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elfsUsually on this cruise when I wake up in the morning the ship is in motion, heading from one location to the next. Despite the incredible array of sensors a modern ship can use to see through even the most terrible weather, they're not much for moving about in the dark, at least not when sailing past icebergs and rocky shores with little more than 100 meters clearance between the hull and the land. We passed a number of other cruise ships along the way, such as the Viking Polaris and the Moldavia Expedition.
Whale Bones
Our next Antarctic stop was Cuverville Island. Cuverville is another massive penguin colony, this time almost entirely made up of Gentoo Penguins. I've been lied to. Gentoo penguins don't build Linux from source code; they don't even use Linux at all!
There were also whale bones scattered across the shore, a testimony to the island's history as a stop for 19th century whaling vessels. It was essentially a rocky shore and we were allowed to follow one of two hiking paths, north or south.
I met some Gentoo penguins. I've been lied to. They don't use Linux at all!
As we walked southward, a penguin walked right into the middle of the pathway and stopped, watching us. Omaha and I and a few of the other guests all sorta piled up in front of him. I decided to name him "Gandalf," since he had decided that We Shall Not Pass. We're not allowed to get within three meters of the penguins, and Gandalf by himself was taking up the two-meter wide path the guides had marked out for us. "Just go around him," the guide said. "You can leave the path if you have to make room for a penguin."
One of the stories going around the guides today is that one of the guests said, "If these are Gentoo penguins, what happened to Gen one?" At first, the guide asked thought it was a joke but, no, apparently the inquirer was dead serious. It's hard to believe some people, people this rich, will take a cruise like this, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see things most people never will, and not learn a damn thing.
Sick of penguins yet?
Omaha and I walked along the rocky beach until we heard Professor Marcel's voice. "Elf! Come here! You have to see this!" I trotted up the hill to where he was standing, and he pointed at... a patch of grass. "Welcome to the rainforests of Antarctica!" He explained that his grass is the only vascular, flowering plant in Antarctica, a tough, hardy grass that flowers and self-pollinates once a year. It is genetically identical to the grass found in Greenland, so the tiny seeds must hitch rides on the birds that migrate from Greenland to the Antarctic Peninsula every year. Those birds must fly a long way because apparently they don't get many rest stops. He also said that if you look closely you might see a tiny white dot moving on the grass; that's the Antarctic mite, one of the few insects that also lives on the continent.
Omaha and I wandered back to the landing zone and took the northern path up to another group of penguins, but also a fur seal just hanging out by herself, trying to get a nap on some rocks just a few meters away from the smelly, noisy penguins and the equally annoying humans who want her picture. None of the Antarctic wildlife are the least bit afraid of humans; these populations are heavily protected and have not experienced the sorts of trauma most animals around the planet have experienced.
Seal Snooze
One of the other things we spotted at Cuverville was a penguin highway, those packed snow tracks penguins create as they move from one part of a colony to another. If you click on that link and look at the image, you'll see just how incredibly long that highway is. Somewhere in that picture is this penguin, but in the first image she's just a tiny dot.
At lunch, an woman who looked to be in her late 60s to mid 70s stood behind me in the smorgasbord queue, and her hair was the colors of the bi-pride flag. I complimented her on it, saying "That's one of my favorite color schemes."
She looked me right in the eye for two seconds, then grinned and said in that whispery voice that says she was part of a conspiracy, "It's one of mine, too." While we were eating, we passed by the Moldavia Expedition a second time.
The afternoon was another Zodiac excursion, this one around Brown Base, the official science outpost Argentina keeps in Antarctica. A lot of countries do, and there's a lot of winking about how it's not really about having a claim when the planet's climate gets dicey and Antarctica starts to look like a viable continent for habitation. Those poor scientists live in the middle of a penguin colony, I can't begin to imagine what that's done to their sense of smell.
It was one of the lovelier Zodiac excursions, too. As we were passing the base proper, I spotted something moving in the water, pointed. "Whale!" And sure enough, it was a Humpback, a fairly large one.
Whale Tail
There's a website, Happy Whale, where you can upload photos like this one, seeing the underside of the tail, and the site will identify the whale for you and give you a history of sightings.
At one point, we were about two kilometers from the Pursuit, out on the water far from everything. Antarctica is not silent. The ice cracks constantly, the seabirds are loud, and even when calm the sea makes its own noise. The water is startlingly clear. The air is crisp and clean in a way no part of civilization ever feels like.
I was fairly exhausted after all of that day. Omaha and I hit the sushi bar again that night, and listened to the band play. I think I went to bed early.
Whale Bones
Our next Antarctic stop was Cuverville Island. Cuverville is another massive penguin colony, this time almost entirely made up of Gentoo Penguins. I've been lied to. Gentoo penguins don't build Linux from source code; they don't even use Linux at all!
There were also whale bones scattered across the shore, a testimony to the island's history as a stop for 19th century whaling vessels. It was essentially a rocky shore and we were allowed to follow one of two hiking paths, north or south.
I met some Gentoo penguins. I've been lied to. They don't use Linux at all!
As we walked southward, a penguin walked right into the middle of the pathway and stopped, watching us. Omaha and I and a few of the other guests all sorta piled up in front of him. I decided to name him "Gandalf," since he had decided that We Shall Not Pass. We're not allowed to get within three meters of the penguins, and Gandalf by himself was taking up the two-meter wide path the guides had marked out for us. "Just go around him," the guide said. "You can leave the path if you have to make room for a penguin."
One of the stories going around the guides today is that one of the guests said, "If these are Gentoo penguins, what happened to Gen one?" At first, the guide asked thought it was a joke but, no, apparently the inquirer was dead serious. It's hard to believe some people, people this rich, will take a cruise like this, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see things most people never will, and not learn a damn thing.
Sick of penguins yet?
Omaha and I walked along the rocky beach until we heard Professor Marcel's voice. "Elf! Come here! You have to see this!" I trotted up the hill to where he was standing, and he pointed at... a patch of grass. "Welcome to the rainforests of Antarctica!" He explained that his grass is the only vascular, flowering plant in Antarctica, a tough, hardy grass that flowers and self-pollinates once a year. It is genetically identical to the grass found in Greenland, so the tiny seeds must hitch rides on the birds that migrate from Greenland to the Antarctic Peninsula every year. Those birds must fly a long way because apparently they don't get many rest stops. He also said that if you look closely you might see a tiny white dot moving on the grass; that's the Antarctic mite, one of the few insects that also lives on the continent.
Omaha and I wandered back to the landing zone and took the northern path up to another group of penguins, but also a fur seal just hanging out by herself, trying to get a nap on some rocks just a few meters away from the smelly, noisy penguins and the equally annoying humans who want her picture. None of the Antarctic wildlife are the least bit afraid of humans; these populations are heavily protected and have not experienced the sorts of trauma most animals around the planet have experienced.
Seal Snooze
One of the other things we spotted at Cuverville was a penguin highway, those packed snow tracks penguins create as they move from one part of a colony to another. If you click on that link and look at the image, you'll see just how incredibly long that highway is. Somewhere in that picture is this penguin, but in the first image she's just a tiny dot.
At lunch, an woman who looked to be in her late 60s to mid 70s stood behind me in the smorgasbord queue, and her hair was the colors of the bi-pride flag. I complimented her on it, saying "That's one of my favorite color schemes."
She looked me right in the eye for two seconds, then grinned and said in that whispery voice that says she was part of a conspiracy, "It's one of mine, too." While we were eating, we passed by the Moldavia Expedition a second time.
The afternoon was another Zodiac excursion, this one around Brown Base, the official science outpost Argentina keeps in Antarctica. A lot of countries do, and there's a lot of winking about how it's not really about having a claim when the planet's climate gets dicey and Antarctica starts to look like a viable continent for habitation. Those poor scientists live in the middle of a penguin colony, I can't begin to imagine what that's done to their sense of smell.
It was one of the lovelier Zodiac excursions, too. As we were passing the base proper, I spotted something moving in the water, pointed. "Whale!" And sure enough, it was a Humpback, a fairly large one.
Whale Tail
There's a website, Happy Whale, where you can upload photos like this one, seeing the underside of the tail, and the site will identify the whale for you and give you a history of sightings.
At one point, we were about two kilometers from the Pursuit, out on the water far from everything. Antarctica is not silent. The ice cracks constantly, the seabirds are loud, and even when calm the sea makes its own noise. The water is startlingly clear. The air is crisp and clean in a way no part of civilization ever feels like.
I was fairly exhausted after all of that day. Omaha and I hit the sushi bar again that night, and listened to the band play. I think I went to bed early.
