Hyrdrurga Rocks & the Gerlache Strait
Leaving behind the spectacular peaks bordering the Lemaire Channel and scenic Port Lockroy, we sailed through the evening and night north through the Gerlache Strait. Morning found us offshore from some rather bleak looking rocks known as Hydrurga Island, named for the scientific name of the leopard seal. The main goal here was to visit a chinstrap penguin colony, the one species of penguin breeding along the Antarctic Peninsula that had eluded us so far. The weather looked appropriately Antarctic outside – wet snow going sideways. But by now we were used to it, and we piled into the lurching Zodiacs and headed toward shore.
As we got close to the island, we could see that the wet, rocky hills were actually capped by groups of chinstraps, noisily calling and generally welcoming us to the island. Scrambling up the rocks to get a closer look revealed many chicks that were getting quite large. It is just the right time of year to see penguins raising their chicks, and the commotion in the colonies is entertaining to say the least. Today, the fluffy brown chicks didn’t look all that cozy standing there in the blowing snow and rain, but they are penguins after all and they can take it. If fact, they appeared much more comfortable than the panting gentoo penguins we saw a few days ago that were overheating on a warm sunny day.
The chinstraps have a very loud mutual call, and we observed pairs displaying to each other in a vigorous manner which involved a lot of head waving and flipper beating. Some adults were even doing this display with their chicks. Chicks were already getting large enough to join crèches, and were standing together in small groups. “Crèche” is the term given to the groups of chicks that huddle up when they are no longer continuously guarded by a parent. Then both parents can go off to forage at the same time – the better to satisfy their always hungry offspring, which they identify on return to the colony by their voice. This of course entails a lot more noisy exchanges.
Chinstraps were not the only denizens of this place, though. A group of young Antarctic fur seals rested and played on a snow slope, while larger males kept an eye on everything going on from higher perches among the rocks. Blue-eyed shags, kelp gulls, and skuas were also common around the island. And, just as we were about to get into the Zodiacs to head back to the ship, a pair of humpback whales surfaced just offshore.
Back at the ship, we rinsed off any traces of penguin guano with the ingenious boot scrubbers and spray hoses in the mud room before entering the ship proper. It won’t do, after all, to take that penguin smell home with us if we can avoid it!
In the afternoon, as we cruised the Gerlache Strait through the fog, the wind died and whales were spotted ahead. We paused to watch a mother and calf humpback whale accompanied by an escort, foraging among icebergs as light snow fell. It really felt like Antarctica to see these graceful giants coming up among the ice.
Later in the afternoon, we met up with our sister ship, the National Geographic Explorer, now Southbound at the beginning of their journey down the peninsula. We bid them well as we were about to head north across the Drake Passage once again – on the final leg of our adventure.
Leaving behind the spectacular peaks bordering the Lemaire Channel and scenic Port Lockroy, we sailed through the evening and night north through the Gerlache Strait. Morning found us offshore from some rather bleak looking rocks known as Hydrurga Island, named for the scientific name of the leopard seal. The main goal here was to visit a chinstrap penguin colony, the one species of penguin breeding along the Antarctic Peninsula that had eluded us so far. The weather looked appropriately Antarctic outside – wet snow going sideways. But by now we were used to it, and we piled into the lurching Zodiacs and headed toward shore.
As we got close to the island, we could see that the wet, rocky hills were actually capped by groups of chinstraps, noisily calling and generally welcoming us to the island. Scrambling up the rocks to get a closer look revealed many chicks that were getting quite large. It is just the right time of year to see penguins raising their chicks, and the commotion in the colonies is entertaining to say the least. Today, the fluffy brown chicks didn’t look all that cozy standing there in the blowing snow and rain, but they are penguins after all and they can take it. If fact, they appeared much more comfortable than the panting gentoo penguins we saw a few days ago that were overheating on a warm sunny day.
The chinstraps have a very loud mutual call, and we observed pairs displaying to each other in a vigorous manner which involved a lot of head waving and flipper beating. Some adults were even doing this display with their chicks. Chicks were already getting large enough to join crèches, and were standing together in small groups. “Crèche” is the term given to the groups of chicks that huddle up when they are no longer continuously guarded by a parent. Then both parents can go off to forage at the same time – the better to satisfy their always hungry offspring, which they identify on return to the colony by their voice. This of course entails a lot more noisy exchanges.
Chinstraps were not the only denizens of this place, though. A group of young Antarctic fur seals rested and played on a snow slope, while larger males kept an eye on everything going on from higher perches among the rocks. Blue-eyed shags, kelp gulls, and skuas were also common around the island. And, just as we were about to get into the Zodiacs to head back to the ship, a pair of humpback whales surfaced just offshore.
Back at the ship, we rinsed off any traces of penguin guano with the ingenious boot scrubbers and spray hoses in the mud room before entering the ship proper. It won’t do, after all, to take that penguin smell home with us if we can avoid it!
In the afternoon, as we cruised the Gerlache Strait through the fog, the wind died and whales were spotted ahead. We paused to watch a mother and calf humpback whale accompanied by an escort, foraging among icebergs as light snow fell. It really felt like Antarctica to see these graceful giants coming up among the ice.
Later in the afternoon, we met up with our sister ship, the National Geographic Explorer, now Southbound at the beginning of their journey down the peninsula. We bid them well as we were about to head north across the Drake Passage once again – on the final leg of our adventure.
