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Published: January 2nd 2013
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We are awakened about 8 am by the captain's announcement that we have entered Neumayer Channel between Anvers Island and Wienke Island. (In the night, the ship has sailed past Brabant Island, if anyone is following on a map.) Vi and I scramble to get dressed and get outside to enjoy the scenery. It is stunning. We are bracketed by sheer black-and-white cliffs on both sides of the ship as we glide silently forward on tranquil waters. It's like being in church. We spot several groups of penguins on floating ice floes and the occasional seal lounging on the ice at the base of the cliffs. Our avian escorts are now mostly shags and skuas, the latter large vicious-looking birds that mostly prey on penguins.
The fog is moving in quite thickly, blotting out the shore, so we take the opportunity to have breakfast. About 11:00, the ship reaches Palmer Station, a US research station located on the southwest end of Anvers Island. A group of scientists tenders over to the ship in zodiacs, then the ship sails south again, heading for Lemaire Channel. We will cruise the length of Lemaire Channel and then return north. It's quite socked in
now and starting to snow, and we experience the thrill of seeing icebergs of all sizes and shapes suddenly emerge from the fog. Some have penguins on them.
The scientists from Palmer Station offer a presentation at 1:00. They describe the wide-ranging scientific work they are doing. One of the things I find impressive is the spirit of international cooperation that prevails in Antarctica, both formally and informally. As a closet entomologist, I am thrilled to learn that Antarctica has exactly one indigenous insect, the wingless Antarctic Springtail (Belgica Antarcticus), which interestingly at 3mm in length is the continent's largest land animal. Not only that, in larval form it can survive being frozen solid, submerged in sub-zero water for months, and completely desiccated.
While the presentation is underway, we have entered the Lemaire Channel, which runs southwest, paralleling the coast of the Antarctic Peninsula. It is formed from a flooded fault line and thus is a passage deep and narrow. The weather has cleared up beautifully, still overcast with flurries but clear to about a thousand feet. We spend about three hours outside, completely enraptured by the staggering beauty all around us: the towering cliffs of granite, the massive glaciers plunging into the sea, and the marvelously sculptured icebergs with their variegated hues of white, blue and green. It seems incredible that nature creates these masterpieces daily and that only rarely are human beings there to admire them.
Penguins on the floes are now so common that they are no longer a reason for comment. When the ship threatens to pass close to them, the penguins appear to form a committee to decide what they should do, flapping their wings and arguing whether they should just waddle to the far side of the berg or bother to jump in the water. But in the water they are so very graceful, popping out of the water like champagne corks as they porpoise close to the ship. We pass at least two penguin rookeries on shore, both gentoo, where with binoculars we can see hundreds of penguins. We also spot another humpback mother and calf, who seem completely indifferent to our presence, as well as a couple of different types of seals.
The captain takes us as far south as he dares. For the record, we reach S65° 11.5087', W64° 07.8677', near Petermann Island on the west and Mt. Shackleton on the mainland. The ship then turns around to retrace our steps northward. At the northern exit from Lemaire Channel, we are surprised by a French cruise ship, slightly smaller than ours, entering the channel from around a bend. There is a fast reverse of engines and we let the French ship enter. "Happy New Year" and "Bonne année" we call across the water to each other, waving madly.
We retreat to the Crow's Nest and enjoy the rest of the slightly less spectacular return trip. Showing perfect timing, the weather gradually closes in. Soon we can no longer see the shore, although we know we are still in a strait. By 8 pm we are back at Palmer Station, where our scientist guests depart by zodiac.
The evening's entertainment is a repeat performance by singer Lumiri Tubo, who wows us. Standing ovation.
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