Falkland Islands, South Georgia and Antarctica Trip

One day in January 2012 I was on my own in the Hayden Valley in Yellowstone National Park, about a four hour drive from my home in Missoula, Montana, watching wolves. The temperature was -20F. Two weeks later I was in the Antarctic, where it was never less than 50 degrees warmer. Go figure. Traveling from Missoula is seldom easy. The voyage to the Antarctic began with four flights, to Minneapolis, Atlanta, Buenos Aires and, finally, Ushuaia. Although there is some dispute about this, Ushuaia is generally considered to be the southernmost city in the world. It is situated on the Beagle Channel, named for the HMS Beagle, Charles Darwin's famous research vessel.

After a late evening arrival in Ushuaia, I had a full day free to explore the city before the scheduled time to board our vessel, the MV Ortelius. The Ortelius is an ice-strengthened vessel built in Poland in 1989 for the Russian Academy of Science. Now Dutch owned, it was operated by a Russian crew and a multinational expedition staff - German, Danish, and Argentine. The passengers were mostly European, along with five Americans and others from Asia, South America, Australia and New Zealand, a truly eclectic group. I spent my day in Ushuaia walking along the waterfront, photographing birds - species of terns, gulls, cormorants, geese, and a caracara, that were all new to me. It was windy, but the temperature was in the fifties, so it was comfortable with a fleece top and a medium weight wind breaker. It was a wonderful way to begin the adventure. At 6:00 PM I boarded the Ortelius and was shown to my cabin, which I was sharing with two other men, one from the Netherlands and the other from Chile. I've been on a number of large ship cruises (not my ideal vacation but they were corporate trips) and each began with an emergency drill in which the passengers collected their life preservers and gathered at an assigned public area. The Ortelius, too, had a safety drill, but in this one we all boarded one of the two lifeboats - a useful exercise, and an experience that makes me quite happy that there was no need to use the lifeboats except for the drill.

Under the command of a pilot we headed out of port and east into the Beagle Channel, bound for the Falkland Islands. Meanwhile, we gathered for dinner and our first presentation by the expedition staff. And we were told that we should prepare for weather once the pilot disembarked and we entered the South Atlantic. I'm fortunate in that I don't get seasick, so the ocean conditions didn't trouble me. Attendance at meals throughout the first full day at sea, however, was somewhat limited. And the conditions were challenging for photography. I was able to get some reasonable photos of Northern Giant Petrels (yes, ''northern,'' - we were in Antarctica before we saw any Southern Giant Petrels), Black-browed Albatross and Southern Royal Albatross, along with a storm petrel - how do such small birds survive in the open ocean? I say ''reasonable photos,'' and in the edited format they are, but in the unedited versions the horizons were often 20 or 30 degrees off horizontal, the result of the motion of the ship through the wind and waves. The conditions made it impossible to stand on the foredeck but I was able to find some spots near the stern from which to observe and photograph, and spent almost every available moment there. The ocean is a special place, particularly in heavy weather.

The next morning we were in what felt like calm water, at West Point Island, off the northwest point of West Falkland. When the expedition staff tried to land, however, they determined that the surf conditions were too rough for a safe landing. (All our landings, except the next day at Stanley, were wet; the ship provided high rubber boots, necessary for the landings and for what they called ''mud'' - but with millions of penguins on shore we knew better.) The disappointment was palpable, as West Point is where we had hoped to see Rockhopper Penguins and nesting Black-browed Albatross. We did see some rockhoppers in the water, but it wasn't the same. To understand why, I recommend viewing the BBC/David Attenborough series from 1993, ''Life in the Freezer.'' Nothing I could say can match viewing the episode of that series that includes the rockhoppers - which we watched the previous night on the ship. As for the Black-browed Albatross, it had become a favorite of mine when I first saw one (albeit of a different population) in New Zealand.

Our next site was Carcass Island, popular with birders as it has no cats or rats and as a result has a variety of birds not found on other islands in the archipelago. Unfortunately, conditions there were no more conducive to landing than at West Point, and we spent the day meandering between the two islands hoping in vain for an improvement in conditions. A pod of Commerson's dolphins swam around the ship for several hours and a whale was spotted directly beneath the ship, but one can't deny that the inability to land that day was a disappointment.

One day later, however, we were on the east side of East Falkland, at Stanley, where we were able to spend the entire day on shore. In the morning we did a wonderful hike, led by several locals in addition to the ship's expedition staff, and had our first penguin experience. There were numerous Magellanic Penguins nesting along the coast, and we encountered adults and chicks. We also came across numerous other species that were new to me. The Falkland Steamer Duck is endemic to the Falklands. Others - Magellanic and Blackish Oystercatchers, Long-tailed Meadowlarks, Two-banded Plovers, Crested Ducks - are more widely dispersed through southern South America, but the furthest south I had been previously was to Iguazu Falls. The path of the hike was bounded, in certain areas, by fences that were marked with signs warning of mines still left from the 1982 war between Argentina and Great Britain over possession of the Falklands. The locals told of a cow that had had the misfortune of stepping on a mine several years earlier, and there was a team from Zimbabwe clearing mines elsewhere on the island. And there was a wonderful road sign that said: ''SLOW: Mine Field.'' To me ''fast'' would have made more sense. Still. In the afternoon we went on a very rough off-road journey to a beach where we had our next penguin encounter. We spent a couple of hours watching and being watched by penguins, mostly Gentoos but a there was a small colony of King Penguins as well. This was February, near the end of the breeding season, so many of the chicks were as large as the adults and in their adult plumage while others were still wholly or partly covered in down and a few looked as if they had only recently hatched. The area where we humans were permitted was marked with cones, to prevent our approaching too close to the penguins, but no worries - if we sat still, the penguins approached us. It was a wonderful expedition.

We were back on the ship by 6:00, and on our way to South Georgia Island, more than two days to the southeast. Once again I spent whatever time I could on deck, although in 20-30 foot seas it was often difficult to find a spot where it was possible to manipulate binoculars and camera and at the same time maintain secure footing. Still, there were Black-browed Albatross, Wandering Albatross, Light-mantled Sooty Albatross, petrels, prions, storm petrels and shearwaters. And thanks to digital cameras, which allow manipulation of images to straighten horizons and magnification of a portion of an image I was able to get photos that were good enough to satisfy me. One would have to see the unmanipulated photos to appreciate fully what I mean.

I was scarcely prepared for South Georgia. I had, of course, read about Ernest Shackleton, and knew generally about his trek across the mountains and glaciers of South Georgia after having crossed the Southern Ocean in an open boat with five of his crew. But I was unprepared for the scale of the mountains and the abundance of glaciers. The only flat areas were right along the coast, and not even there in many places. It is a stark and incredibly beautiful place - a place that one hopes can be preserved. South Georgia has very strict requirements for visiting ships. Visits are limited to 72 hours. Boots and other gear must be washed between landings so as to avoid transferring biological material from one site to another. The number of visitors allowed on shore at certain locations is limited, so we were taken ashore in two shifts. And the ship was required to be blacked out at night to avoid lights from the ship attracting birds (mostly prions and petrels) that fly to and from shore after dark, thereby avoiding predators.

South Georgia has very strict requirements for visiting ships. Visits are limited to 72 hours. Boots and other gear must be washed between landings so as to avoid transferring biological material from one site to another. The number of visitors allowed on shore at certain locations is limited, so we were taken ashore in two shifts. And the ship was required to be blacked out at night to avoid lights from the ship attracting birds (mostly prions and petrels) that fly to and from shore after dark, thereby avoiding predators.

During the following two days we did five landings at South Georgia. The wildlife was incredible. There were King Penguins, Gentoo Penguins and Macaroni Penguins. I used to think of penguins as being black and white, and certainly those are the predominant colors. But King Penguins have extensive yellow markings, Gentoos have red/orange bills and feet, and Macaronis - well, they have orange bills, a pink gape, red eyes, yellow ''eyebrows'' and pink feet. There were, in addition to the expected southern fur seals that were seemingly everywhere, southern elephant seals, with some of the males sparring with each other (breeding season was over) while females lazed about. We saw Wandering Albatross nesting, and Northern Giant Petrels on land. And Yellow-billed Pintails, Brown Skuas, Antarctic Terns and Snowy Sheathbills. And more. One landing was at Grytviken, a former whaling station that is now a small British settlement and research station, with a museum and book store. It is where Shackleton reached help and arranged to rescue his crew still at Elephant Island or on the other side of South Georgia. It is where he and his ''right hand man,'' Frank Wild, are buried in a cemetery that is ''guarded'' by a cohort of elephant seals. Apparently the tradition is for visitors to Shackleton's grave to take a sip of rum and pour the balance of the drink onto the grave. At least that's what we were told, and did. That night, while still at anchor at Grytviken, the British contingent visited our ship, where we had a barbecue on deck and a night of dancing and partying. The following morning we had a final landing on South Georgia, at Gold Harbor - home to a large colony of King Penguins and lesser numbers of Gentoo Penguins (as well as other critters that were now becoming familiar to us), and then reboarded the ship to begin the journey southwest to the Antarctic Peninsula. But there was one more site to be visited in South Georgia before we hit the open ocean, Drygalski Fjord. Drygalski Fjord is, as one might expect, reasonably narrow. It has numerous glaciers that come right down to the ocean. And when we were there it had wind, lots and lots of wind. About 70 knots of wind. The surface of the ocean was quite flat, but that's because the fjord is narrow; even with minimal waves there was a good deal of spray. We passed one glacier the meltwater from which formed a small waterfall, except that the wind blew the water up, where it seemed to evaporate, so that none of the meltwater reached the ocean. On the ship itself those of us who were foolhardy enough to be on deck - where it was difficult to stay upright - noticed that the benches from which we could observe the ocean on calmer days were blown 90 degrees up from their usual position, and were still on the ship only because they were tied to it.

And then we were out of the fjord and into the Southern Ocean. And for the next three days we were confined to the interior of the ship. The extremely strong winds continued, so that the ship could make only about 8 knots. We were allowed in the bridge - we were always allowed in the bridge, except when the pilot was on board - from which we could watch the bow slam into huge waves, which would break well above the bow and slam into the exterior of the bridge, which was on the ship's eighth deck. Traveling through the Southern Ocean, in a modern ship that is capable of communication with the outside world, gives one a great appreciation of those who explored or worked in those waters in sailing vessels, totally dependent on and subject to the mercy of the weather, and totally isolated from the outside world. It is almost beyond my comprehension. And so it continued until we neared the sea ice extending out from the Antarctic continent, at which point we were once again allowed on deck and observed Southern Fulmars, Pintado Petrels, a few Snow Petrels and even one Antarctic Petrel, which came and left before I could get it in focus. Oh yes - there were icebergs galore. And our first Adele Penguins. And Crabeater Seals. We were in Erebus and Terror Gulf (named, I'm happy to say, after the HMS Erebus and the HMS Terror, which were used in exploring the area, and not after anything that had happened there) nearing Antarctica.

Our land exploration of Antarctica began at Paulet Island, at the northeast tip of the Antarctic Peninsula and the northwest limit of Erebus and Terror Gulf. There we wandered in the midst of colonies of Adele Penguins and Antarctic Shags (cormorants). We also visited the gravesite of Ole Christian Wennersgard, who died in 1902 during the Swedish Antarctic Expedition. From there the ship headed a short distance south to Brown Bluff, on the Antarctic continent proper. The highlights there were Southern - yes, finally, Southern - Giant Petrels, crabeater seals, and a Snow Petrel chick, still in its nest inside a cave. In addition, there was lots of activity in the Gentoo Penguin colony. Chicks, by now as large as or larger than their parents, were begging to be fed one more time. Some parents cooperated but others tried their best to chase the chicks into the ocean. It is essential that the chicks become independent at about this time as the parents begin to molt, and while molting cannot feed the chicks, so if the chicks remain dependent on the parents they will be unable to survive. The scenes were comical to observe - parents chasing chicks, chicks chasing parents - but for the penguins themselves they were a matter of survival. We then crossed over to the west side of the Antarctic Peninsula and spent several hours at a colony of Chinstrap Penguins. One individual, in particular, attracted my attention. He - as the males build the ''nests'' it was almost certainly a male - seemed confused about the fact that breeding season was long since over. Chinstraps build nests of pebbles or small rocks, and they, like other penguins, are not above stealing rocks from their neighbors. This individual was busy ''stealing'' rocks to build his own nest, but it was obviously to no purpose and the neighboring penguins didn't even seem to care. Perhaps he was an adolescent, just practicing skills he would need in the future. But perhaps he was just confused. We had one final land expedition on Antarctica, at Goudier Island. The island is the home of Port Lockroy, an historic site that was a British base during World War II. We had the opportunity to have our passports stamped there, and a final opportunity to spend time with Gentoo Penguins. To my knowledge nobody on the trip brought a penguin home, though many of us were tempted.

Our experience in the Antarctic was not limited to our four landings. We observed numerous humpback whales from the ship, and on our final zodiac cruise we saw several from water level. The passengers taking videos of the whales laughed each time a humpback dived, as the sound that accompanied the whale's tail being in the air was that of all the still cameras taking multiple shots In addition we had the opportunity to observe a number of seals. A leopard seal, one of the apex predators of the Antarctic, made several approaches to our zodiac, and returned each time to an ice flow. Its movements on the ice were serpentine - I was reminded of anacondas or pythons - and its swimming seemed effortless. It dropped off the ice into the water in total silence, and until it surfaced next to the zodiac we had no idea where it was. On the same zodiac trip we spent time observing several weddell seals, one of which was particularly photogenic. We reached as far as 65 deg 11' south, just short of the Antarctic Circle. And then it was time to return to Ushuaia, which meant crossing the fearsome Drake Channel. For us, however, it was like crossing Drake Lake, which was only fair given how the weather had beaten us up on the trip south from South Georgia. In the end I had seen seven penguin species, five species of seals, four albatross species, plus whales, dolphins, and numerous other birds. And absolutely unforgettable scenery. I'd return in an instant, but not in February, not because February wasn't great - it was - but simply because it would be a treat to see the critters at an earlier stage of the breeding season.