At Sea and South Georgia
Today was a day of contrasts. We began at sea in the Furious Fifties with a beam sea of fifteen-foot waves and force eight winds and we ended it in Cooper Harbor with blue skies and no breeze. Between these extremes occurred a fabulous day.
When we awoke we were heading southwest toward the south end of South Georgia. The sea was coming on our beam-ends from the northwest and the wind was blowing strong from the same direction. By later in the morning the wind had backed 180 degrees and was coming from the southwest. Prions, white-chinned petrels, giant petrels and those delights of the southern seas, the pintado petrels, were egging us on. Flying up one side of the ship they would peel off, return to the stern, only to repeat the fly by. It was clear who was master of this universe.
In the early afternoon as we neared South Georgia in snow squalls, heavy seas and high winds, we could barely see half a mile. Suddenly, the mist dissolved and the bases of the rugged mountains of South Georgia were visible under a layer of dense cloud. A few blue patches, known to some as sucker patches, appeared in the cloud cover. Rather than promising and not delivering these patches grew and grew and the day brightened. And for the first time in days we saw our first land based birds. Antarctic terns and shags flew along side making heavy weather into the wind barely keeping up with the ship.
We were headed to Cooper Bay at the southeast end of the island where we hoped to see chinstrap and macaroni penguins but when we arrived the wind had strengthened from the south and we could not find a lee. But what we did find were magnificent tabular icebergs that had drifted from Antarctica. They had grounded in the relatively shallow water south and east of Cape Disappointment where Captain Cook had determined that South Georgia was not part of that great Terra Incognita that many believed existed.
Since weather controls activities in South Georgia we cruised up nearby Drygalski Fjord while waiting for the weather to change. We watched waterfalls, admired the scenery and spotted snow petrels and sheathbills. We turned in front of the glacier and with the wind at our backs headed towards Cooper Bay once again. By the time we were there the wind had shifted into the west and moderated. It was time for a Zodiac cruise.
On one headland were chinstrap and gentoo penguins, on another were macaronis and in between were courting elephant seals, partly grown king penguin chicks, fur seals, and light-mantled sooty albatrosses. What an introduction.
We returned to the ship tired, happy and impressed. As we sat at anchor during dinner with the beauty of the rugged mountains as a backdrop for a late setting sun, we reflected on the changes that we had experienced this day. We had understood the power of the Furious Fifties and experienced the beauty of South Georgia. We had come to understand the meaning of wildness.
Today was a day of contrasts. We began at sea in the Furious Fifties with a beam sea of fifteen-foot waves and force eight winds and we ended it in Cooper Harbor with blue skies and no breeze. Between these extremes occurred a fabulous day.
When we awoke we were heading southwest toward the south end of South Georgia. The sea was coming on our beam-ends from the northwest and the wind was blowing strong from the same direction. By later in the morning the wind had backed 180 degrees and was coming from the southwest. Prions, white-chinned petrels, giant petrels and those delights of the southern seas, the pintado petrels, were egging us on. Flying up one side of the ship they would peel off, return to the stern, only to repeat the fly by. It was clear who was master of this universe.
In the early afternoon as we neared South Georgia in snow squalls, heavy seas and high winds, we could barely see half a mile. Suddenly, the mist dissolved and the bases of the rugged mountains of South Georgia were visible under a layer of dense cloud. A few blue patches, known to some as sucker patches, appeared in the cloud cover. Rather than promising and not delivering these patches grew and grew and the day brightened. And for the first time in days we saw our first land based birds. Antarctic terns and shags flew along side making heavy weather into the wind barely keeping up with the ship.
We were headed to Cooper Bay at the southeast end of the island where we hoped to see chinstrap and macaroni penguins but when we arrived the wind had strengthened from the south and we could not find a lee. But what we did find were magnificent tabular icebergs that had drifted from Antarctica. They had grounded in the relatively shallow water south and east of Cape Disappointment where Captain Cook had determined that South Georgia was not part of that great Terra Incognita that many believed existed.
Since weather controls activities in South Georgia we cruised up nearby Drygalski Fjord while waiting for the weather to change. We watched waterfalls, admired the scenery and spotted snow petrels and sheathbills. We turned in front of the glacier and with the wind at our backs headed towards Cooper Bay once again. By the time we were there the wind had shifted into the west and moderated. It was time for a Zodiac cruise.
On one headland were chinstrap and gentoo penguins, on another were macaronis and in between were courting elephant seals, partly grown king penguin chicks, fur seals, and light-mantled sooty albatrosses. What an introduction.
We returned to the ship tired, happy and impressed. As we sat at anchor during dinner with the beauty of the rugged mountains as a backdrop for a late setting sun, we reflected on the changes that we had experienced this day. We had understood the power of the Furious Fifties and experienced the beauty of South Georgia. We had come to understand the meaning of wildness.
