How far it was, and how cold

Back from my Antarctica trip I have had a little time to reflect. Before I went I was hoping for 'whiteness' and looked forward to being surrounded by icebergs. Certainly in Antarctica there was whiteness and it was awesome, awe inspiringly vast.


And sometimes we were surrounded by icebergs. Yet the experience was very different from what I had imagined. I was probably more looking forward to white stillness, a description that evokes images of peace. Despite having read books by Antarctic explorers, I was less prepared for the harshness of the environment. Even though we had sunny days in the Ross Sea at Antarctica and temperatures did not drop below minus 20C (plus wind chill factor of course), I could imagine a little bit what it must have been like for the explorers. But they overwintered and experienced temperatures nearer minus 50 and 60. Although the huts seem cosy and comfy (we were able to visit three historic huts) there were a lot of people crammed into a small space. We already found it frustrating at times to be cooped up in our boat during lengthy days in rough seas. But Scott, Shackleton and others travelled in smaller vessels, with more people and stuff packed in the small space and it took longer to get there. I can imagine people becoming hooked on Antarctica, it is truly amazing, but cannot imagine people being willing to make that same long journey more than once.

Another reason why I chose this particular trip was my desire to see the Subantarctic Islands and these were what I hoped and expected but even more so. But let me begin at the start and give an overview of the trip spread over the next week or so. Unlike other passengers I did not bring a laptop. They were all able to upload their blogs upon return. I am able to write my impressions after some delay and having had a chance to think. Here is the boat we travelled in:




This is a Russian ship called "Professor Khromov" sailing under New Zealand charter and the name of "Spirit of Enderby". Note on the lower picture the cigar shaped lifeboat. We did a drill and barely squeezed in twenty three of us, padded out with bulky life jackets. Then we were told that in a real emergency another fifteen or so would have to be added (the crew). I prayed we would never have such an emergency. The thought of being tossed and turned on the waves in the confinement of such a small space, with seasickness prevailing, seems beyond endurance. Note also on the picture the hoist that was used to lower the Zodiacs into the water.

The first night on board was bad enough. Despite taking tablets AND wearing armbands I felt terribly queasy at dinner and was not the only one. Several had to abandon dinner altogether. By 9.30 most of us were in bed. Next morning our tour leaders told us it had been a smooth transit through the roaring 40s, but I definitely felt some serious rolling. Our bunks are positioned across the length of the boat and so, when the boat rolls sideways you're alternately moved with head up or down, sliding along the bunk bed. The first is not too bad, but the second feels as if you're upside down and choking. Still, it could have been worse, as we would find out later in the trip. Here I am in my corner of the cabin:


It was, therefore, a relief to be able to get off the boat at the Snares... (to be continued)