Deception and Elephant Islands

In a windy, cold rain, the ship entered Neptune's Bellows, the collapsed edge of a volcano's caldera to the flooded crater that now comprises a "harbor." We got ashore in the little rubber boats and hiked through loose gravel and volcanic ash to the top of the partially collapsed edge, called Neptune's window. It was a difficult climb. The footing was uncertain. There are remnants of the old whaling station here. The wooden whale boats, the rusting steel tanks where oil was stored. There have been numerous eruptions since the stations were abandoned in the 30s and the structures have been fairly well demolished. We saw some Weddell seals and Antarctic fur (eared) seals plus the stray Chinstrap penguin.

Wet and cold we thawed with tea and coffee in the library back aboard ship. This was the weather most of us expected of Antarctica, so there were no complaints. Paul's expensive Goretex waterproof pants had leaked at the knee, but we were otherwise fairly dry after stripping off the parkas. Our expensive cameras needed drying out too. They were fogging up from the temperature differential despite ziplocks. There is rain moisture inside.

The howling gale prompted our fearless leader to cancel the much-anticipated swim in the volcano-heated waters. We were soooo disappointed (!)

They did organize a landing on the far shore, called Telefon Bay, to the bemused delight of those of us drying out in the library. A baker's dozen braved the elements to do the landing. We watched with binoculars.

24 January 1999, S61°05"; W54°07" temperature 32F. Elephant Island, South Shetlands

After an afternoon at sea and an overnight passage, we arrived off the nose of Elephant Island by 0630 Sunday 24 January 1999. This is the island where Shackleton's crew took refuge in 1915 after their ship, Endurance, was crushed by the pack ice in the Weddell sea. They were actually trying to float on the ice to Paulet Island (where we landed earlier) because there was food cached there from an earlier expedition, but the drift carried them past Paulet. Elephant is the last island in the South Shetland chain, so they launched their life boats and found a tiny "beach" here where all but six took refuge. The beach is comprised of boulders fronting an icy cliff with no shelter of any kind. The six set out in a 22 ft. open lifeboat, the James Caird, to seek rescue. They crossed the Drake Passage and reached South Georgia Island on the wrong side. (Away from the whaling station.) After climbing across the unmapped mountainous interior of the Island (a feat never previously attempted and accomplished only few times since and then, only with well-prepared teams) they did reach the whaling station and eventually returned with a ship to Elephant Island to effect the rescue.

On his return, Shackleton refused to land. He ferried his troops to the rescue ship from the precarious beach, where we'll take the Zodiacs, today, for a "cruise" The seas are running and loading us aboard the bouncing boats is a bit precarious. Those same seas are breaking on the rocky coast. We'll do as Shackleton did and not attempt a landing.

We climb into our still-damp landing gear: Goretex ski pants, wool sweater-over flannel shirt, protected by the red parka, smelling faintly of penguin. We pull heavy insulated Baffin boots over heavy socks and buckle the Goretex over them (Rosie tucks them inside and blouses the too-long pants outside her boots). Thus equipped and with wool caps, damp gloves and life vests, we waddle over to the Zodiac loading ramp two doors down from our cabin.

Before boarding we turn over tags to the red side indicating we're going off ship. Last night Pete Puleston told a story of a 1980 landing at Deception Island where a passenger, a young girl, attempted to stay on the island after the ship left. She apparently planned to overwinter. An alert bridge crew spotted her crouching behind a dune and sent a Zodiac back to retrieve her (screaming and kicking). We don't think there will be any trouble getting this group back aboard!

The seas were so high that we decided that Rosemarie should not attempt to board the pitching rubber Zodiacs. Paul boarded without his cameras on the theory that any video shot from the pitching boat would not likely be usable. While studying the seas from the helm of our Zodiac and timing them so as to pass through a narrow, rocky passage, Stefan is studiously ignoring the radio chatter about the whereabouts of the ship's slide projector's carousel (of all things). When asked directly (just as a big sea crashed over our bow), Stefan grabbed the handy talky and directed the search to his cabin's closet. Despite the distraction, Stefan got us through the big seas and back without serious incident. He told us: "The next Island we see (Falklands) should be green." By 0815, the Cal Star weighed anchor and headed back out to the Drake and the Falklands.

At Point Wild (named for Frank Wild, the second-in-command, whom Shackleton left in charge on Elephant Island) there is a monument that was clearly visible to us. It is a bust of Captain Pardo, the Chilean captain in command of the rescue ship Yelcho which eventually rescued the men on August 31st of 1916 after they'd been stranded for 4 months. The Chileans are very proud of a long history of rescuing errant Englishmen.

Shackleton returned to Antarctica again in 1922, aboard the Quest, suffered a heart attack and is buried at South Georgia Island. Most of the expedition staff have made pilgrimage to his grave. The next cruise is scheduled to go there too.

As we passed the 60 degree line of latitude which is said to define Antarctica, the seas grew rougher. As we are headed north west on a course of 337 degrees, we are quartering the westerlies and the ship has a somewhat easier motion. Either that, or we are getting used to it. The stabilizers are out, The ship rolls only 5-7 degrees, but there is a pronounced pitching motion.

We have three lectures: Matt Drennan does a wonderful hour on the Shackleton story featuring photographs from the Frank Worley collection that were supplied by Dr. Jim Kelley, our resident geologist. These will be shown at the New York American Museum of Natural History in April. Jim Kelley, Dean of San Francisco State College (and Zodiac driver aboard this ship) gives an illustrated talk on oceanography, explaining the various currents. Everyone wanted to know about El Niņo. Finally, Stefan Lundgren talks about the King, Rockhopper and Magelenic penguins that we hope to see on the Falklands. He tells us that, although Macaroni penguins are the most populous species in the world, the single specimen we've already seen, is likely to be the only one we'll see. They breed on South Georgia.

The seas began to pick up as we headed north. By 2100, the ship was rolling 15 degrees and taking solid water against the windows of the lounge on the 4th deck. She was pitching, too and every so often the bows would fall into a wave trough with a loud bang. At 2230, with a louder bang, a big wave struck the port side and blew in one of the windows in the dining room on the third deck. The glass imploded in a thousand fragments and swept across the room. There is a teak room divider about 15 ft. in from the window and hundreds of fragments of glass were embedded in the wood. Fortunately, at that time no one was sitting there. Two hours earlier and the ship's doctor, Gail Wagner, would have been picking glass out of everyone. The whole crew was called into action to clean up and prevent further damage. They placed a plywood panel over the broken window. By breakfast time, the room had mostly been cleaned up but glass fragments remained and everything was soaked. We heard that a porthole on the second level, port side (our level) in the forward crew quarters was also blown out by that wave. We have interior steel porthole covers. Paul closed ours after hearing all of this. Turns out the crew had already battened down all the hatches on the first level. We wondered why, given last night's action, they hadn't closed ours.

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