Brown Bluff, Fridtjof Sound, Antarctic Sound, Antarctica
With the wind at Force 5 from the South and icy snow coating the decks, dawn found the National Geographic Endeavour weaving her way through the fog amidst icebergs and bergy bits. The decision was made to head to Brown Bluff, a landing right at the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula. At first, we couldn't see much from the ship and the conditions were far from pleasant as we made our way ashore. But we did NOT come to Antarctica to get a tan; we came to experience and appreciate the real Antarctic. It was cold and windy with bright fresh snow covering the imposing landscape. Dark cliffs hung with icicles rose up behind the beach. A quintessential Antarctic landing.
From a seemingly inauspicious beginning, our trip to Brown Bluff proved to be really quite wonderful. “This is what I thought it would be like all the time” was a thought shared by many. Above the beach, penguins hunched over with their backs to the wind and male Antarctic fur seals were plentiful, some trying to sleep in the driving snow, looking quite a bit like the wind-shaped sandstone rocks scattered around the area behind the beach. The fur seals occasionally charged each other, emitting eerie whimpering sounds and grabbing the neck fur of each other in their fights over resting areas. There was also a curious Weddell seal, which swam right along the beach and around an ice floe. At least one leopard seal also lurked right offshore.
The beach itself was full of action. Tobogganing penguins! Marching penguins! Penguins coming in from the sea and penguins heading out. It was a wonderful place to plunk down and just allow the action to surround you. Most of the gentoo penguins on the beach were actually chicks; fledged chicks. They had acquired a mature sea–worthy coat of feathers, replacing the fluffy down which served to keep them warm at the nest. The parents stop feeding them and the young have no choice but to go to the ocean and try their hand at catching krill and fish. They are not led there, and the parents do not teach them how to feed. They simply know by instinct, and also by following the lead of others who look like they know what they are doing. Penguins 'fly' through the water with their stiff board–like wings, and the chicks spend quite a bit of time flapping about on shore, as if in preparation for their life at sea. We also had a few stout adult Adélies and several chicks. Many of these chicks still had grey down clinging to their feathers in peculiar patterns. The Adélies generally leave the colony at the end of the breeding season and the Gentoos generally stay, which is why there were so many Gentoos.
Many who arrived at Brown Bluff thinking they'd stay just a little found it hard to pull away. The Zodiacs then brought us through a stunning field of blue bergs before heading back to our warm and toasty ship. After lunch we cruised through Fridtjof Sound, a passage between Andersson Island and the Peninsula, known for its currents which tend to concentrate krill and fish. In addition to the tremendous ice bergs we were lucky enough (with keen eyes on the bridge) to see a pod of Orca whales. This group of 13 animals included a few calves, several females and immatures and at least one large male, distinguished by his enormous triangular dorsal fin. They cruised around the icebergs, apparently feeding on krill and eventually were joined by two enormous humpback whales. At more than one point, there were orcas actually swimming under the National Geographic Endeavour's bow, giving us a rare, intimate look at these “wolves of the sea.”
The day ended as we cruised through more fantastic ice out into Antarctic Sound, heading up into the Bransfield Strait and onward to Elephant Island.
With the wind at Force 5 from the South and icy snow coating the decks, dawn found the National Geographic Endeavour weaving her way through the fog amidst icebergs and bergy bits. The decision was made to head to Brown Bluff, a landing right at the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula. At first, we couldn't see much from the ship and the conditions were far from pleasant as we made our way ashore. But we did NOT come to Antarctica to get a tan; we came to experience and appreciate the real Antarctic. It was cold and windy with bright fresh snow covering the imposing landscape. Dark cliffs hung with icicles rose up behind the beach. A quintessential Antarctic landing.
From a seemingly inauspicious beginning, our trip to Brown Bluff proved to be really quite wonderful. “This is what I thought it would be like all the time” was a thought shared by many. Above the beach, penguins hunched over with their backs to the wind and male Antarctic fur seals were plentiful, some trying to sleep in the driving snow, looking quite a bit like the wind-shaped sandstone rocks scattered around the area behind the beach. The fur seals occasionally charged each other, emitting eerie whimpering sounds and grabbing the neck fur of each other in their fights over resting areas. There was also a curious Weddell seal, which swam right along the beach and around an ice floe. At least one leopard seal also lurked right offshore.
The beach itself was full of action. Tobogganing penguins! Marching penguins! Penguins coming in from the sea and penguins heading out. It was a wonderful place to plunk down and just allow the action to surround you. Most of the gentoo penguins on the beach were actually chicks; fledged chicks. They had acquired a mature sea–worthy coat of feathers, replacing the fluffy down which served to keep them warm at the nest. The parents stop feeding them and the young have no choice but to go to the ocean and try their hand at catching krill and fish. They are not led there, and the parents do not teach them how to feed. They simply know by instinct, and also by following the lead of others who look like they know what they are doing. Penguins 'fly' through the water with their stiff board–like wings, and the chicks spend quite a bit of time flapping about on shore, as if in preparation for their life at sea. We also had a few stout adult Adélies and several chicks. Many of these chicks still had grey down clinging to their feathers in peculiar patterns. The Adélies generally leave the colony at the end of the breeding season and the Gentoos generally stay, which is why there were so many Gentoos.
Many who arrived at Brown Bluff thinking they'd stay just a little found it hard to pull away. The Zodiacs then brought us through a stunning field of blue bergs before heading back to our warm and toasty ship. After lunch we cruised through Fridtjof Sound, a passage between Andersson Island and the Peninsula, known for its currents which tend to concentrate krill and fish. In addition to the tremendous ice bergs we were lucky enough (with keen eyes on the bridge) to see a pod of Orca whales. This group of 13 animals included a few calves, several females and immatures and at least one large male, distinguished by his enormous triangular dorsal fin. They cruised around the icebergs, apparently feeding on krill and eventually were joined by two enormous humpback whales. At more than one point, there were orcas actually swimming under the National Geographic Endeavour's bow, giving us a rare, intimate look at these “wolves of the sea.”
The day ended as we cruised through more fantastic ice out into Antarctic Sound, heading up into the Bransfield Strait and onward to Elephant Island.
