Paulet Island & Joinville Island, Antarctica
Early morning and the clouds sat low on the horizon truncating the world around us, creating a panoramic view. Dundee Island blended with the sky except for the fractured face of its ice cap that formed a frill at the base of the misty white curtain above. The whole scene seemed two dimensional, like a painting with a band of dark water and splashes of white ice. It is hard to say at what point we became incorporated into this tranquil scene. Maybe it was when the dark ovoid shapes scattered about became rafts of snorkeling Adélie penguins. Can they really peer into the depths and know just when to dive in pursuit of food? Or maybe it was when the water took on a cross-hatched texture like a basket weave and the penguins became white torpedoes beneath the surface. Paulet Island, patterned in black and white as checkered as a pintado’s back, drew us forward. Ice floes bearing penguins by the dozens embraced our hull and we became participants in this new world.
Penguins on ice had to be the theme of the morning. Although we strolled the rocky shores of Paulet’s volcanic cone and stood to watch Adélie chicks snuggle beneath their parents, the blue and fanciful shapes of icebergs large and small were really the draw. Well, that might be an exaggeration for it was the cargo they bore that we couldn’t stop watching. Gangs of penguins raced in panic as their personal floe broke apart. But they were skilled and found a hold just as the ice readjusted to its new center of gravity. One could almost hear the words “busy, busy” as a hundred thousand penguin parents commuted to and from the sea toting food for growing chicks and sharing responsibility. A few found themselves delayed. Sadly we found their plight quite humorous. How does one get down from a very tall berg when it is stranded on the shore with no water lapping at its side to safely break the fall? The architecture of their ever changing icy world was as variable as the most modern city although all was decorated solely in shades of blue and white. Flat floes were the means of transport bearing these urban dwellers. Borne on fast moving currents the black and white riders became as blurred as faces in a subway window. Blue-eyed shags flew low like jumbo jets coming in for a landing. Hungry chicks and waiting mates greeted them boisterously.
Not far away Joinville Island could be found, another icy mound but with an inviting prominence and a sheltering bay. Here on Tay Head there was quietude. On land, Weddell seals by the dozens slumbered, singing in their sleep. Open empty spaces pulled us inland to climb a rocky headland or to simply meander about. Adélie penguins dwelt here as well but in hamlet sized numbers only and life somehow seemed just a little mellower. Between the scattered floes and bergs, rafts of yellow kayaks drifted seeking solitude.
Tonight we leave the Weddell Sea and the eastern side of the Antarctic Peninsula. Tomorrow, Christmas Eve, a new phase of our adventure begins.
