Update from Elizabeth
Today we sail from Port Lockroy, now headed north for the first time. Lockroy is home to a perfectly preserved 1950’s British base, a staff of brilliant volunteers, the world’s most southerly post office, and, as always, innumerable Gentoos – now with fluffy, stumbling chicks tucked into their nests.
This Antarctic summer has been a rainy season, but we’re gifted brilliant blue skies as we head out through the Gerlache Strait. Much of our day is spent on deck enjoying the sunshine and the visiting humpbacks, who obligingly breach and tail flip in mirrorlike waters before the starkly beautiful peaks of the coastline.
As we sail into the Melchior Islands, the scenery’s astounding: vast white ice cliffs, iron-colored outcrops of rock, fur seals at play in the snow. Ocean Tramp slips easily into a private, sheltered inlet and we moor to the rocks. On every side the ice rises high and close, with its hypnotic whorls and patterns in striated shades of white, cream, and azure. In the distance grey mist wreathes peaked ranges, but we still have blue skies and calm, clear waters.
Time to bust out the kayaks.
As we paddle slowly through this hidden bay, we’re enveloped in Antarctica’s immense silence. Impossible not to be awed and to feel so very, very lucky. Every now and then a Zodiac from a nearby cruise ship (these big guys are stuck outside in the open water) zips by. We feel smug; our ride’s infinitely cooler.
For most of these few hours, though: nothing here but us, our kayaks, the quiet slice of a paddle, the vast bright expanse of snow and ice…and an occasional curious seal head popping up from the water.
We round out the day properly, with a few glasses of wine on the deck. The light turns pink and gold. By tomorrow evening we’ll be at Deception Island.
