Antarctica, The Falklands & South Georgia

January 2003

Nik Borrow

A total of 96 species was seen during our 2003 visit to Ushuaia, Falklands, South Georgia and Antarctica. During our visit we managed to see at least 55 endemics, near-endemics and specialities of the region. These included endemic passerines such as Cobb’s Wren and South Georgia Pipit as well as goodies such as Grey-backed Storm-petrel, Fuegian and Falkland Steamer Ducks, White-throated and Striated Caracaras, Rufous-chested Dotterel, Two-banded Plover and Snow and Antarctic Petrels. We also managed some fine cetacean sightings that included breaching Humpback Whales as well as Blue and Strap-toothed Whales. Then of course there were all those penguins!

Our adventure started in the icy wastes of London Heathrow where snow and freezing conditions had brought the airport to a virtual standstill. We watched as flight by flight (including ours) was wiped from the board. However Air France saved the day by running a delayed early flight late, successfully squeezed our party onto it, and so with collective sighs of relief we headed to Paris and on to Buenos Aires where the next untoward incident occurred. As we gathered our bags around us from the reclaim belts a fugitive pursued by a significant police contingent was seen heading towards our assembly which had chaotically blocked the way. Wild-eyed, and if not exactly foaming at the mouth he certainly gave that impression, he bore down upon us frantically searching for a gap in our line. It was at this point, as our barrier began to crumble, that a well-timed foot placed in the villain’s path by our noble leader toppled the miscreant, sending him sprawling on the floor in a sad, crumpled heap. It then took about ten men to hold him down and place the handcuffs around his wrists and we left Ezeiza airport still echoing with his strangled cries!! All in all an extraordinary start to what was to become a most magnificent tour. Our connecting flight then took us over the vast expanses of the pampas to Tierra del Fuego, and before landing we enjoyed breathtaking views of the Magellan Strait and the snow-capped mountains of this ‘land of fire’ as it was originally named. We arrived in Ushuaia, the world’s most southerly city, late in the evening and the next day some of us were out early checking out the woods and shoreline around our hotel, attractively perched on a hill overlooking the Beagle Channel. In the grey morning gloom, ubiquitous Rufous-collared Sparrows picked up insects attracted to the lights of the hotel and as the sun rose we found clumsy Fuegian Steamer Ducks hauled up along the beach with some of their Flying Steamer Duck counterparts swimming further out in the channel. Also along the tide-line were Crested Ducks and Upland and Kelp Geese. Large flights of Imperial Shags were spied way out whilst in nearer waters were good numbers of Great Grebes. Blackish and Magellanic Oystercatchers picked their way along the strand and attractive Dolphin Gulls were found among the far more numerous Kelp Gulls. Making our way back to the hotel, Chilean Swallows flew around us and a Ringed Kingfisher put on a good show. In the scrubby areas we came across a fine male Austral Negrito, colourful Patagonian Sierra-finches, cheerful Black-chinned Siskins, a party of strange Tufted Tit-tyrants and a group of Austral Blackbirds. Refuelled by breakfast we were ready for more and we made our way up to the chair-lift below the Martial Glacier that hangs high above the town. Unfortunately the lift itself was closed so we begun our climb instead through the Nothofagus forest and were accompanied by perky White-crested Elaenias, scolding House Wrens and charming Thorn-tailed Rayaditos. At the top we found Bar-winged Cinclodes and Dark-faced Ground-tyrant but rain and sleet unfortunately found us so we headed down admiring the view over the harbour where our ship lay waiting at anchor for us. However there was still much to see and no birding trip is seemingly complete without a stop at a rubbish dump. This tour was no exception and so we headed for the nearest only to find it a victim of land reclamation. A few pertinent questions to our driver and we were swiftly off to the ‘new’ rubbish dump. Its relocated situation was soon pin-pointed by a swirling mass of Kelp Gulls in the air and as we got closer there were numbers of Chilean Skuas, Southern Crested and Chimango Caracaras and our all important target, the localized White-throated Caracara. Heading back we managed to score a Dark-bellied Cinclodes, a Brown-hooded Gull and more steamer ducks for all. A city tour was taken in our stride and then it was back to the hotel for a late lunch followed by the transfer to board our ship the “Professor Multanovskiy” which was to be our home for the next eighteen nights.

With increasing excitement in the late afternoon sun we steamed off into the Beagle Channel through flocks of South American Terns and Imperial and Rock Shags while large numbers of Black-browed Albatrosses wheeled all around us. We passed Chile’s Navarino Island, the odd Magellanic Diving-petrel scooted across the waves and gatherings of Magellanic Penguins lined up on the beaches. With dramatic scenery and so many birds it was hard to tear our-selves away for the mandatory lifeboat drill let alone dinner!

In the early hours of the next day we passed by Staten Island, and as the stark contours of this ornithologically poorly known island grew ever more distant, the rich shelf waters became more and more alive with thousands of seabirds. Black-browed Albatrosses were everywhere and hundreds of Sooty Shearwaters could be seen in all directions. White-chinned Petrels and a few Great Shearwaters sheared by and Slender-billed Prions were a common sight. Graceful Royal Albatrosses of both northern and southern forms sailed by effortlessly and our first Wandering Albatrosses were also identified. Large numbers of Wilson’s Storm-petrels were supplemented by a handful of Grey-backed Storm-Petrels and Common (or Southern) Giant-petrels relentlessly followed the ship. Even a small pod of Peale’s Dolphins came in to accompany the ship for a few minutes.

By the next morning we had arrived at New Island in the Falklands, soft sunshine giving the coastline a mystical glow. We sailed passed the island and carried on to drop anchor in a sheltered bay of West Point Island. What an idyllic morning to arrive, with flat calm seas and piercingly blue skies. Magellanic Penguins floated around in the bay, Falkland Steamer Ducks paddled alongside the boat, South American Terns dived into the cold waters and a welcoming Dark-faced Ground-tyrant came and landed on our mast as if in order to inspect these new arrivals. We eagerly piled into the zodiacs that were to take us ashore and soon found ourselves on land with Kelp Geese along the tide-line and Upland Geese seemingly everywhere. Long-tailed Meadowlarks and twittering Black-chinned Siskins were around the settlement and Correndera Pipits flew over our heads as we began our walk to the Devil’s Nose where a fine colony of Black-browed Albatross and bizarre Rockhopper Penguins were waiting for us. The albatrosses were either courting, still sitting on their single egg or else tenderly sheltering a rather fat, fluffy, grey chick. Overhead Turkey Vultures and Striated Caracaras (a.k.a. Johnny Rook) took an interest in the proceedings and were ever watchful for a tasty meal. As we observed the scene from amongst the great stands of tussock grass the swish of wings, the squealing calls and the ejection of the last meal from the albatrosses competed with the trumpeting and braying penguins. Indeed it was not unusual to come across a Rockhopper staring quizzically up at you almost from beneath your feet as it made its way either to or from its nest on the steep cliffs amongst the albatrosses’ columnar mounds. Here some also saw Grass Wrens amongst the tussock and a Peregrine Falcon shot by for the lucky few. Time passed in a twinkling of an eye and we were soon given our orders to return to ship for the last zodiac. Our next stop was to be the delightfully rat-free Carcass Island. The wind was picking up but the sun still beat down burning any uncared for nose it could find! Our landing on the beach was observed by a huddled group of Magellanic Penguins and almost immediately a Blackish Cinclodes, or ‘tussockbird’, flew in to greet us commencing to feed along the high tide mark. Stand still long enough and these fearless birds would soon be hopping onto one’s feet! Because of the absence of rats this island was our best bet for the endemic Cobb’s Wren and despite the wind, one was soon ‘pished’ into view from the tussock and we were to see several more during our afternoon on the island. It was then on to inspect the colony of Magellanic Penguins dozing by their burrows amongst sleepy Antarctic Skuas and grazing geese that this time included some fine Ruddy-headed Geese. A surprise find was a superb Short-eared Owl that Diana flushed, and it fortunately landed nearby to pose nicely for the cameras. The walk round the bay gave us views of Austral Thrushes and the beautiful Black-throated Finch, and led us through an abandoned Gentoo Penguin colony apparently decimated by the poisons from a red tide of algae in the area. A timely reminder of how fragile this ecosystem actually is. After feasting on all these avian delights, a tasty variety of lovely scones in the farmhouse were well appreciated by those who had gone through all the effort.

Once back on board ship we weighed anchor and continued overnight round to Stanley, the capital of the Falkland Islands. The morning was once again fine although an evil wind was beginning to pick up that was to drag tears from our eyes. Our quest here was to find two delightful plovers and so while most of the boat’s passengers wandered around the town we set off to Surf Bay where we quickly came upon a family of Two-banded Plovers with the tiniest, fluffiest chick in tow. Correndera Pipits here were tame and easy to see but the search for Rufous-chested Dotterel remained fruitless. However a lone King Penguin on the beach seemed a little out of place and we feared for it as it shuffled into the mined area. We all had visions of our first King Penguin exploding before our eyes! Moving on to Gypsy Cove the wind was now making it difficult to stand but we added a fine male Red-backed (or Variable) Hawk to our lists but still no dotterel! It was time for one last try around Cape Pembroke. In some roadside pools were some Speckled Teal and a short walk finally yielded our elusive quarry, a truly beautiful Rufous-chested Dotterel running back and forth at our feet. Not only that but a few South American (or Magellanic) Snipe were thrown in for good measure. It was now time to catch up on what everyone else had been doing. A brief bout of shopping, a frenzy of postcard sending followed by a refuelling lunch in the Upland Goose, a city tour and even a visit to the museum meant that we squeezed out every drop from our brief visit.

In the afternoon we left the Falklands behind for the long voyage to legendary South Georgia. The crossing was packed with pelagic birds again, and in addition to the species we had already become familiar with several new ones appeared on the scene. Beautiful Soft-plumaged Petrels were seen in good numbers and more Grey-backed Storm-petrels, alongside the more common Black-bellied Storm-petrel, crossed our bows. More frequent encounters with the enormous Wandering Albatrosses sailing over the waves were magic and the attractive Grey-headed Albatross was a well-appreciated addition as were Northern (or Hall’s) Giant-petrel. During our second full day at sea we woke to find that we had crossed the Antarctic convergence at some time during the short night and our first icebergs now loomed on the horizon. The Slender-billed Prions had disappeared only to be replaced by large numbers of Antarctic Prions, a handful of the superficially prion-like Blue Petrels, and both South Georgia and Common Diving-petrels. Much excitement came with sightings of Hourglass Dolphins and no less than five species of whale. Minke, Sei, Fin and Humpbacks were all encountered but the real surprise was an incredible Strap-toothed Whale seen by our group as it swam towards the boat just beneath the clear water! As more icebergs appeared the weather became slightly mistier and our first flocks of South Georgia Shags revealed the proximity of the aptly named Shag Rocks.

By the next morning we found ourselves anchored off the impressive coastline of South Georgia in the Bay of Isles and about to attempt a landing on Albatross Islet. South Georgia has often been labelled as ‘the most beautiful place on earth’, and the amazing scenery we were to enjoy during our time along the shores of ‘the Alps of the Atlantic’ was indeed stunning! Claimed for the British throne by Captain James Cook in 1775, this far-flung island forms part of the long Scotia Arc curving out from South America to the South Sandwich Islands and then back to the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula. Once again our trusty zodiacs brought us into shore for a wet landing and scarcely had we arrived than the endemic South Georgia Pipit, the world’s most southerly passerine, was in view feeding amongst the huge number of Antarctic Fur Seals on the beach and firmly in our sights. We felt that this was surely no challenge at all as this tiny confiding passerine wandered between our feet! We then made our way through the challenging fur seals, past a Southern Giant-petrel tucking into a seal carcase with apparent relish, up a muddy stream and through the tussock to where a few isolated Wandering Albatrosses sat tight on their nests. These lovely adults were in contrast to those younger birds seen gliding so effortlessly over the waves out at sea. Here they were like snow-white softly feathered balls on their nest mounds and were for the most part sound asleep. At least one decided to wake for us and a lone male was also alert looking and waiting for his mate to return. Unfortunately we feared that he was already a widower and his mate a victim to the long-line fishing currently decimating the albatross populations. The colonies seem to be reduced by a steady one percent each year and although breeding success isn’t altered, there are increasing scenarios of birds not returning to the nest sites that they were normally so faithful to. Here we also found the small endemic race of the Yellow-billed Pintail (sometimes considered a distinct species, the South Georgia Pintail) rumoured to be the world’s only carnivorous duck due to the taste that the population has developed for carrion! As our time ashore ran out, the weather worsened and a cold mizzle filled the air, but after lunch it had dried out and even sun broke through for our landing at Salisbury Plain. This site is quite famous and even though the scene was familiar the realisation that we were all actually here amongst thousands of King Penguins was overwhelming. Not only that but a sleepy Leopard Seal lolled on the beach yawning to display its pink mouth and sharp teeth. The noise and smell of the penguin colony hit us full force and nothing can describe the sense of joy to be experienced when completely surrounded by these fearless creatures. Indeed after a short while one almost feels part of the colony as its members come up to inspect, greet or peck at you. Large crèches of downy chicks, well protected from the elements by their thick furry coats, awaited their parents return from fishing trips far out to sea. There was a constant coming and going from the adults whilst more sedentary moulting immatures remained huddled in miserable-looking groups gradually shedding old feathers onto the ground that had become an unappetizing soup of mud and guano. As we were just becoming fully immersed in the life of the colony the ships horn blasted and the freshening wind that had sprung up told us that we were in trouble. From all directions our group made their way back to the pile of life belts and the waiting zodiacs. Climbing back into them as the waves crashed against the beach wasn’t an elegant affair but once in we bounced back to the safety of the ship over white-capped waves that were being whipped up by the storm. We set sail against one of those wondrous backdrops of bright sunlight and rainbows against a darkening sky and made off along the coast to find safe harbour for the night at the old Norwegian whaling station and ship repair yard of Stromness. We gazed at the abandoned buildings in the gloom aware of the fact that this was the site where Shackleton and his two companions arrived at after their open-boat journey from Elephant Island.

The following morning was bright and sunny and Stromness allowed a much more cheerful appearance with its red, rusting buildings shining out against the foreboding mountain backdrop with its grey scree slopes. We were heading for a landing at Fortuna Bay at the base of the König glacier and the site of another King Penguin colony. Again the temperamental Antarctic Fur Seals were there to greet us, or rather see us off as they charged up to us in mock attacks. On the hillside a herd of introduced Reindeer made their way down to the beach looking quite incongruous amongst the penguins. However a highlight of this landing must surely have been the beautiful Light-mantled Sooty Albatrosses that were nesting on the low cliffs. They were involved in their courtship displays and flew elegantly against the backdrop of jagged mountains. Later that morning we were taken on a zodiac cruise around Hercules bay with its colony of argumentative and tetchy Macaroni Penguins. Bright white Pale-faced (or Snowy) Sheathbills picked their way over the black rocks and an unhappy young Reindeer stared down at us from a somewhat inaccessible ledge that showed no easy route back up to the cliff top itself. One of the zodiacs here made an unscheduled landing on the steep beach and enabled its participants to get better acquainted with the icy waters much to the amusement of our own exclusively Ocean Adventures boatload! After lunch we headed round to King Edward Cove and Grytviken which was established in 1905 as South Georgia’s first whaling station. Here we landed at the small whaler’s cemetery that holds Shackleton’s Grave and our visit was duly recorded by a group photo session paying homage to the great explorer. Wallows of Elephant Seals wobbled in gelatinous heaps and snorted and sniffed at us and with rolling eyes growled at each other. The impressive rusting remains of the station were in contrast to the smart restored church and fascinating museum. That evening we welcomed Grytviken’s inhabitants on board ship to join us for a barbecue on the fore deck and whilst a cold drizzle fell we drank hot spiced wine and chewed on tasty grilled sausages and swapped our experiences of the day. A marauding Antarctic Skua that ‘fell’ into the boat was gathered up and unceremoniously thrown off the side as the steep, snow-capped peaks dominating the scene faded into the night. Another round (or two) of drinks and a good time was had by all!

Our last morning on South Georgia found us at Gold Harbour overshadowed by the Bertrab Glacier where some huge male Elephant Seals had gathered to shed their skins and from time to time had to remind each other who exactly was the dominant male. At Cooper Bay a zodiac cruise took us past a huge Macaroni Penguin colony and a small Chinstrap Penguin colony while upon landing we had more Antarctic Fur and Elephant Seals as well as both Northern and Southern Giant-petrels and Antarctic Skuas to keep the cameras busy. It was almost time to leave in worsening weather but then the unbelievable happened. As we entered Drygalski Fjord the skies cleared and the sun shone down on the mind-blowing scenery! Dramatic peaks and towering cliffs either side channelled us down through piercingly ice blue waters, whipped up into white-capped waves to the sheer wall of the Risting Glacier itself. Here was our first Snow Petrel although it proved somewhat elusive and was overshadowed by the grandeur of the setting itself. We left South Georgia on choppy seas parting huge flocks of Antarctic Prions and White-chinned Petrels as we went. All in all this was a spectacular farewell to this marvellous island.

We now embarked on the long voyage, virtually following Shackleton’s route, to Elephant Island, at the northern extreme of the South Shetland archipelago. Fortunately we had calm seas and huge tabular icebergs drifting out from the Weddell Sea were to become a commonplace sight. It was back to seawatching from the bridge, and after hours of tallying many of the seabirds we were already familiar with we also noted that Blue Petrels had become more common and a few Fin Whales were seen. On our second day at sea Southern Fulmars appeared on the scene, often joined by large numbers of strikingly patterned Cape Petrels. On our third morning Clarence, Cornwallis and finally Elephant Island were sighted. Its daunting and inhospitable mass loomed up through low clouds clinging to the snowy slopes. We hung on to the rails as a heaving, moody sea tossed our boat and we realised that a landing in these high winds could not be attempted. Instead we cruised around the island and some were fortunate enough to see Southern Bottle-nosed Whale as we did so. From the decks we gazed at Point Wild, where Shackleton’s crew camped for months on end, and it is hard to imagine the terrible moments of despair and hardships some of these people must have gone through. As we passed Gibb’s Island we encountered the only Antarctic Petrels of the trip and then we were off across the Bransfield Strait. Gradually the winds subsided and we found ourselves in amongst a sea of icebergs many of which had groups of Chinstrap Penguins hitching a ride and staining the ice pink with their accumulating guano. The evening was set fair and the blue skies held a golden sun that set the clouds afire and reflected light in a multitude of colours off of the surfaces of the icebergs. Anyone with shares in Kodak would have been rubbing their hands together that evening! Between us all we managed to keep watch overnight and in the early hours we entered the seemingly iceberg-choked Antarctic Sound. However our wonderful captain, Sergei Nesterov navigated us successfully through the maze of ice set off by small numbers of Snow Petrels flitting low over the water. By breakfast time we had reached Paulet Island home to a huge colony of 100,000 or more breeding pairs of Adelie Penguins. These clowns of the penguin world were densely packed and had stained much of the volcanic island pink with their krill-dyed droppings. The sight, sounds and smells were once again, needless to say, overwhelming. However this did not deter us from continuing our landing and a colony of more than 300 pairs of Antarctic Shags here was another bonus. The nest of one pair even had the skeleton of a long dead bird as part of its construction! After lunch we retraced our steps through the Antarctic Sound to arrive at Brown Bluff, the exposed portion of a glacial volcano. It was here that we were to make our first landing on the seventh continent itself and it couldn’t have been a more fascinating place. The browns and ochres of the cliffs contrasted with the grey rounded boulders of a beach that was laced with a red ribbon of kelp. Another Adelie colony filled its beaches and at one end there was even a small colony of Gentoo Penguins. Here it was great fun to watch the parent Adelies pursued by two or sometimes three fluffy chicks, each falling and tumbling, beak over tail, in their clamorous pursuit for food. Attractively chequered Cape Petrels were nesting high on the bluff but gathered to bathe in the still waters of the bay. It was time now to make our way back across the Bransfield Strait to the South Shetlands.

Once again the weather was simply perfect and we arrived at Half Moon Island after a sublime sunrise had illuminated the skies with its liquid rays. Against the majestic, brilliant white snow-draped peaks of Livingston Island we were enchanted by the perfectly lit Chinstrap Penguin colony laid out over Half Moon’s lichen-covered craggy hills. The screams of a colony of Antarctic Terns filled the skies behind the cacophony of the penguins. Upon leaving we encountered a mother Humpback Whale with its calf who, no doubt filled with the joys of youth on this magical day, performed a series of breaches that had everybody screaming their appreciation and begging for more! At Deception Island a surprise was in store as the weather conditions were so perfect that we were able to make a landing at Bailey Head with its absolutely enormous Chinstrap Penguin colony estimated at over 100,000 pairs. Here the two-way traffic to and from the colony provided fascinating entertainment. Waddling trails of black and white penguins stretched for as far as the eye could see and we marvelled at how far some of these birds had to walk in order to bring back food for their waiting young. The sombre volcanic ash that coated even the glaciers formed a neutral background to the scene and somehow highlighted this pageant even further. Our stop here was all too brief for we moved on through the narrow opening of Neptune’s Bellows into the horseshoe-shaped caldera of this active volcano itself for yet another landing at Whaler’s Bay. Here the remnants of the whaler’s station took on a grim reality. The scene appeared dead and clouds of steam bearing a strong sulphurous odour rose from the thermally heated waters that had boiled alive a selection of krill, starfish and isopods. A couple of lone Gentoo Penguins surveying the rusting boilers from the cinder beach and a pair of Antarctic Skuas with their young chick were, apart from us, the only obvious living inhabitants in this ghostly settlement. Later a few intrepid members of the party decided to go and have a swim in the thermally heated strip of water near the shore at Pendulum Cove!

Overnight we cut back across the Bransfield Strait and morning found us in the Gerlache Strait with the mountains of the peninsula once again in view. We began the day with a visit to Cuverville Island. This small rocky island was home to a large Gentoo Penguin colony of just under 5,000 pairs and also in attendance here were small numbers of South Polar Skuas that included some distinctive pale morph birds. A keen wind didn’t stop those more interested in Humpback Whales from taking to the zodiacs in order to cruise amongst some of these leviathans. Following the coastline in to Andvord Bay brought with it more scenery to drool over. Just as we approached Neko Harbour a pod of Killer Whales was spotted which completely disrupted lunch, for the chef was reportedly one of the first on deck as passengers fled from the dining rooms in order to set eyes on these wonderful cetaceans. Our landing here brought us face to face with Weddell Seals hauled up on the beach but we were quickly diverted by a report of a King Penguin on the beach. “This couldn’t possibly be a King!” was the initial reaction by the ship’s naturalists and we were all initially convinced that we had the almost mythical Emperor Penguin in our sights. However despite a lot of wishful thinking we had to finally admit that this was in fact a rather lost young King Penguin looking rather sorry for itself and not its larger cousin. The seals and the creakings, rumblings and calvings from the nearby glacier did something to divert our attention and make us forget our disappointment as well as the ‘wasted’ film which was by now being rationed on a tight budget for many of us! We continued along through the Neumayer Channel to Port Lockroy where it had been planned to spend the night. However a wild wind appeared from nowhere preventing us from dropping anchor and so our plans had to be altered. Instead we had a barbecue on the fore deck whilst sailing up the seven mile long Lemaire Channel whose steep sides rose up and cradled us until we reached an area near Pléneau Island that was full of stranded icebergs. Once again we were to be treated to a miraculous light show as the setting sun rebounded its rays off of the staggering assortment of surfaces and shapes of the assembled bergs. The end of the day was either spent communing with the setting sun or by visiting the Ukrainian Vernadsky research station. However by all accounts the research undertaken by our passengers was mainly done finding out what the local brew tasted like!

In just a couple of hours the sun had risen again and it was time to return to the zodiacs for a sea-level view of those terrific grounded icebergs in an area dubbed the ‘iceberg graveyard’. Amongst these monoliths we had a chance to see a feeding frenzy of Kelp Gulls and Crabeater Seals feasting on a mass of krill, enjoy a Leopard Seal on its frozen waterbed of an ice floe or even follow a group of Minke Whales as they ‘played’ around the ship. Simply superb! Time flew by and it we returned back along the astounding Lemaire Channel to arrive at Port Lockroy under calmer conditions. This time we were able to land, and on the small British base we had Gentoo Penguins to entertain us as well as a superb museum to educate us. It was also a final chance for some ‘retail therapy’ and to send that last postcard home. Sadly the captain then pointed the ‘Professor Multanovskiy’ out of the Neumayer Channel and finally into the open seas of the Drake Passage. Although it was a little choppy at first the seas calmed to give us an easy passage across this channel notorious for its ferocious seas. The birds dropped away and although there were plenty of Blue Petrels on our second morning there was little else of note. Our excellent progress across flat seas meant that we were able to reach and round Cape Horn itself. Our gallant craft accompanied once more by Sooty Shearwaters and Black-browed Albatrosses boldly took us from the South Pacific into the South Atlantic with no trouble at all and we had to finally admit that it really was all over.

There are not enough superlatives in the dictionary to describe the glory of the Antarctic. One really has to experience the relentless beauty of the seventh continent oneself as words, photos and video are all actually too feeble to convey the strength and imposing grandeur of the sheer cliffs of ice and towering mountain peaks that rise straight out of the chilling seas. The icebergs themselves are empty canvases upon which the sun paints its colours, and the brushes of the wind and sea gouge their textures. Add to this the unparalleled beauty of South Georgia and of course the up-close-and-personal interaction with the region’s wildlife. How could we ever forget such mind-boggling, wondrous sights as those that we had experienced in these action-packed days that we had been privileged to be a part of. I know that we had all been bitten by that infectious ‘polar bug’ that once in the system tugs at the heartstrings and urges every one of us to return someday. This certainly had been the trip of a lifetime!