“Antarctica: The Ultimate Adventure” Part 2 The Landscape
Rather than watch the Discovery channel, a semi-circumnavigation of the Antarctic is a journey of discovery. Part 2 of the Ultimate Adventure presents a festival of landscapes and experiences from a real life adventure.
This voyage of discovery set sail from the port of Ushuaia then journeyed across the Drake Passage to the sub-Antarctic, southwest to the Ross Sea and McMurdo Sound into the heart of the Antarctic then north to the sub-Antarctic Islands of New Zealand.
Broadcasting adventure, we sailed by icebreaker. Originally designed to clear the seaways around the coast of Siberia and capable of operating in temperatures down to minus 50 degrees, Kapitan Khlebnikov is engineered to crush ice 3 meters thick. Her blueprint allows freedom of manoeuvre venturing into seldom seen and visited areas; she is the only ship operating in the Antarctic with this flexibility. For 29 days she is home.
Ushuaia is the most southern city in the world, departure point for the Polar Regions. Rainbow dappled houses patchwork the shoreline, snow dusted foothills heave from the sea, mountains spire towards the clouds; air chilled, clean and fresh drizzles from the heavens.
The geological and meteorology features of the Antarctic are not unique; ice, snow, water, sea, mountains, rocks, air, wind, sky. What defines the Antarctic is the amalgamation of these elements, the compass points they saturate and the limitless horizons they occupy. There are no familiar constraints, no town plans, no fences to restrict or define space, no states or territorities, it is a shock to see so much emptiness; the landscapes classify the areas and divisions of the Antarctic.
Neko Harbour is the first polar landing on the continent of Antarctica; the minute is supercharged, eagerness and exhilaration abound. Zodiacs motor through the watery serpentine. Nimbly gazing around snow is everywhere; sprinkled onto entire mountainsides, bedrock exposed only where the load is too much and the lion's share has fallen into the deep navy water. Glaciers, crevasses and faults are ubiquitous, ice blue they twinkle in the sunshine. Ice shifting “Antarctic thunder” avalanches break the silences, the reverberation resonates, surges ripple across the water. Countless shades of blue water, ice and sky overtake your psyche; one feels’ pint size in this magnificent picturesque opulence.
Port Lockroy initially a British Station known, as Base A is now a museum administered by the UK Antarctic Heritage Trust. Bransfield House has been restored and houses the museum, shop and post office. Three BAS staff live at Port Lockroy in the summer to maintain the historic site and play postman. Across the way at Jungla Point, the beach is littered with bleached whalebones revealing a tale of woe and slaughter. It is hard to imagine anything gruesome happening here. Perfect weather, no clouds, no breeze; we wander without parkas or gloves, like a summer’s day. Almost transparent visibility through the water is 20 metres. Just before the algal bloom you can see into the centre of the earth. The bloom is a month away; then the water becomes a murky pale brown.
On Peterman’s Island 3 scientists are doing field research. Due to the gorgeous weather they had gone to visit a neighbour for what is probably a much-appreciated shower. Their tenancy is 3 small yellow tents and a mess cum laboratory tent. Nearby a large cross on a small raised mound is a memorial to 3 compatriots who lost their lives on a field trip, a reminder never to take this environment for granted. You must be self-reliant as help is not around the corner.
To park overnight at Marguerite Bay in Crystal Sound the KK is garaged in the fast ice (ice attached to land). The ship is driven into the ice and wedged perpendicular to the sea; the ocean floor is far too deep for the anchor chain.
In the midst of exclamations and awe our zippy helicopter flew across the fast ice, past tabular icebergs to Stonington Island where a glacier ran along one entire wall of the valley. Jagged edges, icy facade and fastidious detail ascend from the whiteout base of the valley. Juxtaposition, colossal and haunting, the diffused light show charmed your senses; pastel blue frescoes with watercolour pink brushstrokes like cotton candy feathered the upper vestiges of the glacier. Sitting awestruck on a frozen ledge probing left to right, every glance awarded new details, new shapes and colour deviations.
The glacier is mesmerising, elysian; virtual reality inside a glossy travel photograph. A superb souvenir; nature is bewitching. John Muir said “to dine with a glacier on a sunny day is a glorious thing and makes feasts of meat and wine ridiculous. Glaciers eat hills and drink sunbeams”.
Leaving the glacier with the sun shimmering and the ice sparkling, rich golden tinted light captured the last rays until midnight. This landscape is a perpetual installation.
You begin to understand the logistics of this expedition, the icebreaker, helicopters and zodiacs; the Antarctic is a wilderness. The scene from the bridge is a spectacle of geography stretching to the end of the world - we are at the end of the world. Several seals and penguins inhabit the shifting ice in the middle of nowhere; the Ross Sea is 450 kilometres to the SW and the nearest land is 250 kilometres to the west. What are these animals doing out here?
Ross Ice Shelf looms ahead, at 800 kilometres long, 30 meters above water and 200 below, reaching 500 kilometres into the Ross Sea, covering an area larger than France it is HUGE. Travelling along its length will be a two day journey if the ice is kind. For an intimate encounter we sailed to within 100 meters of the immense vertical cliffs; white walls straight up channelled by the elements, like plant roots, hundreds of fractured veins allow light to enter the dense spaces. Ice edges reflect the ocean and sky pigmentations while the uplift is reminiscent of a 50’s crew cut hairstyle.
Helicopters fire up for a flight to the Ross Shelf, group two board now. Near the landing site the advance team arranged champagne in the ice, perfect!!!! glasses poured. Instructions suggested if you follow the red marker flags to the edge of the shelf there is a treat. While Tony was reconnoitring a crevasse opened. “Line up, line up” like the age old circus chant, word passed quickly around “for your viewing, an ice crevasse encounter, hurry…. hurry…. closing soon ”. The gap is half a meter wide exuding adventure. Viewed from a prone position roped to a safety line, inching over the edge it went down forever, a labyrinth of shades pale icy blue graduating to rich deep icy sapphire blue. From the minute I got off the helicopter to the edge of the shelf, stumbling knee high in the fresh snow, I giggled to myself. “Travel Utopia”, what delicious fun. It also underscored how insignificant we “Mortals” are. We look like dust particles in this vast icescape.
Wake up at 0630 is not good news. 23 kilometres from McMurdo Sound but the wind is 34 knots and the helicopters are rated at 17 knots. Plan B, we helicopter into the desolate arid Dry Valleys.
One of the most extreme ecosystems in the world, the Dry Valleys are virtually free from ice and snow all year around. The inhospitable bronzed terrain has been stripped raw by the devilish katabatic winds that race across the basins. Life forms are limited to lichens and algae as evaporation exceeds precipitation. Curiously there are 3 petrified seals in the valley, lost, 50 miles from the ocean. An unearthly karma dominates the area. NASA utilised the region as a simulator for the surface of Mars.
Mount Erebus is in the near distance, an active volcano currently at rest. Small wisps of vapour rise and nestle on top, melting into the breeze, which leisurely stirs them. In the clear sky the wreckage of the DC10 tourist flight NZ flight 901, which crashed in 1979 is visible.
Transfer to Shackleton’s Hut at Cape Royds is by helicopter. Built in 1907 for his Nimrod Expedition that included an attempt to reach the South Pole. It is a short distance to Scott’s hut at Cape Evans established in 1911. Though the legendary explorers have passed on both huts are linked not only through inspirational feats of exploration and scientific achievement but endurance and tragedy. Restoration work is saving these priceless monuments.
At Cape Royds one of the hut restorers a young muscular smiling New Zealander enjoyed the summer temperatures in a T-shirt, chitchatting about the work being undertaken. On parting he said “Thank You for dropping by”. Not quite the reply I was expecting. Only 2,000 tourists a year visit this region and not all are able to visit the hut.
The NZ authorities insist that a member of the Antarctic Historical Trust travels with each group to ensure the huts integrity is maintained and strictly controlled, Great Job!! At Shackleton’s hut, only 40 people are allowed on the site and 7 people are permitted to be in the hut at any one time.
Shackleton’s hut is a blanched prefabricated dwelling, 15 men originally slept in it. The interior is dim with a rustic ambience; they say, “there are friendly ghosts there”. You cannot smell the smoke nor feel the fires’ warmth; but you can envisage an era filled with dreams; explorations part planned, part executed. Human touches, tins of food, clothing still hung and arranged for the next wear, bunks ready for sleeping; all enshrined. Hopes and goals imbedded in the walls, linger in the air. It would have been perfect to have a quiet minute alone, but not to be, the queue is waiting.
Scott’s Hut at Cape Evans is also being restored with 85 tons of ice being dug out to gain access. In the hut and nearby stables sadness lingers; the table is set, waiting for the explorers to return. From the hilltop you can see the valley Scott travelled up on his ill-fated expedition to be the first to reach the South Pole, 800 kilometres away.
Beyond the huts there is genuine isolation; a one kilometre wide gaping featureless diorama bordered by mountains and glaciers, the vastness is confronting. Random blotches of russet gravel splattered near the huts are the only tonal variation in the endless white on white panorama.
Early summer and the sea is only 5 kilometres away. In high summer the ice melts and the whole valley is liquid; in winter it is 500 kilometres across fast ice to open water. Entertain the feelings of seclusion, waving your supply ship goodbye conscious a frigid nocturnal season is ahead of you.
Overwhelming silence is deafening, so quiet to be audible. Antarctica is its own timekeeper; things are done at its tempo not yours. The assemblage of restored huts, the stillness, the scale is jaw-dropping. I gaze to the horizon, seeking nothing but to be part of this place. Tranquillity is broken by the thump of the helicopter; my icebreaker awaits.
Fridtjof Nansen philosophised: “Most people might be oppressed by such surroundings with its silence and inhuman expanses. But he who seeks peace and quiet in nature, undisturbed by human activity.... will find here what he seeks…even though, beset by ice, one is a plaything of the forces of nature”.
Evening and dinner comes, the sun is continually present, there is no night it merely brushes the horizon and rises again. After dinner, there was gluhwein on the forward deck, everyone rugged up, a farewell to the Antarctic. Cheers, laughter and faraway looks to a world that has delighted, amazed and absorbed us for weeks. We have 2 more stops to make but they are in the sub-Antarctic and are not the same. The sea birds soaring and diving around us herald our return to the northern latitudes.
On Campbell Island, views down the valley to the sea offered splashes of blue among the flinty coloured tufted swaying meadows, sprinkled with sunbeam yellow flashes hedged by green textures. You must be watchful of the path as there are soft boggy patches to ensnare the careless. The only misadventure I suffered was a minor fall into the bog; a loss of dignity, a brush down of my trousers and I was on my way.
Back in the southern seas, the ocean’s rock and roll has returned with a vengeance. Everyone moves with one hand on the rail trying to find the ships rhythm. Getting about has the appearance of an inebriated swagger with the body listing from side to side; an awkward jig.
How quickly we have left the Antarctic. White and blue iceberg blocks that sparkled in the sunlight are replaced with hills hosting grass and foliage. The sea’s blackness is replaced by soft royal blue fringed with white caps; this transition occurred within 2 days of travelling north. Daylight has given back the night, light now rules the cycles of life.
Enderby Island is a wildlife paradise, 5 kilometres long by 3 kilometres wide landing is at a small research station, backed by a tangled rata forest. Overcast and 11°C does not feel warm; wind gusting and waves frothing, its important to dress warmly.
The Rata Forest is tranquil and sheltered with a maze of snow gum coloured tree trunks through which you must pick a path, all the while the wind is howling through the upper branches. Walking through the forest and the protected lower reaches, we were serenaded by a sweet melody; their movements secretive, the birds were small and fast.
Out of the forest and up the hill into gale force winds roaring in from the ocean, unchecked by hindrances. The weather is miserable, the sky is overcast and rain is visible in the distance and still the wind gusts.
Leaving the Sub-Antarctic Islands we head towards home and family, the adventure over but the memories will last forever.
I trust you have enjoyed Part 2 of the Ultimate Adventure and found the landscapes marvellous. Part 3 will introduce the wildlife of the Antarctic to thrill and delight You.
Author: Jan Thompson
e-mail: jan@pcandjt.com
Web Site: www.pcandjt.com
This voyage of discovery set sail from the port of Ushuaia then journeyed across the Drake Passage to the sub-Antarctic, southwest to the Ross Sea and McMurdo Sound into the heart of the Antarctic then north to the sub-Antarctic Islands of New Zealand.
Broadcasting adventure, we sailed by icebreaker. Originally designed to clear the seaways around the coast of Siberia and capable of operating in temperatures down to minus 50 degrees, Kapitan Khlebnikov is engineered to crush ice 3 meters thick. Her blueprint allows freedom of manoeuvre venturing into seldom seen and visited areas; she is the only ship operating in the Antarctic with this flexibility. For 29 days she is home.
Ushuaia is the most southern city in the world, departure point for the Polar Regions. Rainbow dappled houses patchwork the shoreline, snow dusted foothills heave from the sea, mountains spire towards the clouds; air chilled, clean and fresh drizzles from the heavens.
The geological and meteorology features of the Antarctic are not unique; ice, snow, water, sea, mountains, rocks, air, wind, sky. What defines the Antarctic is the amalgamation of these elements, the compass points they saturate and the limitless horizons they occupy. There are no familiar constraints, no town plans, no fences to restrict or define space, no states or territorities, it is a shock to see so much emptiness; the landscapes classify the areas and divisions of the Antarctic.
Neko Harbour is the first polar landing on the continent of Antarctica; the minute is supercharged, eagerness and exhilaration abound. Zodiacs motor through the watery serpentine. Nimbly gazing around snow is everywhere; sprinkled onto entire mountainsides, bedrock exposed only where the load is too much and the lion's share has fallen into the deep navy water. Glaciers, crevasses and faults are ubiquitous, ice blue they twinkle in the sunshine. Ice shifting “Antarctic thunder” avalanches break the silences, the reverberation resonates, surges ripple across the water. Countless shades of blue water, ice and sky overtake your psyche; one feels’ pint size in this magnificent picturesque opulence.
Port Lockroy initially a British Station known, as Base A is now a museum administered by the UK Antarctic Heritage Trust. Bransfield House has been restored and houses the museum, shop and post office. Three BAS staff live at Port Lockroy in the summer to maintain the historic site and play postman. Across the way at Jungla Point, the beach is littered with bleached whalebones revealing a tale of woe and slaughter. It is hard to imagine anything gruesome happening here. Perfect weather, no clouds, no breeze; we wander without parkas or gloves, like a summer’s day. Almost transparent visibility through the water is 20 metres. Just before the algal bloom you can see into the centre of the earth. The bloom is a month away; then the water becomes a murky pale brown.
On Peterman’s Island 3 scientists are doing field research. Due to the gorgeous weather they had gone to visit a neighbour for what is probably a much-appreciated shower. Their tenancy is 3 small yellow tents and a mess cum laboratory tent. Nearby a large cross on a small raised mound is a memorial to 3 compatriots who lost their lives on a field trip, a reminder never to take this environment for granted. You must be self-reliant as help is not around the corner.
To park overnight at Marguerite Bay in Crystal Sound the KK is garaged in the fast ice (ice attached to land). The ship is driven into the ice and wedged perpendicular to the sea; the ocean floor is far too deep for the anchor chain.
In the midst of exclamations and awe our zippy helicopter flew across the fast ice, past tabular icebergs to Stonington Island where a glacier ran along one entire wall of the valley. Jagged edges, icy facade and fastidious detail ascend from the whiteout base of the valley. Juxtaposition, colossal and haunting, the diffused light show charmed your senses; pastel blue frescoes with watercolour pink brushstrokes like cotton candy feathered the upper vestiges of the glacier. Sitting awestruck on a frozen ledge probing left to right, every glance awarded new details, new shapes and colour deviations.
The glacier is mesmerising, elysian; virtual reality inside a glossy travel photograph. A superb souvenir; nature is bewitching. John Muir said “to dine with a glacier on a sunny day is a glorious thing and makes feasts of meat and wine ridiculous. Glaciers eat hills and drink sunbeams”.
Leaving the glacier with the sun shimmering and the ice sparkling, rich golden tinted light captured the last rays until midnight. This landscape is a perpetual installation.
You begin to understand the logistics of this expedition, the icebreaker, helicopters and zodiacs; the Antarctic is a wilderness. The scene from the bridge is a spectacle of geography stretching to the end of the world - we are at the end of the world. Several seals and penguins inhabit the shifting ice in the middle of nowhere; the Ross Sea is 450 kilometres to the SW and the nearest land is 250 kilometres to the west. What are these animals doing out here?
Ross Ice Shelf looms ahead, at 800 kilometres long, 30 meters above water and 200 below, reaching 500 kilometres into the Ross Sea, covering an area larger than France it is HUGE. Travelling along its length will be a two day journey if the ice is kind. For an intimate encounter we sailed to within 100 meters of the immense vertical cliffs; white walls straight up channelled by the elements, like plant roots, hundreds of fractured veins allow light to enter the dense spaces. Ice edges reflect the ocean and sky pigmentations while the uplift is reminiscent of a 50’s crew cut hairstyle.
Helicopters fire up for a flight to the Ross Shelf, group two board now. Near the landing site the advance team arranged champagne in the ice, perfect!!!! glasses poured. Instructions suggested if you follow the red marker flags to the edge of the shelf there is a treat. While Tony was reconnoitring a crevasse opened. “Line up, line up” like the age old circus chant, word passed quickly around “for your viewing, an ice crevasse encounter, hurry…. hurry…. closing soon ”. The gap is half a meter wide exuding adventure. Viewed from a prone position roped to a safety line, inching over the edge it went down forever, a labyrinth of shades pale icy blue graduating to rich deep icy sapphire blue. From the minute I got off the helicopter to the edge of the shelf, stumbling knee high in the fresh snow, I giggled to myself. “Travel Utopia”, what delicious fun. It also underscored how insignificant we “Mortals” are. We look like dust particles in this vast icescape.
Wake up at 0630 is not good news. 23 kilometres from McMurdo Sound but the wind is 34 knots and the helicopters are rated at 17 knots. Plan B, we helicopter into the desolate arid Dry Valleys.
One of the most extreme ecosystems in the world, the Dry Valleys are virtually free from ice and snow all year around. The inhospitable bronzed terrain has been stripped raw by the devilish katabatic winds that race across the basins. Life forms are limited to lichens and algae as evaporation exceeds precipitation. Curiously there are 3 petrified seals in the valley, lost, 50 miles from the ocean. An unearthly karma dominates the area. NASA utilised the region as a simulator for the surface of Mars.
Mount Erebus is in the near distance, an active volcano currently at rest. Small wisps of vapour rise and nestle on top, melting into the breeze, which leisurely stirs them. In the clear sky the wreckage of the DC10 tourist flight NZ flight 901, which crashed in 1979 is visible.
Transfer to Shackleton’s Hut at Cape Royds is by helicopter. Built in 1907 for his Nimrod Expedition that included an attempt to reach the South Pole. It is a short distance to Scott’s hut at Cape Evans established in 1911. Though the legendary explorers have passed on both huts are linked not only through inspirational feats of exploration and scientific achievement but endurance and tragedy. Restoration work is saving these priceless monuments.
At Cape Royds one of the hut restorers a young muscular smiling New Zealander enjoyed the summer temperatures in a T-shirt, chitchatting about the work being undertaken. On parting he said “Thank You for dropping by”. Not quite the reply I was expecting. Only 2,000 tourists a year visit this region and not all are able to visit the hut.
The NZ authorities insist that a member of the Antarctic Historical Trust travels with each group to ensure the huts integrity is maintained and strictly controlled, Great Job!! At Shackleton’s hut, only 40 people are allowed on the site and 7 people are permitted to be in the hut at any one time.
Shackleton’s hut is a blanched prefabricated dwelling, 15 men originally slept in it. The interior is dim with a rustic ambience; they say, “there are friendly ghosts there”. You cannot smell the smoke nor feel the fires’ warmth; but you can envisage an era filled with dreams; explorations part planned, part executed. Human touches, tins of food, clothing still hung and arranged for the next wear, bunks ready for sleeping; all enshrined. Hopes and goals imbedded in the walls, linger in the air. It would have been perfect to have a quiet minute alone, but not to be, the queue is waiting.
Scott’s Hut at Cape Evans is also being restored with 85 tons of ice being dug out to gain access. In the hut and nearby stables sadness lingers; the table is set, waiting for the explorers to return. From the hilltop you can see the valley Scott travelled up on his ill-fated expedition to be the first to reach the South Pole, 800 kilometres away.
Beyond the huts there is genuine isolation; a one kilometre wide gaping featureless diorama bordered by mountains and glaciers, the vastness is confronting. Random blotches of russet gravel splattered near the huts are the only tonal variation in the endless white on white panorama.
Early summer and the sea is only 5 kilometres away. In high summer the ice melts and the whole valley is liquid; in winter it is 500 kilometres across fast ice to open water. Entertain the feelings of seclusion, waving your supply ship goodbye conscious a frigid nocturnal season is ahead of you.
Overwhelming silence is deafening, so quiet to be audible. Antarctica is its own timekeeper; things are done at its tempo not yours. The assemblage of restored huts, the stillness, the scale is jaw-dropping. I gaze to the horizon, seeking nothing but to be part of this place. Tranquillity is broken by the thump of the helicopter; my icebreaker awaits.
Fridtjof Nansen philosophised: “Most people might be oppressed by such surroundings with its silence and inhuman expanses. But he who seeks peace and quiet in nature, undisturbed by human activity.... will find here what he seeks…even though, beset by ice, one is a plaything of the forces of nature”.
Evening and dinner comes, the sun is continually present, there is no night it merely brushes the horizon and rises again. After dinner, there was gluhwein on the forward deck, everyone rugged up, a farewell to the Antarctic. Cheers, laughter and faraway looks to a world that has delighted, amazed and absorbed us for weeks. We have 2 more stops to make but they are in the sub-Antarctic and are not the same. The sea birds soaring and diving around us herald our return to the northern latitudes.
On Campbell Island, views down the valley to the sea offered splashes of blue among the flinty coloured tufted swaying meadows, sprinkled with sunbeam yellow flashes hedged by green textures. You must be watchful of the path as there are soft boggy patches to ensnare the careless. The only misadventure I suffered was a minor fall into the bog; a loss of dignity, a brush down of my trousers and I was on my way.
Back in the southern seas, the ocean’s rock and roll has returned with a vengeance. Everyone moves with one hand on the rail trying to find the ships rhythm. Getting about has the appearance of an inebriated swagger with the body listing from side to side; an awkward jig.
How quickly we have left the Antarctic. White and blue iceberg blocks that sparkled in the sunlight are replaced with hills hosting grass and foliage. The sea’s blackness is replaced by soft royal blue fringed with white caps; this transition occurred within 2 days of travelling north. Daylight has given back the night, light now rules the cycles of life.
Enderby Island is a wildlife paradise, 5 kilometres long by 3 kilometres wide landing is at a small research station, backed by a tangled rata forest. Overcast and 11°C does not feel warm; wind gusting and waves frothing, its important to dress warmly.
The Rata Forest is tranquil and sheltered with a maze of snow gum coloured tree trunks through which you must pick a path, all the while the wind is howling through the upper branches. Walking through the forest and the protected lower reaches, we were serenaded by a sweet melody; their movements secretive, the birds were small and fast.
Out of the forest and up the hill into gale force winds roaring in from the ocean, unchecked by hindrances. The weather is miserable, the sky is overcast and rain is visible in the distance and still the wind gusts.
Leaving the Sub-Antarctic Islands we head towards home and family, the adventure over but the memories will last forever.
I trust you have enjoyed Part 2 of the Ultimate Adventure and found the landscapes marvellous. Part 3 will introduce the wildlife of the Antarctic to thrill and delight You.
Author: Jan Thompson
e-mail: jan@pcandjt.com
Web Site: www.pcandjt.com
posted by PC and JT at 3:26 pm
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