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Ushuaia, Beagle Channel Sunday, 5th March 2017

On a beautiful summer day at the so-called “end of the world” Ushuaia we set sail towards Antarctic Peninsula on the little red ship which will be our home away from home for the upcoming days. By bus we made our way towards the pier and were welcomed at the gangway by the smiling faces of the ship’s crew. Once we settled in a little, we had our mandatory safety briefing in order to be able to set sail. Excited

and eager to be on the road we all got outside to enjoy the still warm afternoon and watch Ushuaia disappear into the horizon. This start into the adventure that await us was followed by hotel manager Alessandra Malaquias’s briefing about the G Expedition and an introduction to our experienced expedition team on this trip. The word Ushuaia is the adaptation to English from the word Oshovia, which means: “Bay that penetrates towards the sunset” in the old Yaghan language. Many people know Ushuaia as the southernmost town on the planet. However, the Chilean side claims Puerto Williams, a town of their own, to be the southernmost town. Passing through the Beagle Channel, right before and during our first dinner on board, we got a good view on Puerto Williams on our starboard side. The Beagle Channel got its name by Captain Fitzroy of the HMS Beagle in 1870. When Fernando de Magallanes and his fleet arrived in this area on 1st November 1520, he thought that this was a part of the mainland of a new continent not realizing it was a group of islands, so he called the area “Terra Australis Incognita”. The channel he found was called after him, “Magallanes Strait.” Surrounded by Black-browed Albatrosses and some whale spouts, we headed through the Beagle Channel in very calm conditions. After our very first dinner on board, we strolled into the Discovery Lounge once more this day to receive our expedition parkas to be best prepared for our adventure. The rest of the evening we spent exploring the ship and resting to be ready for the wonders ahead of us. Submitted by: Julia Lindow, Geologist Photos: a) G Expedition alongside in Ushuaia, b) “Fin del Mundo” sign in Ushuaia

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Drake Passage Monday, 6th March 2017 Our first day at sea was a calm, gentle ride through the dreaded Drake Passage. While the moderate swells had a few of us (this musician included) still feeling a bit the worse for wear, we pulled together for a day of lectures from our beautiful and talented Expedition Staff. First up, Jackie Deely gave the all-important photography lecture, teaching us the best ways to capture the splendors we’re going to behold in Antarctica – from the rule of thirds to how to get the perfect exposure, as well as how to capture the unique personality of that wily penguin chick you want to (but absolutely cannot) pack in your bag and take home with you. Next up, Diego “The Birdman” Punta Fernandez gave a lecture on the Seabirds of the Southern Ocean, which came in handy later that day as a solid group of birdwatchers gathered to view some of Antarctica’s finest feathered friends, including Cape Petrels and Wilson’s Storm-Petrels. Diego also showed us his highly-technical wingspan measuring tool, which demonstrated the extraordinary wingspan of some of the almost-prehistoric birds we’ll be coming across on our travels. In addition to prepping our intrepid kayakers, Phil gave the group some info on G’s Citizen Science program, which offers the opportunity to participate in projects ranging from cloud observations with NASA to helping identify new kinds of whales.

Then, our resident rock and ice expert, Julia Lindow, taught us why icebergs in Antarctica are blue (hint – it has to do with ice density), the life and times of your average glacier, what makes sea ice, and much more. There’s going to be lots of ice ahead, so you want to know what you’re going to be seeing! After our intrepid Expedition Leader, Sarah Auffret, gave us our first briefing, we finished off the night with a tasty dinner, a documentary from BBC’s Frozen Planet, and some tunes and

drinks up in the Polar Bear Bar. We’re off to a great start, and hoping to make our first landing tomorrow! Submitted by: Andrew Ousley, Musician Photos: a) Drake Sunset, b) Sarah Auffret’s briefing, by Jackie Deely, Photographer in Residence

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At Sea, Aitcho Islands (South Shetlands) Tuesday, 7th March 2017 The Drake Passage is a rite of passage for Antarctic tourists, and is home to some of the most treacherous waters on Earth. Though ships have changed and advanced, the Drake has not. It can still manifest as a terror. So far, our crossing had been benign, and by morning King Neptune’s wrath remained mostly in check. Seas were moderate, and winds were up a bit. Visibility was quite good. The presence of numerous whales (Fins and Humpbacks), the rapidly chilling air, and a scattered assortment of some southern seabirds let us know that we were inching ever closer to the great white continent.

Antarctica is an extreme environment that grants folly no reprieve. However, due to a warming climate and a significant increase in tourism the Crystal Desert is also under threat from invasive species. Certain species of intrusive flora, unable to propagate in Antarctica in the past, have recently begun to gain a foothold in the Antarctic Peninsula region. Certain microbes, most notoriously ones that cause disease in penguins, can be easily spread from one penguin colony to another on the soles of boots. To adequately prepare ourselves and to ameliorate tourism’s impact, we spent the morning attending compulsory IAATO (International Association of Antarctic Tour Operators) and Zodiac briefings and undergoing various bio-security measures.

Shortly after lunch, the G Expedition came to a gentle stop and dropped anchor. With the expansive ice caps of Robert and Greenwich Islands flanking the vista, our vessel was in the middle of the much smaller Aitcho Island group, between Barrientos and Cecilia Islands, in the South Shetlands archipelago. We donned our gear and stepped into Zodiacs for the first time. The air was thick and still, and the waters were predominantly calm. As we approached one or the other of our landing sites on either of the two islands the smell of penguins hit us like a thunderbolt. Thousands of Gentoo and Chinstrap Penguin chicks, on the edge of fledging and taking to the sea for the first time, waddled around the sandy shores. Most of the colony’s adult birds were in the middle of the annual molt. This is a delicate and trying time for the penguins, and we approached them with sensitivity and respect. Within the harsh and unforgiving Antarctic environment lays a certain peace, a balance of forces within which all seems right with the world. This manifested in the most beguiling way, as Gentoo chicks, showing boundless curiosity and no fear, found comfort in checking out our gear and persons. They rested blissfully on or near bags, and even bickered for the right to be near us or on our laps. It was a magical and unforgettable beginning. Submitted by: John Kernan, Biologist Photos: a) Molting penguins, b) Diego ‘Bridman’ Punta Fernandez & curious Gentoo chicks

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Cuverville Island, Paradise Bay (Antarctic Peninsula) Wednesday, 8th March 2017 Call it a blessing. Call it an outpouring of good karma. Call it a cosmic alignment of planets, moons and stars. Whatever happened to trigger such luck, if anything, it was undeniable to anyone present today that we were in the right places at the right times.

We rolled into our anchorage in Errera Channel astounded by the number of whales we were seeing. Humpbacks rolled and cavorted in huge numbers as we settled into place at Cuverville. From the moment we opened the shell doors and lowered the gangways, our interaction with these magnificent creatures was full on. Humpback Whales are known to be some of the most acrobatic, charismatic, and recognizable creatures on the planet. However, it is uncommon that they display such a

marked curiosity. While it is near impossible to explain, we were reveling in how close these behemoth animals came to our puny watercraft. On more than one occasion, guests were eye to eye with some of the biggest animals in existence. Any one of us to experience those encounters came away from it with a sense that these animals harbor more intelligence, grace, and vitality than we could ever give them credit for. The Crabeater Seals were also abnormally in their super-groups of 60 or more individuals. A solid number of holdout Gentoo Penguins crowded the shores of Cuverville Island, and our off-color participants made for nice additions to the lower reaches of the granitic monolith. A short, yet scenic repositioning cruise through the Errera Channel brought us into Paradise Bay. The topography of the area provides one of the best natural harbors on the peninsula, and on a day like today the water was akin to satin. We launched Zodiacs and flew into a split landing, with cruises around Almirante Brown Base for everyone. Some of the cruises made it into Skontorp Cove – a small embayment bristling with white tidewater glacier faces. It was the perfect moment to turn off the engines, get away from the noise, and contemplate a momentous first day on the Peninsula. Our time in Paradise was as brief as it was beautiful, for we had to weigh anchor and head out straight away. Our objective was the Lemaire Channel, and we had to race against the arc of the setting autumn sun in hopes we would catch the famed passage in a state of alpenglow. Once again, our timing was spot on, though our transit through the Lemaire was not without its challenges. The winds howled at a solid 40 knots between the funnel of Booth Island and the mainland coastal range, and there were a few tricky icebergs, which made cause for Captain Sergey Nesterov to show off some of his fancy footwork. There is no doubt, however, that the transit was well worth the effort. The mountains basked in warm hues of orange and pink as fog spun and whirled around us. A simply beautiful end to a spectacular day. Submitted by: Phil Hunter, Expedition Staff Photos by: Jacqueline Deely, a) Close kayak encounters, b) The “seventh” summit

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Petermann Is., Vernadsky Station (Antarctic Peninsula) Thursday, 9th March 2017 Last night we anchored just outside Petermann Island. It is a one-mile long island lying just south of the Lemaire Channel. The island is named for the German geographer August Petermann, and was first discovered by a German expedition in 1873-74. We were all ferried by Zodiac and dropped off in a small cove where the French explorer, Jean-Baptiste Charcot, and his vessel, Pourquoi Pas, overwintered in 1909. Charcot named this cove Port Circumcision, for the holy day on which it was discovered. Petermann is a domed island that rises moderately steeply to a rocky summit, 150-200 meters above sea level. It was nice to stretch our legs and watch the Gentoo Penguins again, but here we saw our first Adelie penguins as well. The cruise back to the ship along the ice was nice and the dark blue iceberg along our course was spectacular. We only had a few miles to go to our afternoon destination at Verdansky Station, and the sun was shining brilliantly as we approached.

This was originally a British base (first called Argentine Islands, then after being upgraded in the 1980s, it became Faraday after the world renowned physicist). Research here was, and still is, primarily upper atmosphere physics and ionosphere studies. The base was sold to the Ukrainians in 1996 for one pound sterling on condition that they continue the high quality research and maintain the base in good order. This is also where scientists first observed depletion in the ozone layer, known as the ozone

hole. The Ukrainian scientists at Vernadsky are continuing this ozone research in addition to studies focusing on geomagnetism, meteorology and glaciology. It was such an interesting tour of the facilities, and of course, the pub where we tasted the famous homemade vodka was a highlight. . A historic British hut, Wordie House, was also visited on neighboring Winter Island. It was named after Sir James Wordie, a member of Shackleton’s Imperial Trans-Atlantic Expedition (1914-16). Wordie House was occupied between 1947 and 1953 by 4 men on two-year contracts doing meteorology work. The cruising around the ice was so interesting as the different shapes and sizes never ceased to amaze. A relaxing evening was spent on the ship in the Polar Bear Bar with Andrew or watching a fascinating documentary on Antarctica. As the G Expedition sailed northwards towards her morning’s destination, eventide came to the Peninsula in a spectacular fashion as a mostly-full moon rose big and bold above the mountains around the Lemaire Channel. Submitted by: Scott MacPhail, Historian Photos by: John Kernan, Biologist, a) Ship, iceberg and Zodiac, b) Moonrise

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Neko Harbor, Port Lockroy (Antarctic Peninsula) Friday, 10th March 2017 The day dawned with as much flair as the previous one had ended. Calm and sweeping vistas enfettered by clouds or excessive moisture in the air swept the erstwhile day into night. And with nightfall came a biting cold. The genesis of this new day began with alpenglow setting the icy peaks of the Gerlache Strait afire. The few wispy clouds hovering on the flanks of the peaks burned off quickly under the rising sun. As the G Expedition turned into Andvord Bay on the eastern side of the Gerlache, she entered into shadow. The air was once again penetratingly cold. Rafts of congealed day-old sea ice blanketed the sea surface amid a panoply of icebergs and brash ice. After anchoring off of Neko Harbor, we took Zodiacs to its rocky shore and disembarked under a rising sun just cresting the highest peaks backdropping Neko. The rime-covered shore slowly came alive with heat and color. The thin icy layer began to melt, Gentoo Penguins began to stir more actively, and we began to walk and explore. As we did, the kayakers and Zodiac cruisers were enjoying that rarest of March days in Antarctica – sunny and warm, with plenty of ice upon which to feast the senses. Ashore, the same conditions prevailed. Many of us stripped off layers as we walked up and over slushy snow and rocks to enjoy one of the finest views in the Peninsula - glaciers and ice in every direction, and mighty Mt. Français (at 9825 ft., the highest peak in the region) looming commandingly in the distance. With the warming air, the Gentoos began to overheat. Chicks gave up their food chases to belly flop on the ground and pant, while some of the molting adults sought out the cool of shade behind boulders. It was another glorious spectacle under sublime conditions. During lunch, the G Expedition sailed back into the heart of the Gerlache, turned to the south and made for the southern entrance to the Peltier Channel. The cobalt waters were calm as the day continued to burn warm and blue. Winds, currents, tides and ice decide our fate. Captains and expedition leaders take constant stock of their surroundings, assess risks and advantages, and adjust the program accordingly. This afternoon could not have been more glorious. To seize a heretofore unforeseen opportunity is the calling card of a quality operation. A plan was hatched to enter the rarely traversed Peltier Channel from the southern entrance, quickly launch kayaks to traverse its length by paddle, and then steam to Port Lockroy via the “back way.” Ambitious and time consuming, it was worth it. Once at the destination, we explored the region with a two-pronged approach. Some explored Base ‘A’ on Goudier Island, while others walked around Jougla Point. The museum artfully displayed artifacts and information from Antarctica’s whaling, military, and scientific past. The Point was alive with penguins and shags on the cusp of finishing their season, while also showcasing in grim bones the legacy left by the whaling area. Beautiful yet sobering. Submitted by: John Kernan, Biologist Photos: a) Mt. Français at dawn, b) Whale bones at Jougla Point

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Deception Island (South Shetlands) Saturday, 11th March 2017 Traveling to Deception Island is to travel back in time – geologically and historically. It stands as one of the most singularly unique locations in all of Antarctica, and has few analogues anywhere else on the globe - Crater Lake in Oregon comes to mind, yet that wonder of nature is landlocked. Deception Island stands surrounded by frigid seas on the margin of the great white continent. During time immemorial, Deception Island, a mighty volcanic cone, blew its guts out, expelling the contents of its magma chamber. Subsequently, no longer able to support its own weight through the internal pressure generated by said chamber, it collapsed. A weak point in the crater rim was later breached by the sea, creating Port Foster, the island’s inner harbor. After being discovered in 1820 by Nathaniel Palmer, an American sealer, it soon became a favorite protected haven for all manner of enterprise and explorers. It remains such to this day. The narrow entrance into Deception Island is called Neptune’s Bellows, as strong winds frequently blow through it. It is less than 500 meters wide. Ships must avoid Raven Rock which lies submerged near the middle of the entrance. A lonely whaling wreck, the Southern Hunter, lies on the beach as a stark reminder of just how tricky this navigation can be. After successfully passing through and then entering into Port Foster, the G Expedition turned quickly to starboard and dropped anchor in Whaler’s Bay.

Winds were sprightly and cold. Yet, donned in appropriate gear, the flats around Whaler’s Bay were ours for the morning. The remains of the whaling station of yesteryear and the old BAS (British Antarctic Survey) outpost stand as reminders as to Mother Nature’s indifference to humanity’s plight on this Earth. All was virtually destroyed in the 1969 eruption. A hike up to Neptune’s Window, where the winds were even more bitter and focused than below, offered views across the Bransfield Strait to the

Antarctic Peninsula. Before we returned to the ship, a few intrepid and perhaps foolhardy souls removed their clothing and took a polar plunge into the subzero waters. After leaving Deception Island, our ship turned to the north and for home. The weather prediction for the coming days was not encouraging. A tight, low-pressure cell was encroaching upon the upper Drake Passage. In an effort to avoid its most devastating punches our captain had decided to forgo the afternoon’s excursion, and aim directly for the Beagle Channel. We shall see what King Neptune has in store. Submitted by: John Kernan, Biologist Photos by: Jaqueline Deely, Photographer in Residence, a) Walking in Whaler’s Bay, b) Taking the ‘Plunge’

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Drake Passage Sunday, 12th March 2017 When we awoke this morning, it was such a great feeling to notice there was not much movement on the ship, as we had entered the feared Drake Passage. We were wondering if the ultimate storm was going to cross our path, but it was very smooth sailing. It was a treat getting a lie in this morning, no wake-up call, no early breakfast. It was time to relax and reflect on what we had just done and witnessed over the last few days. The late night party in the Polar Bear Bar with the Monkey Eating Eagles crew band was a blast, and sleeping in was a perfect remedy for most. The race was on as the purple storm that Sarah showed on the weather map was still making its way towards us, trying to cut us off at the pass or the Beagle Channel. We were going at full speed in order to get to safety and hide from this huge storm.

We started the day’s educational themes this morning with Diego and his presentation on the penguins we had observed over the last few days. We learned the patterns and daily life of these amazing creatures and how their lives are so trying in their world so harsh and extreme. Soon after we were treated to an interesting talk on the wives of both Shackleton and Peary by Steve Blamires (Road Scholar leader), and how they dealt

with their time of being left alone while these famous explorers travelled to the polar regions for years at a time. The conditions outside were still relatively calm in the afternoon as we continued north, and Julia was up next with her presentation on geology basics as they apply to the continent of Antarctica. A bird count was later conducted on the aft deck where a Wandering Albatross and other seabirds were gliding on the high winds. The recap ended our afternoon sessions, and we all followed the electronic chart in the lobby to see how close we were getting to the Beagle and safety as the winds increased over dinner. It was a quiet evening, as many of us worked on our photos, spent time finishing up on our journals or chatted with friends. Submitted by: Scott MacPhail, Historian Photos: a) Cape Petrel, b) Black-browed Albatross

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Beagle Channel Monday, 13th March 2017 The Drake Passage is a lively body of water, and a rite of passage for anyone travelling to or from Antarctica. From Cape Horn to the Antarctic Peninsula it extends for 400 miles (645 km) and is infamous for having some of the roughest seas in the world. Many sailing ships of yesteryear fell victim to the treacherous conditions, which can include 30 meter swells, blasting winds and icy waters.

The captain and bridge team had achieved the goal set two days previous, during the evening the G Expedition had entered into the protected waters of the Beagle Channel. Last evening’s uncomfortable pitching and rolling was now a fading memory. During the morning the winds were still up and increasing, with gusts to 40 knots. However, due to the decreased fetch (the distance wind travels over water) the swells were insignificant. The

morning was filled with more presentations. Scott spoke eloquently on Shakleton’s Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition of 1914. The story has achieved a place in lore occupied by no other. It is the tale of extraordinary hardships, otherworldly seamanship and beguiling triumph. John rounded off the morning on a talk about seals of the Southern Ocean. During the afternoon the winds increased significantly to a steady 50 knots. We began to rock and roll somewhat. We bided our time with packing, had our appetite for further adventure whetted with a presentation from Scott on sailing adventures and excursions to the Arctic, and tested our newfound Antarctic knowledge with a quiz. Most interesting perhaps was Guest Lecturer Daniel Zitterbart’s presentation on living and working in Antarctica during winter. A summation of his work on Emperor Penguin dynamics was most salient. We finished our day with the raffle, auction and slideshow. The trip home from Antarctica is a striking contrast to the journey south, which is marked by giddy anticipation of sights yet unseen. On the return, we are satiated from our nine-day adventure. From the amazing sights of Humpback Whales cavorting near our Zodiacs to the pungent ammonia odor of penguin guano, our senses have been filled to their limits. Today, the ship's manifest contains the same list of names as when she departed Ushuaia, yet the ship seems filled with people different than those who first boarded. The strangers we met when we first boarded the ship are now our kin. Blown by the winds we met each other by chance and became a random gathering of souls who will likely never meet again. For a short time we all shared in a single adventure that had a life of its own. Like icebergs, no two adventures are identical. Sadly, also like icebergs, adventures have to come to their end, slowly breaking up into smaller parts and melting away until they are only memories. Too soon now, we will melt back into our former lives, but forever more will Antarctica be a part of all of us. Submitted by: John Kernan, Biologist Photos: a) A windy Beagle Channel, b) Dr Daniel Zitterbart giving his presentation