunting display by a group of Killer Whales which spy hopped from one ice floe to another in search of prey.
Lloyd had given a lecture on penguins and Wiebke gave one on filmmaking but this was interrupted, first by power failures and then by the excitement evinced by the Killer Whales. Undaunted by our failure to reach the Drygalski on its southern side, we retreated to the east to get to more ice-free conditions, intent on taking the Shokalsky to the northern side of the ice tongue and on to Terra Nova Bay. Ray and Nick had prepared a Sunday roast of lamb and chicken followed by banoffee pie – a delicious way to end the day.
Photo: H.Ahern
Day 18. Monday 3rd February 2014
We were woken at 7am to check out the Drygalski Ice Tongue as we sailed by its indented edge. Its cliffs of ice were more gnarled and tortured looking, with less regular geometric shapes than those of the Ross Ice shelf had been. Bergs that had been carved off the glacier floated nearby. After breakfast we headed over to a blue berg with four Adelie Penguins resting on its rounded and irregular curves. We circumnavigated the berg twice for the sake of the photographers onboard and then at 9.45am we began our journey towards Inexpressible Island.
Unfortunately the closer we got to the island the rougher the sea conditions became and it was clear the area was being subjected to katabatic winds exceeding 50 knots. The wind chill was exceedingly cold even though the temperature was a relatively mild -8°C – or at least it would have been mild without the wind. From the warm confines of the ship’s interior it seemed hard to fathom how the members of the Northern Party could have possibly coped with spending a winter there in a snow cave with few provisions. As a consequence of the wind, we continued on to the unoccupied German station of Gondwana at the base of Terra Nova Bay.
At 2.30pm we landed on a small sandy beach amongst 10 nonchalant Weddell Seals. We were free to wander over the moonscape-like rocks where to the left sat the neat orange buildings of the German base. A moulting Emperor Penguin and a recently fledged Adelie Penguin sat as awkwardly as each other on the rocks of a nearby headland. Skuas swooped and dive-bombed those intent on walking over the ridge to the right to get a view of the Korean base that is being constructed – a scar on the landscape in front of the symmetrical and perfectly formed Mount Melbourne. We left the beach three hours later and took a Zodiac cruise along the nearby Campbell Glacier. An Emperor Penguin on a small iceberg posed for more photographs than most of us will ever have taken of ourselves during our lifetimes. The light, the penguin, the setting: it was all perfect. If a picture can tell a thousand words, then that penguin had just produced the avian equivalent of War and Peace.
We motored back to the region of Inexpressible Island to find that the katabatic winds still persisted. During the night we would take our little ship backwards and forwards as we waited and hoped for the winds to drop.
Photo: N.Brothers
Day 19. Tuesday 4th February 2014
By 8am, the call was made by Nathan that we could wait for the winds to abate no longer. Sadly, we left the unvisited Inexpressible Island on the horizon as we turned for Cape Hallett. We encountered a 40 knot southerly and rough seas, but as the day wore on the wind dropped, the seas calmed and conditions became merely foggy. We settled into our ‘at sea routine’ with lectures from Nigel on seabird by-catch, and Joan on Scott’s race to the pole, to complement the one Geir had given earlier about Amundsen. That evening Wiebke and Felicity entertained us again with their singing in the bar, with Wiebke performing memorable covers of songs by Janis Ian and Ed Sheeran as well as her own songs.
Day 20. Wednesday 5th February 2014
By 6am we were a little over a nautical mile from Cape Hallett, but the ice that had prevented us from landing there on the way down was even more impenetrable. We opted instead for a bitterly cold Zodiac cruise along the pack ice edge in winds that had increased to 25 knots by the time it was over at 9.30am. We did see the odd Adelie Penguin resting on the ice and for those in Nigel’s Zodiac there was a slightly tense moment when we became completely hemmed in by the pack ice and the thought of doing a ‘mini Shokalsky’ entered our heads. However, Nigel deftly manoeuvred the craft and we pushed our way to freedom and the very welcome hot showers aboard the real Shokalsky. Actually, that is something that deserves recording somewhere, and here is as probably as good as anywhere. The showers on the Shokalsky were excellent with plenty of really hot water and enough pressure to take your skin off if you weren’t careful.
The decision was taken to press on to the Possession Islands but unfortunately, the landing conditions there were also unworkable. There was nothing else for it but to continue on to Cape Adare with the slightly uncomfortable feeling in our stomachs that the Antarctic Continent was simply not going to let us get close to it again. We rounded the spectacularly severe Downshire Cliffs about 5pm and were blown away (literally and figuratively) by the truly magnificent sight of Cape Adare. It had what Leon Uris might have called a ‘terrible beauty’. It was windswept, cold and barren and – save for a small spit of flat ground (Ridley Beach) that jutted into Robertson Bay – it was a place of verticals. Stretching from the point we had just come around was a large 180° arc of sheer cliffs, mountains and glaciers. The winds were coming down from those mountains and glaciers at between 30 and 40 knots. It was easy to appreciate why Scott’s Northern Party had effectively been marooned here on Ridley Beach: there was really nowhere else one could go.
Cape Adare is the site of the largest Adelie Penguin colony in the world and while many of them it seemed had crammed into every spare space on Ridley Beach, it was amazing to see just how far some of them were prepared to climb up the cliffs and mountainside in order to breed. The huts of Carston Borchgrevink (whose expedition was the first to overwinter in the Antarctic), with the dilapidated remains of the Northern Party’s hut nearby, were clearly visible on the far side of the spit of beach, completely surrounded by penguins. We anchored on the eastern side of Ridley Beach and there was much excitement amongst the passengers in anticipation of our landing at such an historically significant site. Unbeknownst to most of us, a Zodiac bearing Nathan, Scott (the photographer) and John (the DOC observer) landed them on the beach and they got to see the huts and photograph them. However, upon their return, Nathan deemed the swell on the beach to be too dangerous and he took the decision to cancel the proposed landings for others.
At nearly midnight when conditions had improved, we were woken and offered the consolation of a Zodiac cruise along the ice-encrusted shore of Ridley Beach. Virtually every vantage point was packed with fledgling penguins seemingly building up the courage for their first swim. Flocks of adult penguins porpoised to and from the beach, with one or two jumping into the Zodiacs – perhaps in the mistaken belief that we represented some hitherto unseen black ice berg or, better still, dry land. The chicks that did venture into the sea, flapped their flippers frantically, sitting high in the water, not yet used to their new environment. That was Ridley Beach really: the sheer number of penguins onshore, the frantic nature of those in the water, the smashing surf, and the shifting ice. It was chaos, but from our perspective, an enjoyable chaos to behold. On the way back to the ship we circled an ice berg shaped like Old Mother Hubbard’s shoe with a group of Adelies and one out-of-place Emperor Penguin nestled into what would have been the tongue of the shoe.
Photo: N.Brothers
Day 21. Thursday 6th February 2014
The day dawned reasonably fine but still the conditions were deemed not suitable for a landing. At 11.45am we took to the Zodiacs and had a memorable cruise that took in large ice bergs, Killer Whales and most spectacularly of all, a Leopard Seal leaping onto an ice floe and catching a terrified and slow-moving fledgling Adelie Penguin chick. The seal then proceeded to slap its unfortunate victim from side to side and as far as we could tell, devour most of it.
Although we theoretically had the whole day up our sleeves to wait for a landing (the Captain wanted to depart by midnight), Nathan took the decision that the deep and persistent southerly swell was not likely to allow conditions to improve sufficiently in that time and that we had better set sail for Campbell Island – over 1,100 nautical miles away – and have more time to play with in the Subantarctic islands. At 2.30pm we set off, leaving the Antarctic in our wake with just its Snow Petrels to accompany us. By 5pm we had reached 70.53°S and encountered our first albatross: one of the Light-mantled Sooty kind.
Photo: L.Davis
Day 22. Friday 7th February 2014
Our way was largely clear, except for a band of ice we encountered for some 15 minutes or so at 9am when at 67.57°S 169.57°E. Seven-and-a half hours later we crossed the Antarctic Circle. We began to see our first Cape Petrel – after many days absence – and other more northern seabird species such as Sooty Shearwaters, White-headed Petrels, Mottled Petrels and Antarctic Prions.
In the morning, Lloyd gave a lecture about seals that featured his son Eligh as a Weddell Seal pup, and Joan gave a lecture that featured much of what the Americans had done in the Ross Sea following the Heroic Age. In the afternoon it was Nigel and JJ’s turns to inform, with the former explaining why population monitoring was important and how to do it, and the latter telling and showing us about her project on faces of the Southern Ocean. The day was finished off with a screening of Ponting's film The Great White Silence, which was filmed during the Terra Nova Expedition and originally released in 1924, before being restored and re-released three years ago by the British Film Institute.
Day 23. Saturday 8th February 2014
This turned out to be a day given almost completely to the Southern Ocean. By 7am we were already at 64.40°S and making good time as we headed more or less due north in 25-30 knot westerly winds. The sea was rough, the sky dull and overcast.
The rough conditions meant that the morning’s lectures needed to be postponed and most took to their bunks or the library. In the afternoon Bob Mossel entertained us with stories of his travels through Papua New Guinea and his epic walk (Bob was the first person to walk across Australia). By 6pm the seas and winds had moderated slightly. The evening film was an episode (summer) from the Frozen Planet.
Day 24. Sunday 9th February 2014
The rough conditions persisted, but we were making good time and averaging about 11 knots. By 7am we were at 59.11°S and still on a trajectory close to due north. Over the course of the day, the 15 knot westerly increased to 40 knots. Again we missed out on the sun with complete cloud cover present for the whole day. By 7pm we had moved a whole two degrees further north, despite the turbulent seas. Nigel had been able to deliver his lecture on the life histories of albatross and petrels in the morning, but the worsening state of the sea in the afternoon had caused the cancellation of Felicity’s lecture. Once more an episode of the Frozen Planet occupied the evening film slot.
Day 25. Monday 10th February 2014
We were greeted by the same dull cloud cover when we got up in the morning. Now at 54.45°S, however, it was joined by misty rain. We had been seeing seabirds consistently but in relatively small numbers. That all changed at 4.45pm when we encountered a vast flock of feeding seabirds at 52.30°S. It contained thousands upon thousands of Sooty Shearwaters, at least five species of albatross and Cape Petrels. The photographers amongst us had a field day and the ship circled the area several times to allow us to take it all in, whether we were using a camera or not.
A film about the rat eradication programme on Campbell Island – the largest undertaken anywhere in the world – had been screening when we came across the feathered feeding frenzy. It was not long before we got to see the real thing. At 5.10pm we had our first glimpse of Campbell Island and a bit over a couple of hours later we had entered Perseverance Harbour, with excellent views of the island and its wildlife on both sides of the ship, as we travelled to our anchorage. Some commented that the rugged hills covered with stunted vegetation reminded them of Scotland. By 8pm we had come to rest and soon after that we were celebrating Curtis’ birthday with a cake made for the photographic enthusiast by Ray and Nick in the shape of a camera.
Day 26. Tuesday 11th February 2014
After a briefing, we ventured ashore at 9.45am, landing at Beeman Cove amongst a cluster of disused buildings that had once been used primarily for the meteorological station that had been maintained there since 1958. Nathan led a group of 14 on a hike to Northwest Bay (the ‘long walk’) while the majority of us ascended a boardwalk that took us some way up Mount Lyall to a group of breeding Southern Royal Albatross (the ‘short walk’, albeit, some commented it was longer than they imagined a short walk to be). The ‘long walkers’ had a magnificent day, also encountering many albatross, but seeing the Campbell Island Teal and the Campbell Island Snipe as well. The highlight for some, however, was the group of big adult male Elephant Seals they came across on the beach.
The rest of us had a more relaxed day, observing the Australasian Pipits and the albatross. To be sure it was windy and misty but that somehow added to the atmosphere – this was the Subantarctic after all. An albatross sitting on a young chick received the most attention, with many sitting and waiting patiently for an hour or more just to get a glimpse of the fluffy white bundle and the opportunity to see it being fed by its parent. Higher up the boardwalk were large tracts of the purple-flowered Pleurophyllum speciosum or Campbell Island Daisy as it is often called, a megaherb native to Campbell Island and the Auckland Islands. They looked both incongruous and stunning in the mist, as if some gardener had planted a field of these flowers in the most unlikely of places. Unfortunately the mist and cloud prevented views down onto the beaches on the western side of the island, but many of us sat for a while at the top of the cliffs just to experience the full force of the wind on our faces. This was the Subantarctic after all!
The ‘long walkers’ ended their journey at 5pm when they were picked up from Tucker Cove. This was about the same time that those ‘short walkers’ who had remained up on the boardwalk were treated to displays between the albatross that involved much clacking of bills and head bobbing. A group of Hooker’s Sea Lions entertained us as we boarded the Zodiacs at Beeman Cove and by 7.15pm we were all back aboard the Shokalsky. After a hot shower we adjourned to the bar, where an auction was held of items brought by the passengers. This was to raise funds for the Last Ocean – a coalition of organizations battling to have the Ross Sea made into a marine protected area. Considering where we’d been, it seemed like an especially appropriate cause and with Lloyd acting as auctioneer, we managed to raise over $3,000 USD and have the odd laugh along the way even though the objective of the auction remained a very serious matter.
Photo: H.Ahern
Day 27. Wednesday 12th February 2014
Three of us were scheduled for a hike up Mount Honey departing at 6am, but a quick look out the porthole revealed a dense low fog and total cloud cover. The hike was cancelled but at 9.30am we all boarded the Zodiacs and cruised the shores of Tucker Cove and Camp Cove. This afforded us excellent views of cormorants, teals and a Giant Petrel eating greedily from a dead Sea Lion. A bunch of Sea Lions that were very much alive seemed to enjoy tailing the Zodiacs and leaping from the water acrobatically. Mike, Ray and Wiebke did their best to capture the underwater action with Go-pros, while those of us with more conventional cameras concentrated on the above water images.
We had a brief landing to inspect what is known as the Loneliest Tree in the World. The Sitka Spruce is the only tree on Campbell Island (the island is otherwise covered in low-lying shrubs and bushes). For many years it was used as the source of Christmas trees for those living at the nearby meteorological station. It is thought that the tree was planted by Lord Ranfurly, the onetime Governor General of New Zealand, when on an expedition to the island in 1907. An inquisitive (and some might say aggressive) Sea Lion initially blocked our return to the Zodiacs but we were soon back aboard the Shokalsky for lunch.
After lunch many of us jumped at the chance to go back up the boardwalk to see the albatross. It was even mistier than the previous day but the albatross were more active too, with some walking right up to us as we stood or sat on the boardwalk. It is only when they are literally within spitting distance that one can truly appreciate their enormous size. It is a wonder they can fly. But fly they can and the albatross put on an aerial display for us to rival that of any air show. Further down the boardwalk a few of us were lucky enough to see and even photograph the elusive Campbell Island Snipe and a Yellow-eyed Penguin with a chick. At 11pm the Captain ordered the anchor to be raised and we began our journey to the Snares Islands, the place that had been the first of this voyage’s proposed destinations, but which had to be abandoned because of the foul weather soon after we had left Bluff nearly a month earlier.
Photo: N.Brothers
Day 28. Thursday 13th February 2014
The conditions approaching the Snares this time could not have been more different. We were travelling comfortably northwards in a light southerly breeze with a moderate southeasterly swell. By 7am our position was 51.25°S 168.36°E. Nigel gave a lecture about the Sooty Shearwaters on the Snares and one on ways of mitigating seabird by-catch in fisheries. Nathan gave a lecture introducing the Snares Islands and Scott completed the series by giving a workshop on how to use Photoshop and the like to enhance digital images.
At 7pm a pod of Killer Whales tracked us for 30 minutes (or was it us tracking them?), streaking towards the ship through the waves before coming right alongside. Oftentimes they could be seen quite clearly under the water, swimming close to the hull of the Shokalsky and looking up at us. With Lois and John both having birthdays, there were plenty of celebrations in the bar that evening and cheese platters all round before dinner.
Day 29. Friday 14th February 2014
Daylight at around 6.30am revealed that we were within striking distance of the Snares Islands, with the silhouette of Broughton Island nearby. The skies were filled with massive numbers of Sooty Shearwaters and petrels as they made their morning exits from their burrows onshore.
Despite extremely gusty winds, the sea conditions allowed us to undertake a Zodiac cruise up the eastern coast of Snares Island. We were able to get in really close to the rocky shore, drifting in the still waters of inlets where we got terrific views of New Zealand Fur Seals, Hooker’s Sea Lions, and Snares Penguins. We were even able to see some of the small land birds, such as Fernbirds and the beautiful black Snares Tomtit. We also saw one lone and presumably quite lost Fiordland Penguin. Where the sea met the rocks, attractive gold-coloured kelp swayed gently in the currents. The only place it did not was at the so-called ‘penguin slide’, where the comings and goings of thousands of penguins keep the rocks free of kelp as they somehow managed to scramble up an astoundingly steep slab of rock en route to their nests. From their own pedestal-like nests perched on the sides of the cliffs, Buller’s Albatross looked down at us. Of all the places we’d been on our remarkable voyage, the Snares Islands seemed the most pristine. The islands positively dripped with wildlife. It was a delightful way to end the voyage. We left the Snares at 10.30am and by 2pm, with Stewart Island in sight and sunshine all around, we assembled on the bow of the Shokalsky for a group photo.
Nestled in the lee of Stewart Island, we gathered eagerly in the lecture room as Scott played a short film of the journey made by Wiebke, then a long slide show of his stunning photos, followed with a marvellous collection of photographs taken by the passengers. Every one of them had captured beautiful, beautiful memories: moments to treasure from a journey that we’d all taken together and which had, in virtually every way, exceeded our expectations. The chefs had prepared a delicious roast as a farewell dinner and it was washed down with wine and cheers and a lot of good spirits of the non-alcoholic kind.
Day 30. Saturday 15th February 2014
In the early hours of the morning, the Shokalsky had been met by the pilot at the entrance to Bluff Harbour and escorted to its berth on the high tide – so that when we awoke, we found we were tied up exactly in the same place we had departed from on the 18th of January.
It proved to be a quick and orderly disembarkation. A final breakfast with bags packed and left outside cabins so that they could picked up and transported where they needed to go. A customs and immigration check. Then it was time to say goodbyes to all the newly made friends, crew and passengers alike, before boarding the bus for the city and lives that would be hard pressed to seem as exciting as the previous 30 days.
