A honeyed light followed us as we left the setting sun at Ushuaia, the town at the very bottom of Argentina, on the Quark Ocean Explorer, heading south to the Antarctic Peninsula. Standing on the open prow, the ship felt remarkably smooth and silent. Just above, our eyes took in the smooth glide of the albatrosses and the laborious flap of the cormorants. A large troupe of sea lions swam, wave-like, towards the fading pink hilly outcrops of the sheltering Beagle Channel. We had left the edge of our bustling map, and were about to cross the Drake Passage, the world’s roughest seas. Only yesterday, in the forests of Tiera del Fuego, I’d come across an expression of the Yaghan natives who once wandered here…Maia ku, for those who burn with spirit of exploration, the world doesn’t end here, it leads to new beginnings…
How apt was that, for all 138 of us passengers on the ship, as well as the lecturers and crew. We were kindred in our curiosity and appetite for adventure, and that’s what made it a great party right from the outset.
With four-metre-high waves at 58 knot winds at worst, our Drake Passage had been tad queasy but mild, and we were going to fly back. The brilliant presentations on penguins, seals, whales, geology, the stories of the adventurers of the Heroic Age and lessons on photography kept us riveted.
Lemaire Channel
Jarryd Salem
The bar thrummed and the chefs put out feasts fit for weddings. Piling on weight might be the only danger on this week-long expedition. It got cold, especially when windy and wet, but never miserably so. Throughout, the temperature hovered on the positive side of zero degrees C, and inside the ship it was always toasty. Crossing 60 degrees South, we were past the geographic and political line of Antarctica, a continent the size of Europe that doubles in the winter as the sea ice freezes around it. But this was late February, deep summer and Antarctica’s massive winter cape was off. And while the snow remains 1-3 miles thick on the continent, at the peninsula, the arm sticking up towards South America, where we were going to be cruising and landing via zodiacs, some of the islands were snow-free, with exposed granite, dolerite rocks. Many of them looked rather painterly, daubed in green and rust coloured mosses and lichens.
Some folks paddled out on kayaks and canoes, enjoying the silent proximity of Antarctica’s calm bays. A Polar Plunge was to come, for bravehearts up for experiencing Antarctic waters. The moment arrived when we donned our layers of gear (thankful for the boots lent and double-layer parka gifted by Quark) and zoomed on Zodiacs to the gently undulating Barrientos Island in the South Shetland Islands. Gentoo and chinstrap penguins busily went about their business, heading into the water or returning from it. Shaking dry, waddling over the rocky ground, crooning announcements, finding their partners and chicks, preening, picking fights, showing tenderness, exchanging news, and the wonder of it all was that we were right in their midst. While I was mindful of the mandatory 5-metre space between us, a friendly gentoo wasn’t, and it walked right up, looked me in the eye and croaked what distinctly felt like a hello, before gently walking on.
