OCEAN TRAMP
Heavenly Hiking Antarctica
Jacqueline Husebo
The twilight hours brought encompassing beauty. Quiet hues of blue, lavender, and pink, with varying shades according to the compass, surrounded our yacht as we journeyed toward our destination, Deception Island. From the
hush of the sunset in the west, we only had to look 40 degrees to the east to see the glimmer of the sun and the promise of a new day. Glowing icebergs and whale flukes occasionally interrupted the pastel horizon. My being was
overwhelmed with this magnificent created world.
As we slowly entered the volcano’s flooded crater at 1:15, rays of light bounced off the towering rocks to give us an “other-worldly” welcome, and, indeed, we would soon find this island to be a step into another time and place. After the crew had safely anchored the boat in Whalers Bay and most had taken to dreaming (especially Fiona in vivid detail – we would be sure to hear about it on the morrow), Damian asked me, still taking photographs,
if I would be interested in a ride to the shore to see the sunrise through Neptune’s Window. Naturally, I would never pass up any opportunity for another adventure! It happened that Damian caught David on his way into his cabin, and so the three of us started out for the mysterious island.
Landing on the black sand at around 2:15, we walked with diligence around the shoreline in order that we would not miss the austral rising of the sun. Thousands of dead krill formed an outline where the tide had brought them
ashore through the water warmed by the still active volcano. Penguins waddled passively by, skuas cast their foreboding glances, and giant southern petrels and kelp gulls sailed on the winds above. There was a
stillness about this setting that lent a sombre attitude, if not an eerie one. Stories of times past were written here, and they unfolded before us on the beach. It was true that our footsteps impressed the dark ground, but our
minds were rising in wonder. Circles of staves from wooden barrels lie partially buried in the sand. The track of a lava flow crossed the arena, and the randomly placed golden lava rocks gave pause. Two wooden boats, abandoned, spoke of the whaler’s lives. Scattered whalebones spoke of the countless whales’ deaths. Empty blubber oil tanks and once busy workhouses now stood silent on the landscape.
Still pursuing the imminent sunrise under Captain Damian’s steadfast lead, the three of us briskly walked up the hill to Neptune’s Window. Only a moment after we arrived, the sun shone its face and enveloped our side of the earth with its brilliant yellows and oranges. What a glorious sight!
Five o’clock brought needed sleep for all. Then mid-morning, the cruise ship cancelled, and a shore excursion was made possible for everyone. It was a time where we could also peek into the doorways and shattered windows to add texture to our story of whales and whalers gone by.
With the mountains calling us to climb them, Caesar led David, Gaya, Fiona, Bass, Helen and me up one of the hills in the afternoon for a three-hour exploration of the area opposite the crater’s opening to the Bransfield Strait. David and Gaya, ever seeking higher ground, went to the summit of a solely black sand hill. Bass and Fiona finished with a casual walk down. As options were considered for the remaining time, the rest of us decided to climb to the snowy mount of about 270 meters. The seasoned and fearless foursome ahead of me led the way over rocks and snow and ice and all things Lord of the Rings! The geological formations unfolded in great detail as we ascended. So many questions to ask! (Each was noted for our individual “google list” of things to look up when we have wifi again.) However, I was able to promptly determine that the “pretty dirty snow” looked like cookies and cream ice cream – causing us all to crave the same. Trailblazers, David and Gaya, made deeper imprints for me to follow on the ever-increasing incline. Sometimes on all four and relinquishing my dear SLR camera to more capable hands (thank you, Caesar), I was determined to summit. Turning around to my watchful companions, I told Caesar and Helen that traditional family golf cart rides after dinner held a sharp contrast to this new endeavour! A novice to mountain hiking, I can only thank my four friends for their encouragement and patience. At long last we reached the top! And, oh, was it unbelievable! We all had to stop to take in the breathless view. The vista was from sea to sea.
“He giveth snow like wool: he scattereth the hoarfrost like ashes. He casteth forth his ice like morsels; who can stand before his cold? He sendeth out his word, and melteth them; he causeth his wind to blow, and the waters flow.” Psalm 147
Keeping us off the false edge upon the ridge and providing hiking knowledge at every turn, my experienced friends led us safely down once again to the slumbering seals at the shore where Damian arrived on the inflatable and ushered us back to the yacht.
As an aside, I give many thanks to Captain Damian for his thoughtful, perceptive, and competent leadership on our southern hemisphere expedition. His calm and respectful manner, along with his Irish humor, set an indelible tone that could only effect success for the weeks that we would all be together on one small vessel in Antarctica. Niall, Caesar and Lucy followed with good cheer and expertise to make this an experience that none of us
will soon forget.
So we arrived at Ocean Tramp to once more sanitize our muck boots and retire our life jackets. Lucy had meanwhile been working up a surprise for all of us. Upon arrival at the boat, a grand display of gin and tonic and lemon
slices was nicely presented on the “grocery store” bench. This was topped off by an arrangement of the ice balls that each of us had collected in the cave off Spert Island. I was invited to smash mine with a winch handle and the resulting Antarctic “ice cubes” gave new meaning to our glacial cocktails. An exuberant toast was made with smiles and laughs all around.
What were we toasting to? Still being alive, of course!
Blog & Photo – Jackie Husebo
