South Shetland Islands

Yesterday we were lucky enough to get two good landings at Deception Island, though the wind still blew and the weather changed and deteriorated along the day. Today, we are back under the grip of the raging winds that had been with us along our passage of the Drake.

Nevertheless, last night she could make her way northwards against 35 kn of strong winds and some gusts that climbed to about 50 kn, to get to the McFarlane Strait.

It is just after 4 AM when she reaches this channel between Livingston and Greenwich Islands and drops anchor at Half Moon Island. Thirty-five knots of steady wind blow, gusts climb up to over 45 kn. Europa holds her ground first under one of her anchors for about an hour, then she gives up and needs to drop her second anchor to stay put.

And put she stays for the whole morning, under sunny weather but facing furious winds, which slowly and gradually start easing down by midday. When you talk about 30 kn of wind as the level when you consider that there are “good or at least better conditions,” it means that what you had before was much worse.

There we keep our position, next to the crescent-shaped island of Half Moon, close to the planned landing site. Venturing out on deck in the strong winds, we can see a small beach where a small old dory lies, dating back to the beginning of the 1900s. Left behind then, she slowly falls apart as a witness of the past whaling times in the area. It was not just the whalers who worked here; even before them, dating back to 1821, sealers sought fur seal pelts.

At its background are the rocky hills where chinstrap penguins nest, and further back the impressive glaciers and high mountains of Livingston Island. At the other end of Half Moon stands the more modern Argentine Base Teniente Cámara, built in 1953. Nowadays used as a summer station and not even occupied every year.

Before midday the crew heaves both of Europa’s anchors; it is time to resume our way. Before heading south again, we have some time to get further into the McFarlane Strait for a ship’s cruise that will bring us close to the spectacular rock formation of Edinburgh Hill, a columnar basalt cliff 150 metres high.

On our way there, and just when lunch is announced, a humpback whale surfaces next to the ship.

The sun still shines, the wind still blows, the swell is still present, but the conditions are good enough for us to have a good view of the beautifully patterned volcanic plug of Edinburgh Hill. Its regularly stretched hexagonal columns were formed in one of the volcanic episodes that occurred in the area between the Bransfield Strait and the South Shetlands, events that started about 25 million years ago, with peaks of maximum activity about 10, 4, and 3 million years ago. With the right thickness of magma, the right composition, and the right slow cooling temperature, it can solidify in that regular fashion.

The rock cliff was first photographed and named by Scottish geologist David Ferguson in 1913–14. Its columns are beautifully deformed into a smooth bellied curve. They display a striking soft grey colour against the bright glaciers which surround it.

Turning around, now we face the adverse seas and headwinds that blow in the Bransfield Strait.

Still using both our engines, for a moment it looks like we can set some canvas. At least the lower staysails and spanker are hoisted. A little later, topsails are unfurled and readied to set, but the forecast northwesterlies, turning later to northeasterlies, are not coming yet. The canvas remains pulled tight on its gear, waiting for the chance to be set, which happens right before it is time for dinner. Europa pushes through 30 kn of wind that gradually eases down during the evening, motor-sailing southwards to Trinity Island, leaving behind the South Shetland Islands for the shores of the Antarctic Peninsula.