We were jolted awake this morning by the tannoy: our expedition leader Lucho exhorting us to leave the warmth of our bunks for the freezing winds on deck. At 0630 eagle-eyed watchman Edgar had espied killer whales ahead. In no time folks in pajamas and polar jackets were manning the railings, for we had closed with a pod of type a killer whales, which are, literally, “killers of whales.” They specialize in hunting minke whales here in the northern channels of the Antarctic peninsula. At times we had them crisscrossing right under the bow, allowing time for all to take unrivalled photos of these, the most powerful predators in the ocean. They set off after a minke whale in the distance but after a brief chase it managed to escape. Meanwhile, a small humpback whale panic-stricken by their proximity, sought shelter next to our ship, turning repeatedly toward us for reassurance. And all this before breakfast!
Revitalized and now thoroughly awake, we were ready for a morning landing in Mikkelsen Harbour at the southern tip of Trinity Island. The wind was now even stiffer, and for a while we considered cancelling all landings. But when the going gets tough, Lindblad gets going—we have the finest Zodiac drivers and shore team this side of Alpha Centauri, and oblivious to a cutting wind and flying spray we managed to get all our guests ashore safely on the rocky island in the bay. All this heroism went unremarked by the local gentoo penguins, their downy chicks tucked tightly beneath their feathers as the adults brooded them calmly on their heaped stone nests. What serenity after the rowdy ruckus of the chinstrap colony yesterday on Deception Island! The gentoo is the most laid-back of all the brushtails, quietly impervious to the keen wind off the glacier behind which could freeze our bare fingers in minutes. No time to lose our gloves then, as folk jostled for portraits of these handsome birds. Patrolling brown skuas, relentless predators of stray eggs or weakly chicks, swept overhead. Our stalwart guests climbed the snow-covered hill and down to the beach beyond, littered with whale bones from the whale oil industry of a century ago. Thank heavens their reprieve allows us the glory of seeing live animals at sea today.
In the afternoon we found shelter on the mainland in Cierva Cove and took to the Zodiacs to explore calm waters littered with glacial ice: ahead of us was the wide, crumpled face of a giant glacier draining three icy inland valleys. Close by the ship we encountered a male leopard seal sprawled like Cleopatra across an ice floe. Unperturbed, it raised its head as we drifted closer, allowing us to see the long, flexible neck, huge foreflippers and its wicked, reptilian head. When it stalks penguin colonies it is a ruthless predator of lone birds returning to or leaving the shore, agile and swift in pursuit, a lethal mixture of snake and shark. Our day was complete with a tour among giant icebergs, under black volcanic cliffs and past glassy blue fragments of glacial ice, a still life of ice, water, snow, and cloud. Just as our fingers and feet were going numb, we were saved by a Pirate Zodiac dispensing hot chocolate and peppermint schnapps. Trust Lindblad to think of everything! Hot chocolate and frozen icebergs—bravo!
