Goudier Island

Unfortunately the high winds have entirely stopped play today. This morning’s zodiac boat excursions were cancelled owing to the choppy seas, and now this afternoon’s planned landing at Damoy Point has also been called off, as they cannot guarantee that the conditions will permit a return journey in the zodiac boats. This is entirely sensible in my book, and just a cursory glance at the swell is more than enough for me to not fancy attempting it in anything smaller than the robust vessel I’m currently standing on. Predictably, this announcement triggers some pointless tutting and teeth gnashing, but in this part of the world, one does not play chicken with the elements. They will win, every time.

So we now have an afternoon of cruising the Neumayer Channel to enjoy. It’s actually brightening up out there a little, but the wind continues to roar, and anyone venturing out up top without thermal gear on will not be out there for very long.

At around 13:30, we pass Port Lockroy, a former British research station situated on a tiny island in a natural harbour, which is now a museum, and also famously home to the most southerly operational post office in the world. Unfortunately, the entrance to Port Lockroy is entirely clogged with ice, courtesy of the strong winds that have blown our schedule so far off course today, so the base’s staff can not get out to us by boat (which apparently they would’ve been happy to do). Instead, we must be content with taking a moment to wave at them (and their contingency of penguins) before we continue our journey south. The Bridge has just informed us that they intend to go down to the entrance to the Lemaire Channel, some 40 miles south from our current position, but that the ice conditions there are unknown, so we’ll have to see how far we get. Exciting times!

As mid-afternoon approaches, I hit the sauna again, which is becoming a daily ritual, and sit for few minutes marvelling at the alien scenery floating past my eyes. The scale of everything here is almost too much to comprehend. Across from me, the mountains of the channel jut out of the sea, but it is almost impossible to guess how high the land might actually stand beneath the snow and ice, as the rough edges where calving has taken place are hundreds of meters high. The raw insides of the turquoise ice reveal striations which resemble the lines of a tree trunk. Perhaps they too give an indication of how long they have taken to form. On the horizon, I can see a tabular iceberg that must easily be a mile wide. It is incredibly special to witness. Just being in this place is a such a rare honour, and something for which I’m immensely grateful.

Our journey south continues, with the wind still blowing at a steady 45 knots, combined with an outside air temperature of -7.5°C now, which makes the windchill factor seem like it's -25°C out there. Truly a polar experience.Read more