(Note: Antarctica was always one of those places at the back of my mind, its visit largely delayed due to the cost of getting there. However, Hurtigruten’s prices were competitive and now I can only say that no one can say they have truly travelled until they have seen this vast wonderful continent. And what a time to go: what will post corona virus cruising look like? Who will trust the air conditioning of an interior cabin or the ship’s buffet now? How do you socially distance on a Zodiac?) 

Antarctica had no human history before Captain Cook’s arrival in 1773, but ever since, its icy wastes have attracted whalers, explorers and now tourists. The coldest.., the driest…, the windiest…: there are so many superlatives to describe Antarctica. We joined a Hurtigruten cruise to visit this mythical continent at the bottom of the world. 

The Antarctic continent is broadly spoken of as everything below 60 degrees south, but can also be defined by the Antarctic Convergence, the bio-geographical boundary where the cold waters of Antarctica slide under the warm water coming from the north, a hugely important source of krill for the animal and bird life of the country.

Twice the size of Australia, with 14 million square kilometres of land mass, 98 % of it is covered in ice up to 4 km thick. Despite this it is technically a desert as it receives less than 254 mm of rainfall a year – in fact only 166 mm falls annually. However it also holds 70 % of the world’s fresh water and if the ice were to melt, sea levels would rise 60 m. As it is so cold, there are only two flowering plants and no terrestrial animals – those that you see are supported by the sea.

Our 19 day Hurtigruten cruise advertised itself as Christmas with Penguins, spending its voyage in the Antarctic Peninsula, a jutting piece of land to the north west of the continent, and only two days sailing from Ushuaia at the southernmost tip of Argentina. The weather is a little kinder there than on the mass of mainland Antarctica with summer temperatures averaging between 0 – 5 degrees. Nowadays, it is actually one of the fastest warming places on the planet which is a cause of great concern.

DAY ONE

Buenos Aires

We joined our tour in Buenos Aires, Argentina, at the Sofitel Hotel in Recoleta. Check in wasn’t until 3 pm and we did nothing more than sign in, so we had plenty of time for a little sightseeing. Plaza San Martin with its great banyan trees was only 10 minutes walk down the road, though sadly the lovely lilac jacarandas were nearly over.

Just across the road is Cementerio de la  Recoleta, a vast assortment of intricate mausoleums, one of which houses Eva Peron. We spent a pleasant couple of hours meandering up and down the rows, peering into dilapidated tombs and trying to decipher the owners names.  The La Biela Cafe under a giant banyan tree opposite the cemetery is a Buenos Aires institution – grab an outside table for maximum people watching.

DAY TWO

Ushuaia

Luckily we were on the 8.45 am aeroplane to Ushuaia so were able to have a more leisurely start and hijack the proper hotel breakfast buffet rather than the meagre affair laid on on for the first floor for those unfortunates whose flight was at 5 am!

We flew in over the beautiful mountains to the west of the town, their jagged peaks piebald with snow. It was invigorating to breathe the fresh southern air and see the beautiful Beagle Channel again. There is a unique clairity to the light which coupled with the serene glassy waters on a good day is absolutely magical.

Our bus showed us a lookout point briefly then we went slowly down the main street. It was almost 2 years to the day since we had last visited – I had adored the pristine scenery of the Beagle Channel, along with Parque Nacional Tierra del Fuego and the old settlement of Estancia Harberton and was only sorry we could not spend more time there on this occasion, but sadly there is no flexibility with charter flights.

“Are you going to tell us about the Falklands war?”  An American lady asked from the front seat of the bus. 

The guide looked rather uncomfortable and muttered “It was a long time ago…”

“Ah, you’ve forgiven each other! That’s so nice: you are friends again!”

I could see him grit his teeth inwardly. At the time we were parked opposite a giant painted mural which read in Spanish: ‘The Malvinas are and will be Argentinian’ and another which stated: ‘Ushuaia, capital of the Malvinas’. Much like the Irish, the Argentinians will never forgive or forget, to the extent that the English translation on the Malvinas memorial further along the bay is labelled as ‘American’!

Oh good, I thought, we have an idiot on board!

We managed a little time in town in between a rather tedious check in procedure, sufficient to visit the Tourist Office for an Ushuaia stamp in our passports; on our previous visit there had been a range of choices, but now they only offered one. We signed out with all our friends on their free wifi and manged to visit the main street for decadent chocolate churros, made doubly so by dolce de leche stuffing.

Clutching a stock of wine for the voyage, we returned to our ship, tethered closely with another three Antarctic ships. We admired Le Boreal, whose huge dual double exhausts on the roof pointed at the sky like a missile launcher – suitably French! Her officers came out on the bridge as she slipped away at 7 pm with a trio of blasts on her horn.

Two hours late, we followed at 9 pm, which was rather annoying as I had wanted to enjoy the Beagle Channel in the daylight. There was some trouble closing an hydraulic door on the side.

‘Typical’. I thought. ‘We have to get the ship that breaks down!’

So by the time we were slipping past some of my favourite campsites in South America it was near dusk. Puerto Williams on Isla Navarino was lit up gaily but otherwise invisible and there was little chance of following our Dientes de Navarino walk in the dark. But there were other delights ahead: we were headed to Antarctica! We did a last turn of the deck and headed off to bed before we reached the notorious Drake Passage.

DAY THREE

The Drake Passage

The Drake Passage enjoys a fearsome reputation. Named after Sir Francis Drake, an early British privateer, this two day Southern Ocean crossing between Ushuaia in Argentina and the Antarctic Peninsula is very exposed as there is no land mass to interrupt the eastwards advance of the Antarctic Circumpolar Current. However, only 1 in 8 crossings have really bad weather, so fingers were crossed!

However we enjoyed fairly comfortable cruising in the morning and began to notice the sea birds that followed the vessel, including the great Black-Browed Albatross, with a wingspan of over three metres. These only land to breed and as they can live up to 50 years, they are well acquainted with the southern oceans. Little Cape Petrels were also abundant, with their chocolate and snowy wings.

It became rather rougher in the afternoon with 4 or 5 metre swells and 40 knot winds and I dosed myself with seasickness tablets just in case and survived with no problems. It was actually quite a busy day as we had mandatory talks on how to use the Zodiac landing craft, emergency procedures and kayaking. The ungainly black Muck boots were issued for our landings and we were told of the strict landing and hygiene protocols in place for the continent. 

The protection of Antarctica falls under the Antarctic Treaty of 1959 which promotes science and peace  and there are also strict protocols in place as to how the tourism boats operate. Presently there are some 38 boats operating in the area, but many more are on line. 

DAY FOUR

Arktowski Polish Research Station

After a choppy morning, suddenly the wind dropped as we approached the South Shetland Islands.  It was rather like one of those Christmas cards where you press a robin: suddenly the sea was a rippling silver mirror; we saw our first iceberg, penguins porpoised through the waves and whales blew nearby. Islands appeared with great glaciers overhanging the sea and seabirds swooped and glided around us – it was a great introduction to Antarctica.

We passed between Robert and Nelson Island on the Nelson Strait, swinging around the latter to reach King George Island. Our resident historian was very American:

“Ah gee,” she said. “I just call it King George Island, I don’t know which one!” Would it be that difficult to work it out?

 An early base for Norwegian whalers and American and British sealers, it now has eleven bases of various countries and is not quite the pristine wilderness one might imagine. We moored offshore of the Arktowski Polish Research Base, a ramshackle cluster of shipping containers and huts, for our first footsteps onto the world’s 7th continent.  A peek inside the main building showed quite a cosy homely living room in warm pine and we got our first Antarctic stamp in our passports.

We walked along pebble beaches strewn with bleached whale bones where the wildlife seemed to mix quite happily with the scientists. We were lucky enough to see all three species of penguins together: the white eyed Adelie, the red beaked Gentoo and the Chinstrap with its distinctive band. 

In recent years the population of the more adaptable Gentoo has risen 245 % whilst the Adelie and Chinstrap have declined 40 % and 70 % respectively. Their main diet is krill, a five centimetre shrimp like organism which eats phytoplankton and is found in dense swarms, living to be about eleven years old. It is now threatened by overfishing, as it is a good source of fish farm food and health supplements. In 2008, it was estimated that 89.9% of fish are over-exploited; as fish farming expands, so the pressure on krill increases.

 Back on deck, suddenly it was snowing, our footprints standing out starkly. The Polish base disappeared in the swirling haze, their little lighthouse looking rather overwhelmed. It seemed to be perfect jacuzzi weather so we immersed ourselves and watched the land slip past as we headed back out to the open sea and south west along the Islands. 

A weak sunset slipped away at about 11 pm: it would rise again at about 3 am. There was no darkness as one knows it, just an ethereal silver light like an old gelatin print.

DAY FIVE

Yankee Bay

We crossed the Bransfield Strait on a smooth and glassy sea with 3 degrees temperature and no wind; it was all incredibly still and peaceful. Yankee Bay on Greenwich Island is sheltered by a huge curving shingle spit of glacial moraine and it is still surrounded by sheer glaciers.  It was another sealing spot and the remains of a tripod still stand by the shore, used for rendering the seals. After three years in the area, the sealers had exhausted the supply and moved onto South Georgia.

We meandered amongst the gentoo penguins who have a huge and scattered colony on the little hills behind the beach. Seemingly unbothered by us, they carried on as normal; they were especially amusing to watch jumping on and off the little icebergs, washing themselves vigorously in the clear water.

The elephant seals basking on the beach didn’t even bother to move; only a tail flicked occasionally. We wandered down to the tip of the shingle, another penguin playground, investigating seal and penguin carcasses. A skua sat tightly on a nest. We wove between cones or came to a stop at crossed flags and one wondered if this amount of signage were really needed.

In the afternoon we went cruising in one of the Zodiacs.  Our driver was asked: “

“What do you do in the Antarctic winter?”

“Arctic summer – I’m bi-polar!’

Wondering at the political correctness of his reply, I asked him which he preferred and he hesitated for a second and then came up with “Antarctcica”

When I asked why, he replied,”Because Antarctica is where my heart is – and you can die in a nano second out here.”

I thought he must be some gung ho American but Simon later pointed out that he was just some dumb-ass Australian.

Our cruise headed out to a beach with the usual somnambulant sea lions and more penguins. We saw some Snowy Sheathbills – they are the only non-aquatic birds on the continent and do a good job of hoovering up the penguin poo which contains a large quantity of undigested matter: funny how there is a job for everyone! Apparently the British Antarctic Survey once called them ‘shit chickens’!

Back on the ship, we were entertained by humpback whales which cavorted in the waters around us. 200,000 of them were killed by whaling, but now it is thought the population has bounced back to near 90% of pre whaling days levels, helped by the females being capable of having a calf every year and at an earlier age than other whales. Annoyingly, one doesn’t get to see much more than their backs, a languid tail or a white flipper – which alone can be 15 metres long. However they were close enough that we could hear them breathing as they exhaled and the sheer mass of their bodies moving through the water was impressive.

I went out to watch sunset at 11 pm and ended up staying out for about an hour, too enthralled to move. A shimmering impressionistic painting of molten silver and pinks, unending ocean and sky as one, the colour and light quite ethereal, with just an iceberg or occasional passing whale to break up the monotony. It was quite simply one of the most magnificent sunsets I have ever seen.

DAY SIX

Brown Bluff

We arrived at Brown Bluff on Greenwich Island at about 8 am but were disappointed to find that a strong wind had blown a lot of ice onto the beach so we weren’t able to land. Instead we were sent out in the Zodiacs for a wander round the icebergs which were scattered in the bay. We came back better educated regarding the various shapes and sizes: small bits are called brash ice, next up are growlers, which are about watermelon size, and then bergy bits. Only ice reaching 4 or 5 metres above the water is called an iceberg. Some have vivid blue hues, which is the most compressed purest ice.

After lunch our ship edged carefully out into open water again, blowing the icebergs away with its thrusters. We spent the afternoon cruising down to see the world’s biggest iceberg: A68A, which broke off the Larson Ice Shelf in 2017. At 5,800 square kilometres it is the size of Delaware and the visible face is 80 metres high – as only an estimated 17 % of an ice shelf shows above the water, one can only imagine how much is underneath. Global warming in action!

DAY SEVEN

Puerto Moro (Base Esperanza)

The Argentinians established Base Esperanza in 1953 and it houses about 64 people. There are 30 countries operating some 80 bases on Antarctica, holding around 4000 people, though only about 1000 of them are hardy enough to sit out the winter.

In the race for a claim on the continent, the Chileans and the Argentinians have long been in competition. Chile started off by having a marriage, so in 1979 Argentina decided to go one further and have a baby born on Antarctica: to date there have been 8 children born at Base Esperanza. The hill above the base is littered with stark memorial crosses: maybe the women who died for the fatherland!  I was told that the children are entitled to claim citizenship from any country they like in Antarctica, which seems a bit bizarre.

From the sea it is a fairly jolly looking base, with scattered orange houses with black roofs. High mountains rise behind, steep enough to be bare of snow on their sheer sides and glaciers run down to the sea in between. Antarticia is a study in monochrome so the houses really catch the eye. Originally it was a British base and there are a couple of older graves left from that time on a far off hillside with their crosses just visible.

It turned out to be a reciprocal visit; the captain and some of his staff came on board the ship for lunch and tucked into the lunch buffet. As they only get resupplied once a year, this was quite a treat.  I asked one what they ate on the base:

“Meat, meat and more meat!,” he groaned as he headed for the fruit selection. They were sent back to the base with fresh eggs and milk – Antarctica isn’t a place to run out of milk, though I think they still had the powdered variety!

Our first continental landfall! We visited the little museum, the chapel and the school where they sat us down and answered any questions we had. There were 14 children at school there; most people stay on the base for a year and this is a military one; Argentina has 14 bases in all, the biggest one being Marambio. which houses an air base and 200 people – and I thought Antarctica was supposed to be a neutral zone belonging to everyone.

The penguins neatly sidetracked us on the way back – there appeared to be a thriving Adelie colony, most of whom were happily sitting on their high rise pebble nests. The pebbles allow the snow to drain through the pebbles, so the chicks survive. We were lucky enough to see some very young ones, tiny and secure under their mother’s tummy. Adelies are one of only two true Antarctic penguins which spend all their time on the continent – the other been the more elusive Emperor – and they are rapidly losing ground to the more adaptable Gentoo.

A hut on the old jetty had a few minor souvenirs which I suspect were probably the Christmas beer fund. We bought a very overpriced badge for $10 but we also got a stamp in our passports.

Our kayaking was cancelled due to the fresh wind and for the first time we actually got wet when we went crusing in the Zodiac. The continent is known for its katabatic winds, which are formed when air moves down a slope. With its combination of mountain ranges and flat expanses, Antartica has recorded some of the fastest winds on earth: up to 320 km an hour.

DAY EIGHT

Deception Island – Pendulum Bay & Whalers Bay

Deception Island in the South Shetland Islands is an active volcano dating back about 750,000 years. Roughly 12 kilometres in diameter, it was so called because although it has the appearance of an island, it also has an inner flooded caldera, approached by a narrow passage. It was discovered by sealers and surveyed in 1820.  For many years there was a Chilean and then a Norwegian whaling operation on its beaches, and in more recent years the Argentines used it for R&R for their navy. Chile then established a research station and there was also a British one. However, both were destroyed by an eruption in 1967; no one was killed and the Chileans went over the hill to the nearby British base and all were evacuated from there. The British rebuilt their base but just two years later, in 1969, there was another eruption which destroyed it again, at which point they gave up. Now only the Argentines and the Spanish have a base on the island and their scientists monitor the volcano which is apparently safe – our guide described it as ‘resting’!

We had an early 6 am start to watch our boat negotiating the narrow strait into the island, called  Neptune’s Bellows. The place had a distinctive volcanic silhouette from afar and we sailed through into a peaceful caldera of smooth glossy water, about 9 kilometres long by 6 kilometres across. Some of the glaciers are black with ash from the explosions and many of the hills have a yellow sulphurous cast to them; in places there are vivid splashes of red volcanic rock.

Our landing took us to a sweeping black beach in Pendulum Bay, so called after onetime British experiments. It was made up of millions of tiny honeycombed pebbles; ash blew at every step as we walked through the light sand and stone. In the background was a twisted metal frame, all that remained of the Chilean research station.

We were not allowed to go beyond the freshwater glacial melt stream that descended at the far end of the beach, but as we wandered back we found some of the most cooperative penguins in Antarctica. Three pristine chinstraps, their fine facial line reminding me of Household Calvary guardsmen, obligingly posed for photos at the edge of the sea. One waddled up to me as I lay prone on the sand taking photos, and carried out a close inspection before deciding I was obviously of no importance and strolling off again. It was quite an enchanting encounter.

Simon was to have a close encounter of a more vigorous nature when he participated in the Polar Plunge, a dash from the beach into the waters of the bay – towels, bootees and doctor thoughtfully provided by the boat. We had witnessed the rising steam along the edge of the tideline as we had arrived that morning, and our guide assured us that the waters in the bay were warmer than elsewhere due to the ongoing volcanic activity. Nevertheless, I didn’t see anyone linger in the water, though Simon earned his certificate with a total immersion in water of about 2 degrees celsius!

In the afternoon, the boat moved up the caldera to Whalers Bay. Although defunct since 1931, there is a lot of rusty whaling machinery around: four great tanks used to store the oil, other unknown machinery, a great metal lump which was used as a dry dock, and some rather ramshackle houses. These were used by the British when they had their research station there, and they also built the big corrugated iron aircraft hangar to one end of the bay.

A pleasant walk along the beach and up a small hill bought us to Neptune’s Window, a narrow niche with a good sea view. En route we passed a couple of old wooden boats, slowly sinking into the sand, and lots of other crumbled wooden ruins amongst scattered whale bones.  It was quite an evocative spot.

DAY NINE

Neko Harbour

Neko Harbour is a glorious inlet on Andvord Bay on the west coast of Graham Land and is surrounded by mountains and glaciers to all sides. It was discovered by the Belgian Adrien de Gerlache in the early 20th century though it was actually named after a Scottish whaling boat that operated in the area between 1911 and 1924.

It was a brilliant sunny morning for our kayaking trip. Having tripped over the thing practicing on the ship, I was grateful that all went smoothly once we were on the water. In fact it was the usual Hurtigruten sanitized excursion: we paddled off gently and bobbed around quietly on the water for an hour and a half with a couple of gentle turns past some icebergs. But it was sufficient: Neko Harbour is very beautiful and it was enough to get a different perspective on the landscape, just to pause and hear the ice tinkle. The highlight was actually watching a couple of penguins fall off an iceberg and belly flop badly!

We then managed to squeeze onto a landing boat. The only tiny piece of beach in the area has been claimed by Gentoo penguins and they have a colony on some rocky outcrops that sit above the snow. They don’t make life easy for themselves, as these are 250 to 300 m above the beach and they have to hike up the hill to reach them. To facilitate this, they have penguin highways, great grooves in the surrounding snow which run from the beach to the nesting areas. 

I think they actually get up the hill better than most of our passengers who trod very gingerly up to the high point above the colony from where we enjoyed a beautiful view over the harbour, our ship resting amongst the scattered icebergs and bergy bits. Both penguins and humans looked fairly dodgy going downhill though the penguins were a bit more purposeful.

Due to the slowness of our ascent teams, which resembled the Everest bottleneck at times, our ship was late to move so a rapid recalculation was made and we sailed round the corner into Paradise Harbour. The Indian Ascent Team, who hadn’t looked at all at home on the snow earlier, now became the Indian Kayak Team but were no more successful. In the gathering breeze, a decision was made to abandon the kayaks and they all came home in a Zodiac, the kayaks ignominiously towed behind them.

However it was a dramatic area, with high dark peaks and deep glaciers, all now a study in griselle as the cloud moved in. Base Brown, another Argentinian station, sat on a nearby rocky edge, and of course Chile had one around the corner. Base Brown was once open all year round , but was burnt to the ground by a mad doctor when he was refused permission to leave and since then has been a summer only station.  Our cruising revealed several Weddell seals resting above the sea and a large cormorant colony with some kelp gulls and antarctic terns thrown in for good measure.

Our talk on the plan for the following day was followed by a biologist talking about the data collected from tagging whales. The devices are only suction caps so don’t stay on very long but they have managed to get all sorts of extraordinary things, including the heartbeat of a blue whale.

DAY TEN

Chiriguano Bay & Danco Island

Cruising in the morning revealed some dramatic glaciers, some even contorted with strata like separations, others revealed vibrant blue recesses.

There was a distinct lack of wild life but great excitement was caused by the Zodiac refusing to start after it was turned off for 5 minutes of silence so that we could listen to the ice. Our sister boat had to tow us back to the ship.

The weather had been pretty overcast in the morning and as we left the bay, we ended up in white out conditions with some swirling snow. However, by afternoon the sun was shining again over the spectacular scenery of Danco Island, which was another chartered by the Belgian Antarctic Expedition (1897-1899) under Adrien de Gerlache. It is 2 kilometres long and lies in the southern part of Errera Channel, hemmed in between the mainland and the much larger Ronge Island off the west coast of Graham Land

The inlet was surrounded by jagged mountains, some with spectacular hanging glaciers, and several large icebergs floated in the water. Danco, with a huge colony of Gentoo penguins was grubby with a network of penguins highways leading up its flanks to the scattered rookeries.

We ascended about half way up its height which gave us both a wonderful view of the inlet and the penguins making their way up and down the highways. The smarter ones knew to lie down and slide down on their tummies: they are not quite smart enough to work out a chute system for down with the highways for up! I don’t think anyone could ever grow tired of watching penguins as they are such amusing little characters in their pristine black and white garb, but the addition of ice does add a completely new dimension as it leads to all sorts of amusing slips and slides.

Two groups of kayakers got out and did a scenic circuit of the island and the photographers did some of their own cruising so everyone was happy except the campers, whose Amundsen Expedition to Danko Island that night was cancelled due to possibly strong winds the following morning. Unbelievably, someone had also complained that camping on an island versus the actual peninsula did not count as sleeping on the continent!

DAY ELEVEN

Wilheimina Bay, Orne Islands & St. George’s Point on Ronge Island

There was a German voice calling us to battle stations at 7 am: we were not only entering the beautiful surrounds of Wilheimina Bay but whales were beside the boat. People who were never normally seen in the fresh air emerged in various states of undress and crowded the decks. A humpback whale and her calf rose beneath us, her glossy black barnacle encrusted head briefly visible before she sank back into the depths. Humpbacks have a curious form of feeding called bubble nets: they swim in a circle trapping fish by their air bubbles, which we could clearly see rising on the surface.

Finally they wandered off and we headed on deeper into Wilheimina Bay, a gorgeous bay hemmed in with stark, ragged mountains to all sides with glaciers running down to the sea between them. There was lots of brash ice on the water and it was bitterly cold: although the mountains were partially enshrouded by clouds in a griselle palate, it was all still wonderfully atmospheric.

The ship backtracked to the tip of Ronge Island whose other side we had seen from Danco Island the previous day. Suddenly other boats emerged: Simon counted 7 in the bay today. Apparently there are 38 boats operating in Antarctica at present, but there are plans for a whole lot more. 

We fitted our cruising and landings in after lunch, once the Boreal had moved away from the Orne Islands, which lie just to the north of Ronge Island and were first surveyed in 1898. We went past the usual suspects: the beautiful icebergs, penguin rookeries and yet another sleeping seal. The later landing provided a brilliant seal sighting when I was sitting on the edge of the coast at a lookout point and a Weddell Seal popped up in the water immediately below my feet. He had unbelievably round limpid black eyes and a rather dog like face. Weddells are by far the most common seal in the area, but there is also the crabeater seal (which confusingly doesn’t eat crabs, but rather krill and the occasional fish) and the more ferocious leopard seal, which eats penguins.

When we attended the talk that evening on the following day’s activities, it emerged that we would not be visiting Port Lockroy, a British base which has the most southerly post office in the world. They only allow 350 visitors a day, and as our ship usually carried 500, it would not normally be eligible. As it turned out, we only had about 340 people on board, but the landing slots are given out about 6 months in advance and none of the other ships were interested in trading.

However, in a very pragmatic Norwegian solution, we were allowed to send postcards: dropped at reception, I presume someone was sent over with the bag.  The British Antarctic Territories stamps come in a set of five with cute penguin portraits. So note if your heart is set on Port Lockroy, choose a smaller ship!

DAY TWELVE

Damoy Point on Wiencke Island

Being a Norwegian ship, Hurtigruten celebrated the festivities on the 24th December, which also covered the Germans. Carol, our ship historian, gave a talk on previous Christmas’s in Antarctica where she contrasted the feast enjoyed by Scott on what would be his last Christmas in 1911 with the rather more frugal fare eaten by Amundson who had already reached the pole on December 14th . She was somewhat confused as to what exactly a ‘jugged hare’ was and we settled for ‘jack-rabbit’ as the nearest American equivalent!

Apparently Amundsen’s efficient crew actually put on weight on their South Pole expedition with their strategic food drops and three dog-teams while poor old Scott’s lot ended up starving to death. One interesting titbit: Amundsen cached food on his way to the pole at every degree which included dried fish for the huskies. He never had to remember where it was as the dogs could smell the fish and went straight to the drop.

On the research bases today, they quite often have a celebration on June 21st, amidst the long days of winter, rather than the white nights of summer. However, the Americans celebrate with a Race Round the World at their South Pole Amundsen Scott base. It laps the South Pole three times, so covering every time zone in about two miles and any vehicle is allowed.

Our landing on a gentle hill at Damoy Point was rather frustrating as we had a lovely snowy walk to a look out directly over Port Lockroy base which we could not visit! In the other direction, there were equally good views over the waters where our ship lay and just below two huts. One was a 1955 bright blue British hut which was used as a halfway supply depot when flying in the area: the runway was on the hill above. When it became redundant it was made into a small museum but unfortunately we were not allowed access: the penguins had discovered that it made a great nesting area, due to the snow melting quicker than on the surrounding hillsides, and at least two were sitting happily underneath with newly hatched chicks.

About one hundred feet away was another hut: an Argentinian refuge hut with everything within to survive a winter if stranded, including fuel oil – it was a pity they did not have those in Scott’s day!

So the Germans and the Norwegians sang carols on Christmas Eve and another very good Hurtigruten buffet was laid out with such delicacies as crispy pork belly, lamb ribs and halibut. The puddings were especially garish but the salted caramel toffee went down really well. Afterwards we went on deck, the boat sitting by the mouth of the little inlet to Port Lockroy amidst stunning scenery. As so often seems to happen in the evenings, the wind dropped and the water was almost mirror like, with just the faintest breeze ruffling its surface.

DAY THIRTEEN

Lemaire Channel & Cuverville Island

I thought it was a dolphin when I first saw it as it was quite small but it turned out to be a Minke whale. The water was so clear one could see it distinctly as it swam under the boat, a pale shape in the depths.

We were at the northernmost tip of the Lemaire Channel, the strait which sits between Kiev Peninsula on mainland Graham Land and Booth Island. It is one of the top tourist destinations as the 11 km long channel is hemmed in by steep cliffs and has lots of icebergs: at its narrowest point it is 1,600 m wide.

However, there was too much ice for us to proceed today and after our whale sighting we turned north again. It was an overcast day and an unbelievable palate of molten silver and greys. En route we had our first orca sighting which was pretty exciting, their unmistakable dorsal fins slicing through the water – the male’s can be nearly two metres high.

The ship backtracked to Cuverville Island, just off the eastern side of Ronge Island, where the rich krill water hosts a huge colony of penguins. Hurtigruten had kept their promise of Christmas with Penguins which was pretty cool and memorable – though our quokkas of last year on Rottnest Island in Western Australia, weren’t bad either!

It was certainly one of the more scenie of rookeries and a steep climb led us up the snowy hillside to a great lookout over the bay. There were some big icebergs and a distant rumble of cracking ice now and then. The beach was all pebbled and had some old whale bones scattered about.  I noticed some big dark rocks which looked rather out of place and later realised that they may have been meteorites – they are common in Antarctica as there is no-one around to pick them up, plus the glaciers have deposited them neatly.

Shackleton with Kenneth Brannagh was showning in our little cinema in the afternoon but cut off half way leaving us with a cliffhanger – I think it is going to end badly for the cat!

We were later disappointed to hear that the following day we would only be going out cruising in the morning then heading northwards towards the Drake Passage, ostensibly to avoid bad weather which was coming in. I had hoped to have a final landing as we still had three full days, but obviously it wasn’t going to happen.

Our Christmas dinner was turkey if you wanted it, or rib of beef which was more to our liking. Puddings were varied and very garish but showed a lot of originality. Afterwards, those who had elected for the Amundsen Experience – camping out on the ice – were ferried over to a piece of cold ground with tents and roll mats. As there was an extra charge of NOK3,500 for this, it all seemed rather mad. Thirty people: one of them was going to snore! An emergency portaloo accompanied them with strict instructions not to crap in it!

A rather grey day had turned into a gloriously sunny evening and lots of people came out on Deck 9 for a change, probably having suddenly realised that it was their last night in Antarctica and they had yet to leave the bar. We spent a lot of time on this deck: it had a wide open back so great 360 degree viewing, plus there were hot air vents around the central funnel area, so even on the coldest days we kept the chill at bay. We noticed that a pair of snowy sheathbills had had the same idea and seemed to have taken up residence on the ship!  

DAY FOURTEEN
Fournier Bay  

It was a feeding frenzy. As we watched a circle of bubbles appeared on the surface of the sea and the glossy black back of a humpback whale rose from the water. There was an explosive exhalation into the air, the tell tale ‘blow’ that once gave away the whale’s position to many a whaling boat.

Now however these creatures were peacefully feeding in the splendid Fournier Bay on Anvers Island, where David Attenborough had actually filmed  it. He caught all their heads coming out of the water at once which we didn’t see happen; our whales just lumbered round on the surface before disappearing again with a lazy flap of the tail. But there were a lot of them!

“12 o’ clock!” said Fred, our Zodiac driver.

“4 o’ clock!” he exclaimed a second later, then “7 o ‘clock!”

 He had his mobile phone in his hand and swung it from side to side as whales surfaced beside us: it was hard to know where to focus. For three quarters of a magical hour we watched the whales as they foraged around us, the seabirds following their bubble nets in anticipation. Apparently a boat is only allowed to stay with one group of whales for half an hour, but there were so many it was immaterial and when we finally turned for home, I think we were all satisfied with our final outing.

Fred too was exuberant and decided to give us a final spin round the boat, but the swell was quite large so he ducked under the towering prow, receiving a swift admonition from the bridge. Coming in too fast to dock, we were then all flung together in a heap.

“Oh shit!” he cried then laughed it off as a technical sailing term.

It was to be our last outing of the trip and by 5 o’ clock that day, all the Zodiacs had been packed away and the boat was under full steam ahead for Ushuaia. We sat on Deck 9 and watched Antarctica fade into the heavy clouds that sat just above the horizon. A final giant iceberg taunted us with its pristine white perfection, a slight uplift to its surface giving it the appearance of an aircraft carrier.

I lingered until even its brilliance was swallowed up by the cloud and Antarctica was once more just a mythical white land at the bottom of the world.

Some Notes on the Cruise

Hurtigruten

Sometimes I wonder if we had a great trip because of Hurtigruten or despite them! 

1). The staff. The ship had 140 staff on board, 90 of whom were Filipino. The latter do all the waiting on tables, cleaning and loading and some driving of the Zodiacs. I was amazed to learn that they work for 7 months without a day off, just breaks after breakfast and lunch. Their service was superb and they were always polite, happy and smiling. Tips at the end were discretionary: the ship suggests $10 a day per person, to be paid via credit card or envelope on the bar – I think they deserved every penny! Interestingly, they are not allowed to work in Norway as they don’t speak Norwegian!

The expedition crew were a mixed bag of young and old, most of them having some sort of science or expedition background. There was an excellent penguin expert, an Antarctic historian, and a German organiser with a very dry sense of humour: we never worked out whether it was intentional or not. Most did a reasonable enough job.

2). The ship. The Mindesol was a Norwegian ship from 2003. Everything was priced in Norwegian krone, which guaranteed you never knew how much anything was worth – at the time of writing it was about 8 to the US$.  There was a well stocked shop on board for all polar necessities, postcards and some nice Amundsen clothing. NOTE: There was 25 – 50 % off clothing on the last couple of days so don’t go wild on the first!

The public areas were excellent with great indoor and outdoor viewing. We loved the wide open spaces on the back of Deck 9 or Deck 6 which went all around the ship so there was a forward view too. Our cabin was on Deck 6 which was great as we could literally get out of bed and be straight on the deck. Inside, forward on 9 and 8 had very good viewing and everywhere there were big picture windows.

There are two big open air jacuzzis on Deck 9 which were great, except even they seemed to be a little below temperature when we really hit Antarctica. The small fitness room had weights, a bicycle and running machines with big picture windows.

Our return through the Drake Passage was very stormy: apparently we had hurricane winds and 30 m waves. It was unfortunately the a la carte night in the restaurant and dining was accompanied by the sound of breaking crockery: I felt very sorry for the staff, but it is to the ship’s credit that the ride was still sufficiently smooth for dinner. We got a certificate for the hurricane too!

3). The food. Superb! There were two nights where we sat down to a set menu but other than that it was a help-yourself buffet. There was a huge range of food, from great Argentinian meat to lots of smokey fishy things from Norway (bought over and stored in the hold), and even reindeer on occasion. There was no way anyone could complain about the quantity and variety of the food. Simon later claimed our trip was carbon neutral as we must have eaten a couple of cows in the restaurant!

Once in Antarctica, there was also an open air light lunch on Deck 9 which was popular with the Europeans – I think they thought they were skiing!

Alcohol and soft drinks were extra, though you could buy a package. There was a choice of water or sparkling water included free with each meal.

4). Accommodation. At the end of the day, the Mindesol is just a glorified car ferry designed for the Norwegian coastal run. Only a very few of the best suites had decent windows or a balcony. Most rooms only had small portholes and those on Deck 6 looked out over the walkway with people walking past. We were cheapskates and went for a windowless cabin which didn’t really matter to us as we spent most of the time on deck anyway. However, I have noticed that many of the Antarctic ships these days do have rooms with balconies so minus points there. The cabins are also fairly simple and small with ensuite shower room, though the water is always adequate and piping hot – they can desalinate 600 litres an hour on the ship. I also found that I felt quite stuffy in the mornings due to the lack of fresh air.

Another interesting fact: all the sewage on the boat is treated with ultraviolet light and a chemical to kill bacteria and then discharged gradually on the way back to Ushuaia (not in Antarctica). Funny to think that we were leaving a shit trail across the Southern Ocean!

5). The guests. I could mention that the Germans seem to have a tendency to be in first to bag the best window seats in the restaurant and they also never shut up in the Zodiacs! The ship can take 500 people on its Antarctic trips. Our trip only had 340 people onboard which was great and I am not sure I would have enjoyed it so much with the full complement. There was always lots of space on the ship and we never had to share a table in the restaurant.

The other problem would be coordinating the landings and Zodiac excursions. Generally we had one landing a day which would last usually about an hour and a cruise of 45 minutes. The landing times especially were quite tight and one definitely would not want less time: they would have to be very organised to run 500 people smoothly, which they were not always with our groups. On at least one occasion the cruising site was changed from that planned as landings were overrunning.

The photographers said that the cruising modules they did were fairly simple and coincided with ours when they should have been alone. The weather only allowed 7 groups of 12 kayakers out, so book ahead if you want a definite space – all the other activities were booked on the boat and there was a lottery system, so nothing was guaranteed. The guests for camping on the ice left to set up at 9 pm and were awoken at 5.30 am. There was a closely packed group of 17 tents and an emergency loo for widdling – only you can tell if you want to pay £300+ for the experience!  There is no guarantee that the extra activities will be available due to lottery system.

One of Hurtigruten’s major selling points is that they have no single supplement, which can be a huge saving on such a cruise, so there were quite a few single people, generally of the rather older variety. It is interesting who actually ends up on these things: we had a lively gang of eight Indians from Hyderabad, a gaggle of Asians and way too many Germans, as well as the usual English, Australian and French.

6). The Extras. There were some nice touches along the way: the certificates doled out for the polar plunge, completing the cruise or surviving a hurricane on our way home. At the end of the trip at dinner one night we were given prosecco and proceeded to clink glasses with a long line of bridge staff and expedition staff – all of whom then had to put their glasses back as there is a strict no alcohol on board ship policy!

We had special menus for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, carols were organised and Santa even turned up for the children (thankfully few of those on board!). I would add that the dress code was informal throughout.

7). The Niggles. Lack of information was one bugbear as we were only told the plan for the following day the evening before and that often changed. The lectures were somewhat unsynchronised with what was actually happening and some became dangerously tedious due to the presenter’s lack of working English.

There was some disorganisation at times around the landings and cruisings and a vague feeling at the back of my mind that they could have been longer, but it is hard to find information on any ship’s website as to how long they actually allow on land or in cruising. 

We had a high number of people on board which ruled us out from some potential landings and made navigation of some areas, such as the Lemaire Channel, impossible early on in the season. We only had one landing a day too, presumably because of our numbers: we did actually have three landing sites within one kilometre of each other, so it is easy to see that it would be possible to fit in two landings a day with earlier starts or less people. However, ships carrying more than 200 people only have a choice of about 20 landing sites, so quite limited: a second trip with them could be quite repetitive.

CONCLUSION

Hurtigruten have three great things going for them: the price, the fact that they don’t have a single supplement and they are relatively stable in bad seas.  So if you are broke, single and suffer from seasickness, this is the trip for you!

Seriously, I think they are a great entry level cruise to Antarctica: the scenery is spectacular whichever ship you are on, the landings spots are great and  the cruising good on occasion. The comfort of the ship, the food and the Filipino staff were superb, the accommodation comfortable enough, and they were very good value

However, if I were ever to go back, I would consider a smaller ship and maybe look at the itinerary a little more closely, but for a first time visit, I was more than happy and overwhelmed with the beauty and variety of the continent.