Hanusse Bay
Below the Antarctic Circle, with midsummer a mere four days away, the sun does not set. Yesterday evening merged into a night that never really happened with beautiful light and a search for fast ice - frozen sea that is still attached to the land. At about one o'clock in the morning we found what we were looking for. A white horizon blocked our passage through Hanusse Bay and we nudged the ship snugly into our berth for the night. Tearing ourselves away from the scene we retired to await the morning.
We awoke to a vision of stark Antarctic beauty. While sunrise is now a redundant term, it had risen from the southern horizon in full glory, illuminating a scene that went beyond the search for adequate words to describe it. It was enough just to smile at those sharing the moment. Stretching ahead of the ship as far as one could see was an unbroken white carpet of frozen ocean. Locked into the sea ice, a number of icebergs provided the only relief other than the distant mountains. Chinstrap and Adélie penguins gathered in small groups around the ship and several species of seals were scattered about on the ice.
We lowered the gangway, applied sunblock and sunglasses, and ventured into whiteness to explore this new fantasy realm by foot, or by kayaks, launched from the edge of the fast ice. A few hardy souls launched themselves into the icy waters for a true polar plunge.
Today was one of those rare days when the norms of day to day life apparently no longer apply. This is why we come to places like Antarctica, and you should too. The experiences are so extraordinary that they seem to be bordering on the impossible. Apparently intelligent and eloquent adults run out of words to express themselves. It is possible to not only walk on the ocean, as it is frozen, but also to take a swim in water that is below freezing. Time stretches and, by the end of the day, the events of the previous 24 hours seem so vivid yet so distant, etched into memory forever.
Below the Antarctic Circle, with midsummer a mere four days away, the sun does not set. Yesterday evening merged into a night that never really happened with beautiful light and a search for fast ice - frozen sea that is still attached to the land. At about one o'clock in the morning we found what we were looking for. A white horizon blocked our passage through Hanusse Bay and we nudged the ship snugly into our berth for the night. Tearing ourselves away from the scene we retired to await the morning.
We awoke to a vision of stark Antarctic beauty. While sunrise is now a redundant term, it had risen from the southern horizon in full glory, illuminating a scene that went beyond the search for adequate words to describe it. It was enough just to smile at those sharing the moment. Stretching ahead of the ship as far as one could see was an unbroken white carpet of frozen ocean. Locked into the sea ice, a number of icebergs provided the only relief other than the distant mountains. Chinstrap and Adélie penguins gathered in small groups around the ship and several species of seals were scattered about on the ice.
We lowered the gangway, applied sunblock and sunglasses, and ventured into whiteness to explore this new fantasy realm by foot, or by kayaks, launched from the edge of the fast ice. A few hardy souls launched themselves into the icy waters for a true polar plunge.
Today was one of those rare days when the norms of day to day life apparently no longer apply. This is why we come to places like Antarctica, and you should too. The experiences are so extraordinary that they seem to be bordering on the impossible. Apparently intelligent and eloquent adults run out of words to express themselves. It is possible to not only walk on the ocean, as it is frozen, but also to take a swim in water that is below freezing. Time stretches and, by the end of the day, the events of the previous 24 hours seem so vivid yet so distant, etched into memory forever.
