Freelance writer Cynthia Boal Janssens and her husband, Chet,
sailed to Antarctica and the Falkland Islands on Lindblad
Expeditions' Caledonian Star in January. Their report follows:
PUNTA ARENAS, Chile -- One can never be quite sure of the time
in Antarctica.
With the long days of the austral summer only allowing for a
couple of hours of darkness each night, the strange other-worldly
quality of the light, the sky so clean and pure overhead and the
huge ice shapes at sea looming over you, your mind is always a bit
on tilt.
And isn't that how it should be when one is traveling to the
ends of the earth?
We certainly had an otherworldly feeling the night we sailed
through the Lemaire Channel.
This small pass, which cuts between mountains and glaciers, is
famous for its beauty, and we were not disappointed.
The beginning of the channel is marked with a pair of peaks that
are well-known hereabouts (dubbed by the sailors of yore as "Ula's
Teats"). They are tall, grand, appropriate guideposts.
The deck of the Caledonian Star was full that evening. Dinner
was over and it was nearly 9:30 p.m. This was bedtime most nights,
but we stayed up to see this famous channel and were immediately
confounded. The mouth of the channel was choked with ice; certainly
passage was impossible.
But we should have known better. Capt. Leig Skog, who has sailed
in Antarctica for almost 20 years, was at the helm. He slid the bow
forward and on we went, gently nudging aside small ice floes and
skirting around bigger icebergs, creating our own path in the
night.
It took more than an hour to work our way into the channel
proper, but the light was lovely and we were captivated by the sun
that ever so slowly dropped toward the shimmering horizon.
Cameras clicked and whirred, but the images would not totally
capture that mystical moment, nor could my words.
This was certainly a highlight of one of the most unusual trips
on our planet.
Antarctica may not be at the top of everyone's travel list.
After all, it is a continent of extremes -- the coldest, windiest,
highest and driest of all the earth's bodies. It can be forbidding
and deadly, particularly in the deep of winter. Little wonder it's
often referred to as the "Last Continent."
But Antarctica has another face -- a joyous face that presents
itself each summer when penguins and other birds come ashore by the
millions to lay eggs and raise their young during the few short
months allotted to them.
This is also the time when whales, seals and dolphins come to
the surface to frolic, and when people venture down in their
sailboats to spend the season.
Improbable as it seems, Antarctica is a fascinating place to
visit.
Bill Bingham of Naples, Fla., certainly thought so. This was his
third trip to Antarctica. He returned with his wife, Mary, so she
could experience what he's so often told her about. "I've always
thought that this was the most fascinating trip that I've ever
taken," he said.
For those of us on our first visit, however, it was a series of
adventures.
First, there was the process of getting there. We flew to Miami,
then overnight to Santiago, Chile. We took another five-hour flight
the next day to Punta Arenas, Chile's southern tip, before we
finally boarded the ship.
All of this was accomplished with almost no trouble, thanks to
arrangements made by Lindblad Expeditions.
No sooner were we aboard when we were told of a deviation in our
itinerary: Another small ship had damaged its propeller, forcing it
to cancel a trip. We were going to take on some of its
passengers.
To accomplish this, we sailed through the Beagle Channel to
Ushuaia, Argentina, where we boarded the ship's 54 passengers.
We now had 110 passengers aboard, but despite being chock-full,
everything went smoothly, save for some boisterous seas as we
passed Cape Horn.
The waters at Cape Horn can be very rough, and to get to
Antarctica you have to go past the cape and then head southwest
across Drake's Passage.
If you've seen an historical documentary showing the cape's
horrific roundings, let me assure you that our trip was much
calmer.
To be sure, the Caledonian Star is well-suited to this journey.
Fully stabilized and ice-reinforced, the vessel took the heavy seas
very well.
Our trip was relatively smooth -- which is not to say that there
were not some large swells that doomed some passengers to
seasickness on the first day and night.
As we neared the Antarctic Peninsula and calmer waters, everyone
was up and out on deck. After all, we all had something better to
do than lay a-moaning -- we had to see penguins.
And penguins we did see -- first by the hundreds, then by the
thousands and then by the hundreds of thousands. But no matter how
many times we encountered them, whether on snow, rock or sand, we
found them fascinating.
I never thought that I could so enjoy watching little
black-and-white birds by the hour. But their behavior was so
entertaining. They waddled. They argued with each other. They
flopped on their bellies to "toboggan" in the snow. They squawked
at anyone approaching their young and, when their mates returned
from feeding, they greeted them with an elaborate ritual of bobbing
and weaving and calling.
And, much like in the Galapagos Islands, they were unafraid of
humans. We encountered seven varieties of penguins on this trip and
soon learned to identify them.
Our seven days in Antarctica were spent mostly exploring the
islands around the Antarctic Peninsula, where the weather is most
temperate and the largest penguin rookeries are found.
Typically, we would have a "landing" each morning and each
afternoon. We'd bundle up in waterproof outerwear (each passenger
is given a red parka), wellies (rubber boots) and warm headgear and
climb into inflatable boats, which whisked us to shore.
Lindblad Expeditions must be complimented on how well it handles
these maneuvers. No time was wasted: As soon as we'd enter a
harbor, the Zodiacs would be dropped over the side with naturalists
on board who'd determine where passengers would land. By the time
the ship was anchored, the platform was down and ready for us to
disembark. Even in rough seas, the crew loaded people of all
abilities and ages in and out of these boats like pros. When the
landing areas were too rough for people with walking limitations,
the crew took them on Zodiac rides along the shore.
We also visited several research stations, most notably the
U.S.'s Palmer Station, where we were given a tour, and the
historical British station at Port Lockroy.
On sea days and between landings, the naturalists offered slide
presentations on all matter of subjects, and we never missed a
one.
They lectured about penguins, seals, whales, living and working
at Antarctic research stations and about polar explorers Raold
Amundsen and Otto Nordenskjold. They also broached more esoteric
topics, such as the supercontinent of Gondwanaland (which once
encompassed India, Australia, Africa, South America and Antarctica)
and the effects of global warming.
In the comfortable lounge, four large televisions broadcast
documentary videos such as "In the Freezer," narrated by David
Attenborough. Another video featured actual footage from the
ill-fated 1914 Antarctic expedition of Capt. Ernest Shackleton and
the Endurance, which became trapped in ice and was crushed,
stranding the crew for several months.
Caledonian Star's library was paneled in dark wood, with deep
chairs for curling up for a good read and shelves packed with
informative books.
By the end of the first week, we knew probably half the
passengers by name and were meeting more each day. One open seating
for dinner facilitated this kind of mixing.
The food was exceptional. The galley staff outdid themselves,
and we had truly gourmet meals throughout.
While much of our time was spent on deck gazing at the ice forms
around us, we did enjoy one outstanding and truly unique ice
experience.
As we were leaving Paradise Cove, where several of our more
energetic passengers had climbed to the top of a high hill and
"tobogganed" down on their bottoms, the captain discovered a
tabular iceberg with a large pond of turquoise fresh water on the
top of it. To provide everyone a close view, he nosed the bow of
the ship into the side of the berg, and we were able to take
pictures right off the bow.
From Antarctica, our ship returned via the Falkland Islands,
where it offloaded the added passengers.
We then spent another three days exploring this archipelago,
visiting the tidy town of Stanley and getting close to several
albatross rookeries.
We also met a number of families who live "at camp" -- which is
pretty much anywhere but Stanley. Most of the Falkland Islands are
owned and inhabited by one family.
On the trip back to our home, we retraced our flights. It had
been a comprehensive journey but not at all exhausting.
Not only had I set foot on my seventh continent, but I was able
to buy a dress for my granddaughter at a handcraft market in Chile.
I'd sipped tea and munched on scones in the kitchen of a home on
Carcass Island in the Falklands. And on Tierra del Fuego, we
visited the southernmost town on earth.