Already in the South Shetland Islands!

We worked with high anticipation for a day where we could hopefully step foot on land south of the Drake Passage.
Out on deck, the fog was thick. Not giving in, we stared impatiently into the mist, our eyes searching for blocks of ice visible on the radar but not yet to the naked eye. Wilson storm petrels and sooty albatross flew past the ship, our only company in this mystical bubble of waves and fog. Some imagined the scene more than 200 years ago when there was no radar to detect the ice and the islands. Until 1819, none of these islands were yet placed on the charts either. The first well-documented sighting of these islands was on 19th February 1819 by William Smith, a British merchant sailor. This preceded an explosion of seal exploitation in the South Shetland Islands. Hundreds of men rushed to the islands, eventually resulting in more ships and sealing gangs than there were seal beaches in the two summer seasons to follow.

As with every adventure, success in terms of alignment with our plan was not guaranteed. We aimed for Barrientos Island, which lies on the northern side of Greenwich Island in the South Shetland Islands. Moritz and Terry carefully edged our way past The Watchkeeper, a rocky outcrop north of Table Island, both prominent features used by the sealers to navigate in from the Drake Passage into the north of English Strait. Mainly useful when the conditions allow them to be seen. Luckily for us, the fog lifted, forming a low ceiling overhead, but enough visibility to see the tumbling glaciers of Robert Island to our port and Greenwich Island to our starboard. In the surrounding waters, harsh jagged rocks of basalt grew out of the crashing waves. With a current pushing us south through the strait, it was a quick passage between the small islands.

As we drew closer, we could make out Barrientos Island and, to its east, Cecilia Island, which we rounded into a bay to anchor. With the weather forecast to deteriorate with strong winds and snow from 2 pm, we hatched a plan to land as soon as we arrived. The galley team quickly produced a delicious pot of soup and some crunchy sourdough, warming us through again before we gathered in the deckhouse for our first pre-landing briefing.

By 12:30, we were all ashore and entertained by the charismatic penguins that dominate this beach. To the west, the island’s thick mat of mosses was avoided as we slowly maneuvered where we could on the crowded beach. Chinstrap penguins occupied the higher rocky ground, occasionally showing off their talents by throwing their heads back and cawing in synchrony. The gentoos settled for the lower slopes, giving their most aggressive call when the roaming skuas and giant petrels prowled along the beach, eyeing the fluffy chicks that the adults aggressively protected. Often there were two little heads peeking out from under the adult penguins, but some had just one. Amongst the penguins, some whale bones were visible. One vertebra was being put to good use by one penguin as shelter from the wind.

Over on the western shore of the beach, we could see a pair of elephant seals. Their rusty skin was starting to show the first signs of molting. They were quite unfazed by the bustling beach of penguins and circling predators overhead.
On returning to Europa, the wind began to pick up as expected. The last of the zodiac rides was slightly wetter than the outbound journey. Teamwork still prevailed in the windy conditions, and before long, both Blacky and Grey were up on the sloop deck.

After a second lunch in the lounge, we gathered in the deckhouse to discuss the life of the penguins we will see on this trip. It was a cozy atmosphere with the windows steamed up, a few drinks on the go, and pink faces from the outside air.

The last 24 hours of pushing the speed on the Drake was now turning out to have been the very best idea. We were anchored up in Discovery Bay by dinnertime, thuds of damp snow hitting the deck as snow accumulated on the side of the mast, yards, and lines. Coils blew horizontally. Additional shackles of anchor chain were let out. Anyone daring to go out on deck would widen their stance to stabilize themselves. Needless to say, it was not zodiac-launching weather! We happily shared photos, played games, and read past accounts of Antarctic voyages before dinner was served.

The evening went on in the deckhouse with a quiz as we waited out the storm. The true Antarctic conditions reminded us all that the weather makes the final decisions on our plans. Our plans for tomorrow were read with more curiosity for the outcome than previously.
