Antarctica Journal 3, December 19 – Killer Whales, Trapped by Ice, Adelie Penguins and Snow Shoeing

You won’t believe this. I was up early and reading up on orcas (killer whales) when the Captain excitedly announced, "Folks, there are killer whales about 100 meters in front of the ship. Come to the bow and watch!" We grabbed our jackets, polar caps and gloves, and ran to the deck. There they were – a pod of five, counting from the dorsal fins and occasional spoutings. They didn't seem to mind that the ship was coming near them. Four adults, one baby. Soon enough it became too cold to watch for a longer period, so we left the deck – with a big smile on our faces. Orcas before breakfast. Not a bad start …

The orca sighting changed today's plans. While we slept our ship crossed Bransfield Strait, traveling about 120 nautical miles. We were supposed to head for Brown Bluff to see a colony of penguins. Instead, we boarded the Zodiacs to roam around the Antarctic Sound and "chase" after orcas, Antarctica’s biggest predators. They're the kings out here. The males can grow as much as 30 ft long and weigh 8 tons. The females are only slightly smaller at 26 ft. They have black bodies, white eye patches, white chins, and white bellies. They also have a greyish saddle on their backs. This I didn’t know: orcas are not true whales; they’re actually dolphins. The ruthless variety, however. Like wolves, they hunt in packs and have evolved sophisticated tactics like: spy hopping (treading water vertically to check the prey); squeezing the prey (an orca on the left, another on the right, with the prey, say a minke whale, in the middle) in a fast-paced chase that includes vicious bites on the back of the minke; and fanning waves (seals rest on ice floes that orcas can topple over by collectively creating wave surges). Our guides suspected the orcas were out hunting for seals today.

We motored past icebergs and roamed inside ice enclosures. At times, we zoomed speedily; other times, we just cruised. Always on a lookout, Jamie, our Zodiac driver, was in constant communication with Mike, the orca expert, in the other boat. In time, we spotted dorsal fins, three of them. The orcas were like submarines stealthily moving underwater. Luck smiled again. We were able to move in close. One orca obliged us with a “breach” - a jump off the water - that allowed us to see its enormous right side. It was tinged with yellow green algae. We were just five feet away! Such power. And grace. I tell you: that killing machine was beautiful.

We hovered around different areas hoping to see some more of the orcas. Jamie took us to ice floes where he thought some seals might be. Not much luck this time around. When several Adelie penguins (more about them later) jumped for a swim, Jamie told us the orcas went somewhere else for sure. The Adelies sensed the coast was clear.

The excitement, however, continued. A solitary petrel, white as snow, flew overhead, as did a flock of cormorants. Jamie took us close to a rock tower where they nest, probably the safest place any bird could be. We also saw a storm petrel, a bird weighing 40 grams, just the size of your two fingers. This diminutive creature flies from the North Atlantic to mate and nest here. How it keeps warm is a mystery. Imagine the size of its heart! How strange - other birds migrate away from the cold; this one comes home to it. Nature is a puzzle.

The icebergs were fascinating, too. These massive islands of ice floated on water about 100 meters deep. Jamie told us they're million of years old. Smaller ones, either fragments of bigger ones or newly formed ones, also abound. The water was so clear you could see the bottom parts of the icebergs. I can’t tell how far they go, but they go reeaaally deep. "Tip of the iceberg" – Jason said he'll never hear that phrase again without these vivid images coming to mind.

Jamie and Mike wanted us to experience what it was like to walk on an iceberg, so they searched for, and found, a stable one.  But almost as soon as we landed, the Captain ordered us to get back to our Zodiacs. The icebergs were moving fast; Rhodora pointed this out to me before the summons. The sea itself was freezing. The guides were afraid our passageways might be cut off. On board the Zodiac, Mike asked if we knew about Shackleton, whose ship, Endurance, was trapped in pack ice that eventually cracked its shell and sunk it in 1915. He and his 22 men were stranded in Antarctica for over a year. (The saga of Shackleton is one of the greatest adventure stories ever. My fascination with Antarctica began when I read about it in 1995.) Mike, by mentioning Shackleton, hinted at what's going on.

As soon as everyone was on board, the ship sailed away. From our porthole, we saw the icebergs about to hem us in. Moving fast became imperative. I wondered, however, why some Zodiacs still plied the seas. I didn't realize till later that our fellow guests, 13 of them, went out on kayaks, and were trapped in the frozen sea. They weren't able to come on board until 530PM or over some six hours later. The Zodiacs I saw were the rescue party. Scary moment. To think we thought of going kayaking ourselves this morning ...

You would have thought the day was over, but after dinner, we landed at Brown Bluff, a towering, rust-colored cliff. Brown Bluff is home to some 16,000 pairs of Adelie penguins, one of two penguin species you'll find only in Antarctica. (The other is the Emperor.) They’re about two feet tall and probably weigh around 10 pounds. Noisy, smelly, ever busy. My, my, how they waddle! Jesse thought they looked “unreal”, more like wind-up toys than animals. We spied a troop – they did seem to fall in line - heading to the waters. At the edge of the shore, they stopped, waited who’d go first, hesitated, then flopped all together. Clumsy fellows. I dare you not to laugh while watching them. In the water, however, they moved like torpedoes. Jet propulsion engines diving for krill, the shrimp-like creatures that serve as their staple diet. (If you watched “Happy Feet 2”, they’re the Brad Pitt and Matt Damon characters.) In the colony, we saw parents warming eggs and tending to penguin chicks. There were plenty of chicks running around. Amazing - parents recognize their chicks’ distinct “voices” and vice versa. Overhead, some kelp gulls attempted to steal either eggs or chicks. The penguins tried to drive them away with group squawking.

For our family, the other thrill tonight was snowshoeing. A new, delightful experience for us. The first snowshoes I saw were wooden, and looked like tennis rackets. You tied your shoes to it; they made walking on snow easy. These ones were modern. They're short, wide plastic boards with “teeth” underneath. You strapped on your boots to the board, lifted your ankles slightly, and you're off and walking. You have a pair of ski poles to aid your balance. We hiked up one side of Brown Bluff and crossed over to a glacier. Nico, our guide, perhaps to assuage any anxiety, didn't tell us we walked on a glacier until we reached the end. He did warn us about crevasses (cracks in the iceberg hidden by fresh fallen snow) and had us trek in one line. Jonathan, the other guide, was the trailer; he made sure everything was in order. Rhodora and I elected to go last in line, the better not to delay the rest of the group. Our kids did very well; they seemed naturals at snowshoeing. Juliene kept a rhythm that I followed - the old left-right, left-right march. It worked well for me. We huffed and puffed. Sweat trickled down all over my body. It felt good, however. Fancy that - a work out in Antarctica.

The sun set at 11:58PM.

Read about humpback whales, gentoo penguins, icebergs and wedell seals in my Antarctica Journal 4.