Below the Antarctic Circle
The Antarctic Circle: an imaginary line that circles the globe at 66°33’ South. At this latitude the sun dips to the horizon at midnight on mid-summer night, 21 December, and then it rises again. In mid-winter, 21 June, the sun just fails to rise. Beyond the Antarctic Circle one enters the land of the Midnight Sun in summer and of Noonday Darkness in winter. Its northern counterpart, the Arctic Circle, is easily reached. Daily commercial jet flights arrive at any number of destinations north of the Arctic Circle, summer and winter. The Antarctic Circle is different. There are no commercial flights. To reach it requires a stout and sturdy ship, strengthened against the southern ice, and a bold crew to navigate her; a ship like our National Geographic Endeavour.
This morning we did what few other travelers do when we crossed the Antarctic Circle on our way to our morning destination: a small and snow-covered island named Detaille. Here in 1956 the Falkland Islands Dependency Survey (FIDS – later to become the British Antarctic Survey) established Base W to support regional research. It turned out to be a poor choice, as the sea ice surrounding the island was insecure and unpredictable. In fact, the ship coming to remove base personnel in March 1959 could get no closer than 30 miles. The departing men (for at that time only men could serve on British bases) departed on sledges with only minimal personal effects and records, and the station was abandoned. It exists pretty much as it was left 50 years ago, with clothing hanging on nails and provisions (lots of oatmeal!) in the cupboards. Our visit gave a window into life on an Antarctic research base in the 1950s.
We left Detaille and headed further south. Our destination was The Gullet, a narrow passage between Adelaide Island and the Arrowsmith Peninsula of the Antarctic Peninsula, itself. For much of the season it is ice-clogged and impassable. As we approached, the bay narrowed and some doubted that there really was a way through. Soon we encountered wind whistling through the passage and the ship’s bridge was filled to capacity with eager observers. We made it through – we believe the first traverse of The Gullet by any ship this season. The Gullet opens up into a wide, glacier-lined amphitheater. Today it was visible in brilliant clarity all around us. We boarded our Zodiacs to cruise around icebergs of all shapes and sizes. On low, flat floes of sea ice left over from last winter we found crabeater seals, tolerant of our close approach and not at all interested in leaving the comfort of the floes for the cold water. Cameras clicked. The ride was enhanced by a visit of the choco-barge offering farthest-south refreshments.
We continued on, and over dinner confirmed that the National Geographic Endeavour does have the finest view of any restaurant in the world! We turned around at our “farthest-south” of 67°19.1’ S, and headed back northward, content with a very full day in the Antarctic.
Full, but not at all over! As we reached the area where we had earlier cruised by Zodiac we encountered a cafuffle of seabirds – large numbers of giant petrels, kelp gulls, skuas, and Wilson’s storm-petrels feeding very actively over a large grease-slick on the water. The source of the slick became apparent when we saw three orca or killer whales circling the area. A seal – still alive - had taken temporary refuge under a small iceberg (or bergy-bit), but to no avail. Whales one; seal zero. It appears that the whales traveled underwater with their prey before devouring it, for several more slicks rose to the surface, each time bringing another burst of seabird feeding as they devoured the scraps. It was an intense moment. And so to bed.
The Antarctic Circle: an imaginary line that circles the globe at 66°33’ South. At this latitude the sun dips to the horizon at midnight on mid-summer night, 21 December, and then it rises again. In mid-winter, 21 June, the sun just fails to rise. Beyond the Antarctic Circle one enters the land of the Midnight Sun in summer and of Noonday Darkness in winter. Its northern counterpart, the Arctic Circle, is easily reached. Daily commercial jet flights arrive at any number of destinations north of the Arctic Circle, summer and winter. The Antarctic Circle is different. There are no commercial flights. To reach it requires a stout and sturdy ship, strengthened against the southern ice, and a bold crew to navigate her; a ship like our National Geographic Endeavour.
This morning we did what few other travelers do when we crossed the Antarctic Circle on our way to our morning destination: a small and snow-covered island named Detaille. Here in 1956 the Falkland Islands Dependency Survey (FIDS – later to become the British Antarctic Survey) established Base W to support regional research. It turned out to be a poor choice, as the sea ice surrounding the island was insecure and unpredictable. In fact, the ship coming to remove base personnel in March 1959 could get no closer than 30 miles. The departing men (for at that time only men could serve on British bases) departed on sledges with only minimal personal effects and records, and the station was abandoned. It exists pretty much as it was left 50 years ago, with clothing hanging on nails and provisions (lots of oatmeal!) in the cupboards. Our visit gave a window into life on an Antarctic research base in the 1950s.
We left Detaille and headed further south. Our destination was The Gullet, a narrow passage between Adelaide Island and the Arrowsmith Peninsula of the Antarctic Peninsula, itself. For much of the season it is ice-clogged and impassable. As we approached, the bay narrowed and some doubted that there really was a way through. Soon we encountered wind whistling through the passage and the ship’s bridge was filled to capacity with eager observers. We made it through – we believe the first traverse of The Gullet by any ship this season. The Gullet opens up into a wide, glacier-lined amphitheater. Today it was visible in brilliant clarity all around us. We boarded our Zodiacs to cruise around icebergs of all shapes and sizes. On low, flat floes of sea ice left over from last winter we found crabeater seals, tolerant of our close approach and not at all interested in leaving the comfort of the floes for the cold water. Cameras clicked. The ride was enhanced by a visit of the choco-barge offering farthest-south refreshments.
We continued on, and over dinner confirmed that the National Geographic Endeavour does have the finest view of any restaurant in the world! We turned around at our “farthest-south” of 67°19.1’ S, and headed back northward, content with a very full day in the Antarctic.
Full, but not at all over! As we reached the area where we had earlier cruised by Zodiac we encountered a cafuffle of seabirds – large numbers of giant petrels, kelp gulls, skuas, and Wilson’s storm-petrels feeding very actively over a large grease-slick on the water. The source of the slick became apparent when we saw three orca or killer whales circling the area. A seal – still alive - had taken temporary refuge under a small iceberg (or bergy-bit), but to no avail. Whales one; seal zero. It appears that the whales traveled underwater with their prey before devouring it, for several more slicks rose to the surface, each time bringing another burst of seabird feeding as they devoured the scraps. It was an intense moment. And so to bed.
