Trying to Keep Up

Sunday, November 27
12:20 PM
Deception Island



Now 12:25.... OK, let's do this later.

4:00 PM ("later")
At sea, en route to the Antarctic Sound

Adventurous day at Deception Island! (And beyond, which is why this journal entry has been put off several times today.) The island is an active volcano, with a steep and craggy shoreline and very choppy waves. As we approached, small rock formations jutted out from the sea, just off shore (think Goonies rock), dubbed "sewing machine needles" by one map.

Now we had to get on land. A zodiac jaunt worthy of a big-bang wham-bam amusement park thrill ride slammed us up onto the pebble and pumice beach of Baily Head. This is a huge, as in hundreds-of-thousands huge chinstrap penguin colony, and our landing site was actually an on-ramp to the penguin highway. Access to the sea is limited because of the aforementioned steep shoreline, so there is literally a thoroughfare of penguins marching in line to get there. They appear to abide by conventional rules of the road, one lane heading to the sea, one lane heading back. It was a very orderly operation — no fenderbenders so far as I could tell.







We merged onto the highway when there was a gap in traffic (with the odd chinstrap here or there stopping to let us pass). Initially I thought the chinstraps weren't as cute as the gentoos or adelies. However, their little stout, old-man waddle-waddle-hop routine won me over. But jeez, these guys littered every single melted surface of the mountain, hundreds of feet above sea level some of them. I think there are about 100,000 nesting pairs at this site. PAIRS.



After mingling with the birds for an hour or so, we got to the main event: a four-mile hike from Baily Head to Whaler's Bay. (We had the option of getting back on the ship and sailing around to the next landing, or walking there. I needed the exercise.) Vanessa and I signed on, and Mr. Mount Everest came along, too. I hiked with Mount Everest! He and I were the only ones to slip on the loose earth at the beginning. Many of the folks along were seriously experienced hikers, and then there was me. The first icy, sleek, slick, steep, loose incline had me thinking I made the wrong choice in hiking it, but about halfway up, when we hit the snow, I hit my stride. Even with my nose running like a faucet.



Our maximum elevation was about 1,000 feet above sea level. The "Survivial of the Fittest" walk took us over snow, ice, dirt, volcanic ash, streams, guano, mud, fog, and sand. I got a little lonely and desperate along the way, mostly because of my stupid snotting nose. Nothing worse than being sickish 15,000 miles from home in friggin' Antarctica. But I pressed on! (Oh yeah, and saw a leopard seal chasing some penguins from up above. Think he got one.)



Kevin our hiking leader (and resident Ice Guy) is a fun/ny dude. Geoff the Geologist was along for the walk, too, as were George, JD, and Karen. The staff here is really excellent, if I haven't said that yet. Googling all of them when I get home. I need to get brilliant at something. I want to do this and get paid.

Back to the story... We made it through the cold and fog and wind to the pinnacle, the crater of the volcano, really. With timing that couldn't be more perfect, we made our descent down into Whaler's Bay just as the ship bearing all the non-hikers sailed through Neptune's Bellows.




vanessa and the hiking crew

After peeking at some nesting sheathbills through Neptune's Window, I headed down to the beach. Whale bones strewn all about. Abandoned hangars, warehouses, and equipment sat rusting away. An eruption in the late 60s (or maybe early 70s) wiped out the station and extended the coastline, so all the buildings sit oddly inland.







I got real tired, real fast, and needed to blow my nose a lot, so I came back to the ship, warmed up, and ate lunch. And two slices of key lime pie.

Just upon getting settled in (and warmed), it was Antarctic swim time at Pendulum Cove. Being a volcanic island, Deception has some hot springs. The water was boiling at the edge, but barely above freezing five feet out. I had no desire to join the polar swimmer's club, so I snapped pics of the swimmers from shore. Thirty-four in total took the plunge. On the zodiac ride back to the ship, we spied a snoozing crabeater seal.







Now we're on the ship, headed... somewhere. There's a talk in about ten minutes, the historian. He's a great storyteller. We all sit transfixed as he tells the tales of Antarctic expeditions past. After his talk, there's a photography presentation that I've been looking forward to hearing/seeing.

Lonnnnnnng day.