Weddell Sea & Paulet Island
We often make little sacrifices in the name of self-preservation. Small decisions so easily executed by turning down the volume knob, located conveniently next to your head. The announcement of the iceberg came early, and I’m glad I shunned the magnetic pull of the sheets for the brisk cold vision that floated off our bow. Purloined directly from our abandoned collective dream, this penguin-laden berg served an ostentatious greeting to the Weddell Sea.
More bergs, penguins, snowy sheathbills, and one delicious breakfast later we were on approach to Danger Island. Safe harbor was not to be found, and so our feet would remain dry as we took the Zodiacs in for a closer look. Adélie penguins feeding, squawking, porpoising, preening, launching… literally everywhere. The awkward steps, slides off of ice, and jack-in-the-box springs onto the ice and shore provided an overwhelming amount of childish giggles. The blubbery lazy attitudes of the Weddell seals was stark juxtaposition to the perpetually moving penguins.
Exiting Danger Island led us into an other-worldly experience. If Heaven held sights as beautiful would we all be so lucky to enter St. Peter’s gates. Geometric enigmas formed from nature, snow, and magnificence escorted us deeper into the Weddell Sea. The sun, acting on the wishes of all photographers aboard, transformed the sky into atmospheric perfection as the clouds gave way to unencumbered rays. Even the simplest 3 megapixel point-and-shoot camera could not fail to capture the beauty surrounding the National Geographic Endeavour this afternoon. I was loathe to enter the shaded lounge for a lecture, and my apologies to naturalist Jason Kelley for opting instead for hours spent on the bow.
The giggles amplified into full-blown laughter as we got even closer with our first landing on Paulet Island. Penguins abounded, goofily waddling in and out of our way, feeding chicks bigger than themselves, and flapping their futile wings upon our approach. The long hike led to seals – alive and dead, massive breeding grounds, skuas, kelp gulls, and blue-eyed shags. Abundant life on a cold and alien rock. The sun bowed out as a storm moved in and gave us our first summertime snowfall experience. Lightly dusting the Adélies, the snow we saw as we exited the island gave calm closure to an intimate encounter that will bring smiles to this face for the rest of my days.
We often make little sacrifices in the name of self-preservation. Small decisions so easily executed by turning down the volume knob, located conveniently next to your head. The announcement of the iceberg came early, and I’m glad I shunned the magnetic pull of the sheets for the brisk cold vision that floated off our bow. Purloined directly from our abandoned collective dream, this penguin-laden berg served an ostentatious greeting to the Weddell Sea.
More bergs, penguins, snowy sheathbills, and one delicious breakfast later we were on approach to Danger Island. Safe harbor was not to be found, and so our feet would remain dry as we took the Zodiacs in for a closer look. Adélie penguins feeding, squawking, porpoising, preening, launching… literally everywhere. The awkward steps, slides off of ice, and jack-in-the-box springs onto the ice and shore provided an overwhelming amount of childish giggles. The blubbery lazy attitudes of the Weddell seals was stark juxtaposition to the perpetually moving penguins.
Exiting Danger Island led us into an other-worldly experience. If Heaven held sights as beautiful would we all be so lucky to enter St. Peter’s gates. Geometric enigmas formed from nature, snow, and magnificence escorted us deeper into the Weddell Sea. The sun, acting on the wishes of all photographers aboard, transformed the sky into atmospheric perfection as the clouds gave way to unencumbered rays. Even the simplest 3 megapixel point-and-shoot camera could not fail to capture the beauty surrounding the National Geographic Endeavour this afternoon. I was loathe to enter the shaded lounge for a lecture, and my apologies to naturalist Jason Kelley for opting instead for hours spent on the bow.
The giggles amplified into full-blown laughter as we got even closer with our first landing on Paulet Island. Penguins abounded, goofily waddling in and out of our way, feeding chicks bigger than themselves, and flapping their futile wings upon our approach. The long hike led to seals – alive and dead, massive breeding grounds, skuas, kelp gulls, and blue-eyed shags. Abundant life on a cold and alien rock. The sun bowed out as a storm moved in and gave us our first summertime snowfall experience. Lightly dusting the Adélies, the snow we saw as we exited the island gave calm closure to an intimate encounter that will bring smiles to this face for the rest of my days.
