Date of Entry:  February 28th 2016

Date of Writing: April 21st 2016, Art Factory Hostel Palermo, Buenos Aires, Argentina.

I wake up early and am dismayed to find that I’m feeling pretty damn under the weather, it’s not seasickness, but my throat is enflamed and sore and I’m coughing a lot, and to add to that I have next to no energy.  Still I’m up for our 7 am departure time and I’m doing my best to do my part to get us out of Lockroy. The storm has passed overnight but the skies have been left a deep grey colour and rain is intermittent  which is somewhat unfortunate.

I stay out working on deck until about 11 or 12.  Working sparingly I should say as once we get going in the mostly calm waters there’s not that much to do, but I’m trying to watch for whales alongside some small sailing tasks as the autopilot mixed with Darrel guides us towards the Melchiors. Around 12 the horrible sick feeling in my throat is cresting like a wave on the drake and I retreat to bed, hopeful that a few more hours of rest might help me recapture form to allow me to fully enjoy my last few days in Antarctica.

I pass out quickly but wake up groggy to a call from outside.  I don’t feel all that much better but I force myself to roll out of my top bunk past the lee sheets which keep me from rolling out as we sail and begin pulling on a few of my cold weather clothes and my life jacket, forgetting many layers because the call is repeated, and it’s whales.  So forget the cold,  I put on the bare minimum and stumble out to the deck only just remembering to grab my camera.

The weather is still pretty grim, which is a shame for photos, but stops mattering for the experience when I see two different groups of humpback whales logging (essentially sleeping)  on either side of us not too far off.

Darrel has killed the engine and soon more and more whales come in to sight, some sleeping, but lots swimming and even diving flashing us their impressive tails before disappearing for minutes at a time.  They’re all humpbacks, and the longer we remain the more seem to arrive and pop up all around us.

 

Catching a whale tail in photos can be tough, especially when it’s raining, and I’ll admit I more or less cheated today, switching my camera to multi shot mode leading me to take over 5000 photos throughout the day ( a record even for me)  because as we continue through inky black crill rich waters towards the melchiors the whales don’t disappear, in fact we find more and more of them.  It’s downright incredible and by the time the day is through it’s certainly the most whales I’ve ever seen, including a trip whale watching in the south of Nova Scotia before this travel life ever really began where I spent hours amongst about 40 humpbacks in a tiny zodiac with an ex.

As we continue on puttering slowly towards the Melchior islands utterly distracted by the incredible spectacle of life all around us, I grin.  The whales are literally everywhere you look, some fairly close by, some in the distant foggy abyss. Watching the horizon it becomes almost expected to see a whale tail disappearing below the surface no matter which way you look.  It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced and Darrel looks supremely happy.  He tells me, though I’m not sure I believe him, that this is what a  good normal day in antarctica is like most years in February. Well we might not have had that experience, but at least we get a day of it now.  I’m not sure my mind could handle a month of this honestly.

We keep moving slowly through the vast expanse of water, and eventually a curious whale calf and it’s mother approach our boat, the baby no doubt wondering what on earth this giant metal floating whale could be.  The mother tolerates the calfs curiosity and they drift along with us for quite some time, edging closer and closer much to the delight of everyone up on deck busy snapping photos and marvelling at just how close an encounter this has become.  Though the smell of whales breath is admittedly horrible, it only adds to the experience in the end.

At one point we make a cardinal mistake, though really it was more on the mum and baby whale than anything we did, as they separate and emerge on either side of the boat.  Now, a general rule of nature and all animals is don’t get between a parent and it’s baby, it’s just a dangerous situation to stumble into.  Strangely though, the two whales seem perfectly calm as we drift between them and do our best to make absolutely no sudden moves while maneuvering back to a position with both whales on one side of us. Because folks, whales are big, and if the mother freaks out our 55 foot vessel could be in some real trouble.

She doesn’t lose her cool though and we eventually get them both on our right side, the mother giving us a fin show, spinning huge amounts of water with her massive fin before doing something truly incredible and spy hopping right beside out bow, repeating the action several times for photos.  This is the most incredible thing I’ve seen whales do in person, though breaching is pretty incredible too and i was treated to a show of that in northern Peru last fall.

Why the whales do this spy hopping thing is beyond me scientifically, though I’m sure google could answer it, still I prefer to think of it as a friendly hello, a tip of the cap and a closer examination of a hopefully friendly face.  Either way it’s an incredible moment and one I will never forget, looking eye to eye into the face of a giant humpback just a couple of meters away.

Eventually the mother and baby start to lose interest in us, so rather than overstay our welcome we move on, me worried we’re leaving the whales behind, but today it seems like that might be impossible to do. They are literally everywhere and soon enough we’ve got a few more small groups swimming around us and diving down deep for more Tail shots.

But the whale fun is far from over, which by now is probably not the biggest surprise to you all. This is turning into the day of whales and I’m pretty sure by the end of the day I’ve seen between 50-100 whales, though I did stay out on deck longer than most.  But back to the fun not being over.

Today we’ve already seen logging, diving, spy hopping, which leaves just one missing from the big 4 of whale activities, the elusive breaching, but today, with whales, luck is with us. Up ahead a humpback suddenly explodes up out of the water, crashing back down with a thunderous clap as the massive body hits the water. I catch only the end of this is my vision, but luckily the whale repeats the process a few times in a row (Darrel says his record is in the 90’s in terms of repeated jumps)  and though the lone jumper is still quite distant I do manage to get a few photos as I stand awestruck watching this enormous beast explode out of the water four times in a row.  The most impressive part is that scientists have yet to prove why the whales do this, and I like to think that it’s the simplest of the proposed answer, because it’s fun.

As we get closer to the playful whale it frustratingly stops it’s cycle of breaching and dives down deeply leaving us behind. Oh well, while we don’t see any more breachers we haven’t left the whales behind, though as we continue into a slightly narrower channel a few less surround us and one by one everyone goes down below deck. I do too, but just to get the rest of my cold weather gear.  There’s whales, that means i’m out for the long haul.

As we keep sailing towards the Melchiors the weather slowly starts to clear and while the whales do start to appear less frequently that’s made up for by massive groups of swimming seals and penguins (both Gentoos and Chinstraps)  moving in violent torrents across the seas. Apparently all the crill that’s been missing from the waters our last three weeks in Antarctica have found new homes here, and it’s a veritable feeding frenzy, the whole place bursting with life around us.  It’s incredible and there’s a firmly fixed all but permanent grin plastered to my face.  Trust me, Antarctica is awesome, and if you have the money to get here (a big if I know), then it’s worth it.

As the penguins and seals start to thin the whales come back, lots more off to our left though most of us are below deck I’m still out at the bow taking more photos and enjoying the incredible action of this place, the waters dark and murky yet so full of life.  I’m also watching for chunks of ice and helping to direct the boat.  And this leads to problems.

I spot a whale some distance ahead, almost a straight line really but quite some distance and it’s swimming away from us so I pay it no special attention beyond you know, being amazed by the whale.  Well it dives and I switch to looking for others until suddenly it surfaces just in front of our boat, maybe 10 meters away and on a direct collision course with us.

I signal desperately for josh back in the cockpit to change directions and we start to pull to port but as the whales comes closer and closer I know we’re going to hit it if the whale doesn’t help us out too.

I hold my breath for an instant that feels a lot longer as the distance between us closes, the whale not seeming so be aware we’re about to collide.  At the last moment, with maybe a meter between the hull of the Spirit of Sydney and the humpback it executes a sudden and violent turn to our starboard, narrowly missing our hull, and luckily also not panicking too much which could have been just as bad for us.  I’m the only one out on the bow, the only one who knows how close we came to a serious whale collision.  Of all the accidents I thought I’d have to watch for in my life, sailboat and whale was not one I expected to have to worry about.  Well I guess I’m leading that kind of life.

As we finally reach the Melchior base, another Argentinean settlement we keep on right on sailing into a small bay and dropping anchor in a little protected bay some distance from the base, struggling to find the exact right place a little but finally getting it done, and, after a quick picarita (meal between lunch and dinner)  we decide to head out in the zodiac towards the base with Josh, while Darrel begins some of the work to get the boat ready to cross the Drake again.  I’m still feeling very sick and the idea of experiencing the drake and 24 hour watch schedules is sounding less and less appealing.  Maybe we can just stay in Antarctica.

The sun has finally broken through and while I’m thrilled to see it I do wish it had shown it’s face a little earlier, still it’s a welcome change as we approach the base and check out a few decent sized icebergs covered with seals and plunging down deep underwater giving the ocean an incredible turquoise colour, only the ice itself reminding me we’re in Antarctica and not the Caribbean.

As we head over to join Tash, Matt, Enora and James on land we realize we’ve had a slight tactical miscalculation as we look up at them set up with snowballs all but laughing maniacally as they start there assault.  We’re screwed as there’s no snowballs in the boat but Josh gets us to shore quickly and I lead the charge up, unloading snowball after snowball as only a Canadian (and maybe people from other cold countries) can.

After the intensity of the snowball fight I leave the others behind for a few moments and head over to the point of land near the base climbing over some rocks and a narrow piece above the water level out onto an outcropping of rocks covered in a perfect mix of Chinstraps and Gentoos who watch me quizzically.  The dinner plate style iceberg floating by covered in so many seals doesn’t hurt the view either, and I even snap some photos of a penguin checking out his reflection in the water a bit.

Eventually I leave the wildlife behind and head back to my friends who are busy playing in snow.  We’ve discovered that this base closed for the season earlier this morning from the last note in the base log and together we take some time to explore and of course spend more time playing with the snow.  Tash may kill me for putting the tiger photo up but I think it’s something the world just needs to see.

We Go in to the parts of the base that aren’t locked up together and check it out.  It turns out that every winter the base actually leaves a house full of supplies and food and gas and beds in case a boat has problems and needs shelter there, which I find pretty damn cool.

Eventually though with the sun sinking low in the sky which happens much earlier than when we first arrived in Antarctica it’s time to head back.  Ulises Mariana and I are part of the second group to go with Josh and so we take the chance to get back the others pummelling them with snowballs as they leave. It’s the amazing thing about antarctica, I find it brings out everyone inner child just a little bit, especially when on a small boat like this, and, in my humble opinion, that is one of the most valuable aspects of travel.

Eventually Josh comes back for us and we climb on board heading back across sparkling waters bathed in the glow of a sinking sun. Considering how today started, waking up sick as a dog to a rainy day, it’s certainly turned around pretty dramatically.  Countless whales, penguins seals, one hell of a snow ball fight, and while I still feel sick I’ll admit I barely care, except in those rare empty moments when my mind wanders to crossing the drake, oh well that is a worry for the future.

As we head back we get a radio call fro Darrel to pick up some ice for some more glacial gin and tonic’s back on board.  Once again the job falls to the crazy Canadian so I reach in up to the elbows and haul out another massive piece of ice which is much heavier than it looks.

As we’re heading back to the Spirit of Sydney all very hungry and excited for another feast (seriously I’ve been shocked the whole trip by the level of food we’ve made and been able to cram onto this far from giant boat and sadly in the month easily gained 5 kg (which I’ve since lost again))  Josh suddenly stars steering the Zodiac away from the boat.  We’re all puzzled until he says he thinks he’s spotted a leopard seal swimming out towards us and promptly kills the engine to let us drift closer.

Sure enough he’s not wrong and we see our second leopard seal but the first for everyone in the zodiac but me.  The surprisingly friendly predator approaches us slowly and proceeds to start playing with us, swimming all around the zodiac and popping it’s head up at random place, dancing in the water all around us.  Through careful use of the engine and a lot of coaxing we even manage to bring our new friend over to the boat with us, calling the others so everyone gets a good chance to see this graceful predator glide through the water around us.

Darrel is nervous for the zodiac as apparently this cuddly yet ferocious seals have a habit of gnawing through the rubber causing a very serious problem so once we empty out onto the main boat we haul the zodiac up for the night.  Eventually the sea grows board with us and takes a nice very red and undigested poop in the waters beside us before heading back to some rocks a good distance away where he seems to enjoy hanging out.  We’re all thrilled with the incredibleness of the past hours and settle in for a delicious barbecue for bed.

During dinner Darrel announces that the weather is looking decent, and that if all goes to plan tomorrow will be our last full day in Antarctica.  A collective groan passes through the table, though we’re all glad about the decent weather it seems hard to imagine leaving this frozen wonderland behind.  But I suppose all god things must end, and at least we still have one more day!  Besides Patagonia is back there waiting for me.