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Antarctica, the Falklands, and South Georgia

By : Nancy Golden
Trip Begins December 25, 2010
Trip Ends January 15, 2011

A trip beyond expectations, seven friends set out to cruise the southern seas.
See my photos : Antarctica, the Falklands, and South Georgia

Want to go? Ortelius: Antarctic Peninsula

I went to: Argentina, Ushuaia, Falkland Islands, Saunders Island, East Falkland Island, Stanley, Antarctica, South Georgia, Salisbury Plain, Grytviken, Scotica Sea, Gold Harbor, Drake Passage, Weddell Sea, Antarctic Polar Circle, Ross Sea, Amundsen Sea, Lemaire Channel, Half Moon Island, South Orkney Islands, Elephant Island, South Shetland Islands, King George Island, Antarctic Peninsula, Brown Bluff, Cuverville Island, Buenos Aires
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December 25, 2010
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Escape from New York

Buenos Aires, Argentina

I bid goodbye to the large extended family that had gathered at my sister's house for Christmas. And not a moment too soon. A storm was moving up the East Coast, canceling flights along its path. One thing I knew going into this trip: if you're not on the boat when it leaves....it still leaves. I had a 10:00 pm red-eye from New York and for once in my life had paid extra for the direct flight. I dozed off knowing it was worth every penny, as we pulled off the runway with no stops scheduled until Buenos Aires (and not in already snowed-in DC, Atlanta, etc.).

December 26, 2010
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Journey to the end of the earth

Ushuaia, Argentina

Unless you're extremely lucky (or an advance-planner....not my particular forte), the journey to Ushuaia involves not only changing planes in Buenos Aires, but often changing airports. Though I left NY alone, I'd ultimately meet up with 6 other friends who all signed up to join me on an extravagant 40th birthday adventure. And so it was with both a sense of relief and joy that I walked through the doors to baggage claim at Airport #1 to find Erin waiting for me, fresh off her own journey from Oregon. (Relief in that without international cell phones, we really had no backup plan.) It took almost an hour to get across town to Airport #2, but along with a pitiful comprehension of Spanish, at least we now had each other. We ran into Mary Ann and Lynne at Airport #2 before heading off to our separate flights to Ushuaia, and then Brian and Linda at our hotel. Two days before our cruise, and 6 out of 7 were accounted for. I laid down for a much needed sleep at La Posada del Fin del Mundo: we had made it to the end of the earth, and things were off to a good start.

December 27, 2010
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Pre-cruisin': Tierra del Fuego

Ushuaia, Argentina

Arriving in Ushuaia without delay allows for a play day before cruising. Mary Ann and Lynn booked a day of adventure at the National Park, while Linda, Brian, Erin, and I planned for a hike up the most gorgeous Martial Glacier. Gaston, our guide from Ushuaia Birdwatching, picked us up at our hotel, where he was promptly informed by Linda that if we did not see an Andean condor today, they would all see a grown woman cry. That grown woman being me, I was quite prepared to make good on that promise. (We also requested to see the elusive and secretive endemic ground dwelling white-bellied seed-snipe. We are a tough crowd.) The hike was spectacular and while there was no sign of the coveted seed-snipe, more importantly, there was no crying. In fact, after a very accommodating condor soared overhead and we all posed for pictures with our arms out making condor poses, I had already declared this to be the Greatest Vacation Ever. Which, it was pointed out to me, was a bold statement considering we were still on 'pre-cation'.

Later in the day, we hit downtown Ushuaia which, like many a city, consists mainly of two types of establishments: places to buy things and places to eat. We did a little of each, and along the way ran into our final companion, Anne. Anne had arrived safely that morning, but without a very important component of long-term travel to destinations that lack stores: her luggage. Remember that part about the boat leaving with or without you? It applies to luggage as well, unsympathetic to the fact that you've just spent the past few weeks assembling the perfect array of clothes and gear for your trip. With some hope of it still arriving, we decided it was too soon to reassemble her needs at the local Pata-gucci, and met up with Mary Ann and Lynn for our first dinner with the whole gang. It was likely at this time that we discovered our new favorite cerveza: the local Beagle Negra, brewed here in Ushuaia, along the Beagle Strait, where our boat would pick us up tomorrow. Beer once again proves to be the temporary solution to all of life's problems.

December 28, 2010
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All Aboard!

Ushuaia, Argentina

Today we would push off from dock and received some welcome news upon waking: Anne's luggage had made it to Buenos Aires and was likely to be on a morning flight to Ushuaia. This allowed us the freedom to spend our final half-day on land doing all-important last-minute knick-knack shopping, instead of trying to recreate her gear at the local over-priced outfitters. The overwhelming theme of the souvenir stores of Ushuaia is the penguin: you can get anything you might ever need or want emblazoned with this ubiquitous feathered friend. While fun at first, after the first row of stores we quickly found it to be a bit overkill, even for someone like myself: a girl with an admitted penguin fetish. More our speed was the local artisan market down by the water: jewelry, knitted items, carvings, etc. I bought 4 necklaces over 2 days and still regret not buying more. But then again, I also have a necklace fetish.

Anne's luggage arrived within an hour of boarding. Lesson #2 (after the blizzard) in arriving well in advance of departure.

And then we boarded the boat and it all started to sink in. My heart raced a bit as somewhere amidst the quick tour of the boat and the 'welcome aboard' happy hour, our ship pushed off from the dock. Standing on the top deck of our ship, we cruised down the Beagle Channel and spotted birds as they passed by, including our first penguins, Magellenics. And then soon enough we left the mainland behind. We were really going to Antarctica.

December 29, 2010
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At Sea: a Day aboard the Marina Svetaeva

Falkland Islands

'Variably queasy today' That's the main journal entry I have for our first full day aboard the Marina Svetaeva (recently renamed the Ortelius), a ship specifically designed for polar exploration with an ice-strengthened hull. To combat the nausea was a burgeoning underground drug trade worthy of the most infamous cartels: the patch, Dramamine, bonine, ginger, wrist bands, gum, and those meds the onboard doctor from Australia brought, rumored to be banned in the U.S.

As we experimented with better living through chemicals, we got to know our boat, its passengers, and her staff. The Marina Svetaeva holds a maximum of 100 passengers, a key factor in choosing our vessel, as it maximizes time off the ship at landing sites with 100-person limits. Our ship carried about 85 passengers and we'd get to know many of them over the next 19 days. But today it was the crew: expedition leader, naturalist, geologist, historian, photographer, outdoor guides, kayak instructor, doctor, hospitality specialist, bartender, masseur. These people had really thought of all of my needs! Plus those I didn't even realize I had (who knew I would need to get massages while crossing the Drake Passage? They did.) Plus our Russian-based captain and crew, cleaning and wait staff, with whom we'd pitifully try to communicate by learning one Russian word a day (though as in any language, 'spasibo' goes a long way).

Linda and Brian, and Mary Ann and Lynn each had doubles on the second deck, and Erin, Anne, and I shared a triple downstairs in what we affectionately referred to as 'steerage' (having your room double as a sauna for the first couple of days inspires many a creative jab). However, once the temperature stabilized, we actually found it to be quite roomy (for a boat), and it didn't hurt that the cost savings from booking a triple could be funneled directly into 'Retail Therapy' sessions at the gift shop. We began to take pride in being the (self-named) broads of Room 341.

The day rounded out with informational briefings and educational talks, birdwatching on the deck, and finally happy hour on the bridge. The Cocktail of the Day was the Drake Sunset. Which goes down even easier while watching whales surface off the side of the ship.

December 30, 2010
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And so it begins: Penguins of the Falklands

Saunders Island, Falkland Islands

Land ho, the Falkland Islands! Ten people to a zodiac, we departed the ship for our first excursion on West Point Island. Antarctica it was not. The green grass and sunny skies made us overdressed in the orange wetskin suits and rubber boots we wore for all of our wet landings. Nobody would mistake us for locals.

The 2 km hike was refreshing after a day or two at sea, but the payoff was even better. Just over the hill and around the bend lay a mixed colony of black-browed albatrosses and rockhopper penguins. With chicks, probably as young as two weeks. Swoon. If I appeared to be an easy target back at the distant condor sighting in Argentina, you can imagine that my heart almost stops just thinking about this, unable to bear the unperceivable cuteness of it all. Packed into grassy tussocks, we circled each group taking photos, reveling in our good fortune, and trying to keep our wits about us enough to maintain a respectable distance. And not hug the penguins. I must keep reminding myself not to hug the penguins.

If the colony was the reward for the hike in, the walk out resulted in a more conventional, albeit unexpected, prize. Upon return to our docking area, we found ourselves treated to the hospitality of the island's sole inhabitants, Lily and Roddy. Perfect British hosts, we drank tea out of dainty cups and saucers and quieted our grumbling stomachs with a spread of cakes and goodies. The lemon cakes were to die for. A stroll through their well-appointed gardens rounded out the visit, making a great morning even better.

Back on the boat, the captain ferried us off to our next location while we relived the morning through the instant gratification of digital photography and ate a proper lunch. And suddenly it was time to gear up and head again, having not yet come down from our prior face-to-face penguin/human meeting.

No hike in was needed for Saunders Beach, as penguins busily crossed our paths (clearly on their way to very important business) almost as soon as our boots hit land. The expansive sandy beach was completely unoccupied by humans, but full of life in the form of gentoo penguins, king penguis, rockhoppers, and magellanics. The braying gentoos formed noisy rookeries full of activity and we occasionally had to halt our travels temporarily to allow one or more to pass by with their jaunty waddle. The handful of kings were more sedentary and, well, I've gotta say it: regal. The rockhoppers performed their namesake rock-hopping, sometimes right into the water for a swim. And the magellanics were a kick peeking out of their burrows and made for an unexpected coupling with the sheep that grazed the grassy hillside. We hiked up hills and around bends and down to the shoreline and back again. The scenes were ever changing and hard to tear yourself away from if not for the expectation of missing something new on the next stop.

Back on the ship we were worn out! Sleep came fast and hard, refueling our weary bodies and racing minds for the next day's adventures.

December 31, 2010
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Ringing in the New Year in International Waters

Stanley, East Falkland Island

After yesterday's excursions to some of the Falklands least-inhabited destinations (by people, anyway), today's visit to Stanley provided a sharp contrast. Stanley is a small city of colorful houses, shops, museums, and war memorials. And the occasional tribute to Margaret Thatcher, who successfully defended Great Britain's turf here against the Argentinian invasion in 1982. We strolled around town at our own pace and patronized the shops selling wool items, and, of course, penguin-related gear. A favorite stop was the post office, where a wide selection artistic plates of stamps depicting the history and wildlife of the Falklands, South Georgia Island, and Antarctica made unique souvenirs.

Part of the group kayaked the waters around the island while us landlubbers hiked Gypsy Cove, an area where wildlife thrived due a particular problem with the real estate: old land mines from the war were still being found and detonated as recently as the previous year. Magellanic penguins, too light to trip the mines, burrowed in the grassy hills and fished off the beach, while humans watched them from a safe distance on the trail. And that rounded out our experience at the Falklands: two days of perfect weather and cooperative wildlife to tide us over for our journey through the Drake Passage to South Georgia Island.

But just to hedge my bets, I also scheduled myself a massage for that afternoon. Because when else am I going to get spa services in the Drake Passage? Holy wow. Two years later we still rank all massages against that one: ''He was good, but he was no Keith.''

To ring in the New Year, our gang of 7 gathered for dinner, a special feast prepared by the chef. The staff had planned ahead and dressed up and we followed suit as best we could, though often our version of fancy turned out to be ''clean!'' or ''not yet worn''. We hit the wine list hard, and managed to coax each other into staying up for the party in the lounge. As a group. we celebrated the many nationalities that were sharing this night together, with each performing an impromptu song that somehow represented their country of origin: Germany, Hong Kong, India, China, Japan, Russia, Australia, England, Canada, and the U.S.. There was some real talent on the ship. Which made the U.S.'s rendition of the Chicken Dance, in which I participated, even more pathetic. But the Canadians rounded out the night with comic relief, as they hummed the theme from the Canadian Broadcasting Company's hockey night broadcasts, led by Ian the Bartender. A trip to the bridge to see the Southern Cross, a champagne toast, and dancing into the wee hours of the morning rounded out the evening. It was a New Year's Eve unlike any I'm likely to experience again.

January 1, 2011
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The Best Remedy for Sea Sickness

Scotica Sea, Antarctica

Or was it a hangover? The lines are blurry. But like many a New Year's Day, we spent this one doing varied and sundry nap-related activities. Like napping. A great remedy for whatever ails you. And not the worst way to pass a day at sea.

In between the naps (did I mention the naps?) we'd visit the lounge or` the dining room for one of the various educational lectures. Today we had talks about photography (by Ira the Photographer-in-residence), albatross ID (by Steve the Bird Man), and Shackleton's journey (by Dave the Historian). Perhaps followed by a visit to the bridge to look for birds. And then back to the napping. The night was rounded out by a movie in the lounge: a disappointing chick flick, but you can't please everyone. And besides, if you don't like the movie, there's always, you know, napping.

January 2, 2011
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The Patchectomy

Scotica Sea, Antarctica

I was wrong. It was not a hangover. And it was not seasickness. So why couldn't I get out of bed this morning?

It took me a while to figure it out for sure, not until later in the day when the other symptoms began to kick in. I squinted at the information pamphlet that accompanied the Scopolamine patch I had been wearing for seasickness the past two days: lethargy, blurred vision - it was starting to sound familiar. Though intrigued by the next symptom listed - hallucinations - I decided it was time to perform an emergency patchectomy. (OK, I just peeled it off my neck, but some of us have a flair for the dramatic.) And as such I implore anyone thinking of doing a cruise with long stretches at sea: bring a variety of remedies, as you just don't know how you'll react to extended use of any of them. Hallucinations might be fun in regular life, but not on those occasions when real life can rival them.

Bleary-eyed, I made appearances at the day's events, unwilling to miss out. Derek the Naturalist talked about penguins in a typically wonderful display of his PowerPoint skills (which I could not get enough of, as a PowerPoint junkie myself). Dave gave us Shackleton Part II, and Panya the Geologist talked about - big surprise - geology. And our Expedition Leader Dave brought us all together for a primer on South Georgia, which ended with all of us vacuuming our wetsuits to avoid carrying invasive species onto the island.

And an early bed. For I was about to wake up to three of the best days of travel of my life.

January 3, 2011
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The View from Here

Salisbury Plain, South Georgia

Standing atop Salisbury Plain on South Georgia Island I looked down on a colony of over 200,000 king penguins. It was one of the most striking things I've ever witnessed.

Nearing the island on the ship, it took a while to get a feel for the magnitude of what we were seeing. What appeared from a distance to be a large barren area surrounded by vegetation was actually not at all barren. The large brown patch was the second largest king penguin colony in the world and so large that the possibility seemed unfathomable until close enough to make out individuals moving.

We landed right on the beach amongst them, as well as territorial fur seals, at the bottom of a steep cliff that we climbed to get this breathtaking vantage point. Since king penguins breed year round here, every stage could be seen in the colony, from egg to chick to lanky juvenile. The older juveniles were as large (if not larger) than the adults and looked like they were wearing garish brown fur coats to keep warm. Their curiosity of us made them reach out and attempt to check us out with their bills. Though we felt unthreatened by this exploratory gesture, it was very surreal to be so examined this way.

As if Salisbury Plain wasn't thrilling enough to last a whole vacation, a group of us spent the afternoon retracing the last of Shackleton's trek from his landing on the uninhabited side of South Georgia Island to the whaling station where he would make his first contact with civilization in a year and rescue his crew. Much of the climb was through a barren hillside full of slaty scree, surrounded by snow-capped mountains all around. Here and there we'd see snatches of wildlife or trees, but the greatest view of all came just as we crested the ridge and saw the remnants of the old whaling station below. I closed my eyes and imagined that rather than seeing that view after a few hours hike, I was at the end of an arduous journey of many months that held the fate of dozens of men. And then I stepped back into my own shoes and enjoyed the rest of our walk. It was a beautiful sunny day and we did not mind taking our time down to Fortuna Day to be picked up by our ship.

To round the day out, Expedition Leader Dave held a Shackleton reading up in the lounge and we imbibed perhaps one too many Beagle Stouts as we recounted the day's events with fellow passengers and staff. But no regrets for the generous pours, it had been a day worthy of celebration.

January 4, 2011
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City life in Grytviken

Grytviken, South Georgia

The old whaling town of Grytviken is the height of civilization on South Georgia Island. We started our day there at the small cemetery that held Shackleton's tombstone, where following tradition, we toasted him and poured the rest of our drink over his grave. The ground was moist with Jameson's that morning. Splitting up, some chose to hike up to an albatross colony, while Anne, Erin, and I explored the town, which was still inhabited (though sparsely) and consisted of a working post office, museum, and church, along with the remnants of the whaling life that had passed there. Dodging seals, we walked around the harbor as arctic terns sailed by and young calves barked at the disturbance. The museum provided the last retail opportunity for most (whale tail necklaces were the top pick), while my prized possession was once again purchased at the post office: a limited edition signed print of a Giant Squid battling a Sperm Whale, which had been reproduced into my favorite stamp ever (also purchased here).

Sailing around the island over lunch, our afternoon excursion was on Gadthul. This time some of the group kayaked, while Linda, Brian, Mary Ann, and I hiked up a hill to discover nesting colonies of gentoos, reindeer (exotic to the island), and giant petrels. We hosted some South Georgian officials on our hike (who had come aboard the ship to do an inspection - they take their environmental stewardship very seriously and right they should) and learned about their upcoming efforts to rid the islands of invasive rats, which are major threats to seabirds and other native wildlife. (And a little too close to my day job for comfort.)

Back in Grytviken to drop off our visitors, the weather was perfect and we hosted a barbeque on the deck for the whole city, including the researchers, government officials, and residents. To be honest, I barely noticed our shipboard population bump up, but were pleased to offer them a change of scenery and some excellent food and drink. In return the researchers gave us a talk about their research right up until the weather changed and the captain informed us that the residents best leave now, or join us for the remainder of the cruise. We all waved goodbye from the deck as the staff whisked them back to land.

January 5, 2011
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Becoming part of the landscape

Gold Harbor, South Georgia

Gold Harbour would be our final landing on South Georgia Island and it was as spectacular as the first, in its own unique way. The beach front proved too surrounded by obstacles (water, cliffs, elephant seals) to afford a proper hike, which made for a nice excuse to sit and observe. The king penguins lined the beach and stream, and massive elephant seals looked like giant mounds splayed across the sand, until a couple of males set off to spar like two sea monsters rising to battle. A smaller gentoo colony occupied the cliffs behind the kings, and made occasional treks down the hillside and over the beach to the water. As a gentoo enthusiast, I found myself a spot in the middle of their path, sat down, and became part of the landscape. The gentoos became accustomed to my presence and headed right for me on their quest to the sea, veering off only at the last minute to avoid a head-on. Sheathbills, which are white chicken-like scavenging birds, would occasionally walk over and peck at my boots, looking for something to eat. Amongst all of this, I became enamored with a gentoo named Bo, who claimed a tussock mound to himself, and fought off every beast who came to challenge, even those several times his size, like king penguins and fur seals. I sat in this spot for well over and hour and took a million pictures. No, two million.

I won't pretend it was all fun and games though. The mood was broken slightly by some Circle of Life sadness between a king penguin juvenile and a skua. That's all I'll really say, but nature is nature.

In the afternoon we took a zodiac cruise of Cooper Bay, our last (and only) chance to see macaroni penguins. We chose the zodiac led by Steve the Bird Man, and spent an especially long time cruising the cliffs where they nested to get better and better looks. Being the 'birder' boat, we also chased down the South Georgia pipit, which is a bird that, in fact, only a birder could love as much as our boat did. It's a small brown sparrow-like jobbie that has the distinction of being the world's southernmost passerine and an endemic to the island. Bird nerd heaven

And then we were off, leaving South Georgia Island behind. Our captain took us through a special passageway, Drygalski Fjord. It was full of glaciers and ice, quite cold but quite beautiful. And a harbinger of what we would witness as we headed south to Antarctica proper.

January 6, 2011
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At sea: That non-drowsy drowsiness

Scotica Sea, Antarctica

At about 7:30 this morning, the announcement came for breakfast. Though I had been asleep for 12 hours at that point, it was still felt like waking up from out of a coma. The previous night the chicks of room 341 took a meclizine social before dinner as we headed out to rough seas, and were down for the count. You might know this as the 'non-drowsy' Dramamine, but our experience proved otherwise. We were in and out of sleep until about 3:00 or 4:00 pm that afternoon, making it a 20-hour marathon of 'non-drowsy'drowsiness. In between we occasionally tried to get up for a meal or one of the lectures, and even have vague recollections of talks concerning pinnipeds and ice. But sleep was the theme. And yet another drug checked off the list - good thing we brought that pharmacy! I went drug-free the rest of the day while the other ladies re-doped and closed their eyes. I passed the evening with dinner, another one of Expedition Leader Dave's 'fireside chats' in the lounge about exploration in the South Orkney Islands (so there was no fire, but his talks just had that easy feel), and drinks with the staff. Never a dull day, even when doped up to the max.

January 7, 2011
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South Orkney Islands and Penguins on Ice

South Orkney Islands, Antarctica

There were two main draws this morning: #1: big blue tabular icebergs, and #2: penguins porpoising through the water. Which led to the natural confluence of the two, and a sight we'd all been waiting for: penguins on ice. Better than Disney on Ice, penguins on ice are a combination that so greatly enhances the spectacle of either it's almost unfathomable. Plus, we were now moving into chinstrap penguin territory. Chinstrap penguins, as I like to explain, are amazing in that they have a strap on their chin. Swoon.

The Argentinian Orcadas base in the South Orkney Islands gave us a chance to stretch our legs on land today. Crew members can be on the island for a year or more, and even though this particular crew had just arrived the day before, they welcomed us on land and toured us around the island, which is deep with history of various explorations. Inside we ate cookies and had our passports stamped, and outside we watched penguins: a healthy array of gentoos, chinstraps, and a new contestant in the mix: the adelies. Energized by the excursion, the rest of the night was filled with happy hour and dinner and drinks with friends old and new. We fought over the last Beagle Stout and cached a secret stash hidden away from our rivals. And I must admit that we felt just a hint a pride that we drank them out of this beer only midway through the trip.

January 8, 2011
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Elephant Island

Elephant Island, South Orkney Islands

The highlight of this day at sea was arrival at Elephant Island, where Shackleton's men stayed for 5 months while he sailed to South Georgia for assistance. (If you haven't read a good book about Shackleton's journey before the trip, such as Endurance, you might have realized by now that it's a must. Not only is it an incredible story, but will enhance your appreciation for so many of these stops.) The swells were too large for us to do a landing on the island, so the captain did a slow cruise for us along its shoreline and we all gathered on the deck for festivities. Expedition Leader Dave did readings about Shackleton and his men while we looked out on the beach where they sheltered for so long. We celebrated back in the lounge with happy hour drinks cooled with glacier ice collected by one of the staff during our stop. We contemplated what ancient/alien viruses might be living in the ice but drank them down just the same.

January 9, 2011
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An International Incident

King George Island, South Shetland Islands

Back on land today, to the aptly named Penguin Island. I grudgingly bypassed the day's hike for the promise of an extra dose of chinstrap penguins, and was justly rewarded. A large breeding colony provided us with chinstraps at every stage of maturity, from fluffball chicks to lanky teenagers and perhaps new definitions of 'adorable'. There was so much action in this colony that watching and photographing it never got old.

But this is not the international incident I speak of, as the penguins and I were very well behaved, despite our cultural differences. The incident came at King George's Island, home of bases representing Uruguay, Russian, China, and Chile. We stopped here to meet the medevac helicopter that was scheduled to pick up 3 ailing passengers, and planned to make a short landing on the island, much to the delight of the Russian crew, who looked forward to visiting the old Russian church in the center of town. Poised in our orange wetskins and ready to unload, we waited and waited. Expedition Leader Dave reportedly spent a good deal of time negotiating the medevac contract on the beach before the copter would agree to fly anyone to Chile. And I witnessed one particularly hostile exchange between our captain and that of the Chilean naval vessel that complained we were too close to it. Our captain was nice enough to curse him out in English, and not Russian, so we could all appreciate it. Although in retrospect, perhaps that's why we were not allowed to land. I stand by him regardless. Giving up on the excursion after all the time spent dealing with other issues, we changed out of our wetskins and were greeted by what I like to call Appeasement Happy Hour on the deck: muffins and booze. We were an easily bought crowd, and our spirits never quite dampened. Despite the drama of the day, the staff was always professional and Expedition Leader Dave gave us a full debrief of the day's events after dinner down in the large presentation room downstairs to try to dispel any rumors and be as open as possible. Taking the opportunity of all being gathered in one place, many of the passengers stayed and socialized and a few of us stayed up way too late dancing. Today did not bring the excursion we had hoped for, but it was a day of adventure nonetheless.

January 10, 2011
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The Seventh Continent

Brown Bluff, Antarctic Peninsula

Every species of penguin deserves its own stop to check in on a giant breeding colony, and today it was the adelie's turn. Paulette Island, in the Weddell Sea, just off the Antarctic continent, was spectacularly overrun with them. Going about their business and crossing our direct paths with hardly a care of our presence, these expressive brushtails proved that it would take a long time before I got tired of this sort of thing. The rookery was so huge that it put in perspective all of Historian Dave's tales of explorers who got marooned on southern islands and ended up killing and eating 2000 penguins to make it through the winter. While the thought of eating even one penguin is not high on my list, I must admit that a 2000-penguin buffet would barely make a dent in this particular colony. Now protected from that kind of snacking, of course, the adelies now build nests and roost in the remnants of those past visits.

And then later that day, the moment we had all been waiting for: our landing at Brown Bluff, where we would first set foot on the continent on Antarctica! Almost two weeks into the trip at this point, it was really exciting to have just now reached this landmark, resulting in many photo ops and talk of the 'Seven Continent Club'. As might be imagined, the continent proper was mostly barren of vegetation, unlike the lush hillsides of the Falklands or South Georgia. We hiked up the hillside and took in the view with the knowledge that we had reached our ultimate destination. And, of course, we took in the penguins. Always the penguins.

Later that night our group celebrated with a surprise fake birthday dinner for me. As mentioned earlier, the trip itself was an extravagant present to myself for my 40th birthday, which was about a month away. My wonderful friends had planned this celebration for me well before the voyage and chose to hold it on the night we made landfall on Antarctica. And even though I thought it was curious that the staff - who apparently were in on it - had suddenly been wishing me a happy birthday all day, I NEVER caught on. Not until the moment that they sat me down at the table made up with special plates and an inflatable penguin, all carted all the way from the U.S. by my friends. As with all of the best celebrations, there was a tiara and a sash, and the staff provided a cake and hospitality bags. I even won the impromptu poker tournament up in the lounge that night: perhaps an unusual 'talent' for Miss America, but just about right for Miss World Traveler.

January 11, 2011
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Camping at the End of the Earth

Antarctic Peninsula, Antarctica

The main attractions of our morning zodiac cruise of Cierra Cove were ice and seals. Though the crabeater seals were more plentiful, the leopard seals stole the show. One particular individual was stunningly stretched out on his or her own piece of ice and I photographed it from every angle like it was a contestant on America's Next Top Model. Once again, the weather was perfect and the sun played off all of our subjects - seals, penguins, snow, and ice - for maximum effect.

Arriving back at the ship, the sight of our chef up on the top deck could mean only one thing: barbeque! Barbeques were always festive occasions and welcome opportunities to mingle. And with the weather as it was, it was a perfect day for it. A group of humpbacks were kind enough to treat us a show while we were all out on the top deck, and the captain circled the area to extend our stay with them. I knelt down by the rail so others could see over my head and one of the ship's crew came out came out to bring me a rug so my knees wouldn't get cold. A small gesture, but it's these kinds of special touches that I still remember 2 years later.

The mood kept up with an afternoon stop at Portal Point, which was basically a big hillside covered not with penguins for a change, but just snow. We hauled up the small hill in our orange wetskins, and for the first time, just...played: snowball fights, snow angels, and general frolicking were the order of the day. I took some direct hits at close range, but with the sun shining down on us and our first chance to cut loose, I barely held a grudge.

As if the day wasn't full enough, that night we camped right there at Portal Point. The staff spent much of the day telling us how miserable we'd be out there in the cold in effort to talk some of us out of going (some gear had been held up in customs so there were more people interested than spots available). My advice? Don't be scared off! I understand camping in a pile of snow is not everyone's idea of fun, but if you have the inkling, go for it, it's an experience worth having. It will also likely (hopefully!) be your only opportunity to dig your own grave, as the first order of business was to dig your own hole in the snow to sleep in, to provide shelter from chilly winds. And then we were on our own until morning, picking up the frolicking where we had started earlier, until finally realizing that the sun was never going to provide us a stimulus to go to bed by setting. It was such a sense of freedom to be running around with land under our feet and nowhere to be, that it was hard to call it a night. Finally at about midnight, the sky turned a brilliant pink and we climbed into our bivvy sacks to hunker down for the night underneath layers of clothes and equipment. It was a bit of a challenge to transform from the snow-proof outer layers of the wetskins to the cozy inner layers of fleece, toe warmers, sleeping bag, etc., but once the work was done I was fairly warm and drifted off to sleep quickly. I woke up sporadically through the night and felt some coldness where my body touched the ground, but overall slept sound and snugly. In my little snow grave in Antarctica.

January 12, 2011
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Sex, lies, and videotape: Penguin style

Cuverville Island, Antarctic Peninsula

Camping was great, but you can't knock indoor plumbing. I don't mind roughing it, but there's just no running behind a tree in Antarctica. And Mr. Yummy - the makeshift toilet set up for our camping adventure - was clearly not designed by a woman. So bathing, napping, and eating hot food were not an unwelcome way to spend our morning back on the ship.

That afternoon, Cuverville Island would be our only stop of the day and the last of our journey. The landing site consisted of a 300-meter beach with gentoo colonies on either side. This was a particular treat for me, as I had all but fallen in love with the gentoos and had ultimately declared them my favorite penguin for their jaunty personalities. The walk down to the colony consisted of a snowy hillside that was traversed by 'penguin highways' - paths that led back and forth from water to higher ground. Often we would just see little heads sticking up over the ledge as they trucked down the path. The colony itself was a treat to watch, once again proving that it never gets old. We saw displays of courtship that were almost too personal to have witnessed. One female kept splaying herself out for a seemingly interested male who would respond by continually bringing her more and more rocks, unaware of how to close the deal. Another female was more successful in attracting a mate and enjoyed perhaps the best 2 seconds of her life as a reward (don't blink while watching the video). Other penguins watched these displays from close range, as interested as us.

For fun, I sidled up to Derek the Naturalist, and asked him what kind of birds he thought we were looking at (knowing, of course, that gentoos were rather unmistakable and we had seen them every single day). 'Those are blue-footed boobies,' he replied, without missing a beat. 'Which is a misnomer really, as they have neither blue feet, nor boobies.' Enthralled with the colony, I stayed even after others had retreated, and Derek, Brian, and I witnessed our second major Circle of Life moment of the trip, when an Antarctic skua snatched an egg out from under an incubating gentoo. Sad as it was, it provided an intriguing story as we watched the skua carry the egg away and try to crack it open, carrying it around and pushing at it unsuccessfully with its bill for quite some time. At one point it picked up the egg, carried it over to the penguin highway closest to us, dropped it on the ground, and seemingly looked over at us for help. I yelled instructions out to the skua and Derek volunteered to go down there and crack it open himself, but all to no avail. Soon the wind picked up and we had to return to the ship before the weather turned any worse. The skua was no closer to success as we headed out. We had a rocky ride back to the ship as snow and wind whipped at us, but it almost completed the experience: might as well top off all the fantastic weather we had with a little 'authentic' Antarctica cold before heading home. And it probably made it easier to head back to the ship for good than warmth and a clear sky might have.

January 13, 2011
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Giant Squid and Polar Pictionary

Drake Passage, Antarctica

A full day in the Drake Passage and nothing to do but hang out, listen to presentations, and try to keep food down. Last night my roommates and I had taken the regular Dramamine (i.e., the 'more drowsy' Dramamine) and it had worked like a charm without putting us into cryosleep for the entire day. Third drug's a charm. Being awake allowed us to listen to presentations by Historian Dave, and Derek the Naturalist, who was kind enough to include a giant squid reference in his cetacean talk for those of us who could not help but ask him every morning if we'd see one that day. (Poor Derek, I don't know if I'd want to be stuck on a ship that long with me.) The women beat the men at a competitive game of Polar Pictionary in the lounge, and we mingled about the boat with shipmates we had grown quite comfortable with over the course of our adventure.

January 14, 2011
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Krill Bill and a Proper Send-off

Drake Passage, Antarctica

Our last day on the ship. More lectures by Historian Dave, and Derek the Naturalist, whose presentation 'Krill Bill' was an instant classic in krill biology entertainment. We passed within 3 miles of Cape Horn, Chile, signaling our voyage was almost at an end. But not without a proper send-off.

Ira the Photographer-in-Residence put together a 20-minute 'best of' slide show from the trip that we had all contributed to. David the Expedition Leader handed out champagne, toasted our voyage, and recapped our incredible trip. The Captain joined us in his dress uniform and was welcomed with a rousing cheer of appreciation for the burly Russian that had treated us to indescribable wonders, safely navigated us twice through the Drake Passage, and stood up to the Chilean Navy. He spoke many kind words, but particularly touching was his toast to each and every species of penguins we had seen. Finally, we saw a presentation of Ira's photos, which he put together at our demand, content to otherwise show photos by the passengers only. So his one-upped ours a bit (or a lot), but they should have and they were beautiful. The night ended with a ship-wide dance party, but a wee bit less fresh than we were 14 days ago when New Year's arrived, the broads of 341 turned in early, and hit the sack one last time in our floating hotel.

January 15, 2011
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A Trip Beyond Expectations

Ushuaia, Argentina

The last morning was all about packing and making our way off the ship. Hugs, goodbyes, and some final shenanigans before we disembarked and said goodbye to the staff who had formed a receiving line outside. We may have been just another set of passengers to them, but they will always be an unforgettable set of characters in this grand adventure and I am forever grateful to all of them for helping to create a trip that fell beyond my expectations.

Due to some flight rearrangements in Ushuaia (supposedly due to hostility between Argentina and Chile that had temporarily closed their shared border to travelers) a number of us ended up with an extended stay in its small airport, though with the promise of flying us directly to the international airport in Buenos Aires and thus avoiding a trip across the city to change airports. One last extended-group gathering with our new friends as we pushed tables together and passed the next few hours eating and chatting. On the plane, Erin and I sat with Helga, a woman from the ship that we had wished we had gotten to know much earlier. Helga was older than us in years, but perhaps younger than us in spirit. For instance, we learned that while Antarctica was the seventh continent I had walked on, it was the seventh continent that Helga had camped on. She regaled us with stories of past adventures and of her upcoming trips this year to New Zealand and Papua New Guinea, all on her own. She was such an inspiration that even as this adventure was still winding down, we couldn't help but start planning our next one.

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