Shopping in Antarctica

Saturday, November 26
11:00 AM
Port Lockeroy, approx. 64º S

Just got back on board. it's only 11 and already I'm exhausted from four hours of activity. Dressing in all that gear saps up a lot of energy. First landing spot was Dorian Bay / Wiencke Island. More gentoo penguins (and the associated stink), a few skuas, and an old hut used by the British Antarctic Survey now maintained and stocked for use as an emergency refuge. Geoff the Geologist worked here back in the 1960s and 70s, and his photo is still on the wall!

Beyond the hut, there was a 250-foot hill, the top of which is actually several hundred yards of an ice flat that is the runway / landing strip for planes bringing supplies. The intrepid and adventurous among us (which usually I am, but once again I was afflicted with frozen toes and a sniffly nose) made the long trek halfway up the mountain ridge that began its ascent at the end of the airstrip. The view was marvelous in all directions, at all heights, so I don't feel like I missed out on too much.



The swiftly shifting clouds exposed and concealed the electric sun, making for constant set changes in the landscape below. Think Monet and Rouen, then take all of his paintings of the cathedral, at all those times of day and year, put them in a flip book and fan it out. That's about how rapidly and drastically the scenery changed. Who knew static mountains could be so dynamic? In a matter of an hour, there were dozens of shutter-tickling views, mountaintops poking in and out through the clouds. The color of the water also morphed from a steely gray, to indigo, to navy.

When I couldn't take the cold anymore, I hopped in a zodiac for a nice, wet, bumpy, freezing ride over to Port Lockeroy, a smaller island around the corner from the Bay. It's a British station still in use, though primarily as a tourist trap. Tourist trap! In Antarctica! But they do have a post office, so I sent off about two dozen postcards via the British P.O. (Once ashore, we learned that the ship marks up postage 150%...)



The landing dropped us right in the heart of a gentoo rookery. Closest I've been to a penguin yet, I think. (Can't help breaking the fifteen-feet rule if it's physically not possible.)

The island is rather small, so after a bit of shopping (more postcards) and shooting (more penguins) I came back to the boat. I'm feeling a little sickly and tired, not to mention hungry, so I haven't been very vocal or fun or sociable today. Antarctica's kicking my ass a bit. One hour to lunch.