Dancing Mad God

Petermann Island was our southernmost point (65°10′S 64°10′W), and the end of the road. When we landed, we were given the option of going to one side of the island to see “Iceberg Alley” — tempting — or to see baby Adélie Penguins. Not much of a decision after all:

Squabbling:

and courting:

can look very similar among Adélies.

They can do impressive things with their necks:

On some parts of the island, Adélies, Gentoos and Blue-eyed Shags all nest together:

Big stretch:

This shag has something to be proud of (in fact, several of them):

The gentoos had their own little dramas. Courting:

Brooding:

Stealing. Here the penguin on the left steals a pebble from the bird in the middle, while she’s defending the other side:

Next minute, the penguin on the right has done the same while she was distracted to the left. This process can go on for several minutes at a time, after which she can start stealing them back.

Thefts can also come from other species:

The island has an extensive network of human and penguin pathways:

But traffic jams still occur:

With so much going on, Petermann was also a fine place to put aside the camera and have a last few moments of taking in the scene. Then, all too soon, it was time to say goodbye to Antarctica, for now….

The last day of our trip was rather nerve-wracking as well as enjoyable: we sailed through the Lemaire Channel towards Petermann Island, but there was a risk that there would be too much ice in the channel for us to reach the island in time to land. The channel was also very misty: great for the atmosphere, but not optimal for sweeping landscapes:

The water was beautifully clear and still:

The cliffs of broken ice had some beautiful blues:

As we went past we saw the occasional seal on a floe, and caught a rare glimpse of an Emperor Penguin beside the ship.

Fortunately we arrived at Petermann in good time for one last landing. While waiting for our turn, I watched whole shoals of Gentoo Penguins going about their business:

Petermann is apparently the southernmost gentoo colony, although that’s probably going to change; these guys are moving down the peninsula as temperatures increase.

Porpoising is thought to be a means of confusing leopard seals in order not to get eaten, but it also looks like fun:

10/10:

After leaving Brown, we spent the evening on our way back west, towards Port Lockroy. We made our acquaintance with a range of ice forms on the way; I’m not sure which is which, but I believe that brash ice, growlers and bergy-bits were all floating in the startlingly calm sea:

Port Lockroy is the name both of the whole bay and of the British base on the minuscule Goudier Island. It has now been converted into a museum and souvenir shop/post office, made famous in the BBC film ‘Penguin Post Office’ (featuring Hurtigruten tourists!).

The half of the island behind the posts is solely for the use of penguins rather than tourists:

The research so far is ambiguous. It seems that penguins prefer to breed in the tourist-free zone, but they are successful in inhabited areas too. Under the museum is not a bad place, the main hazard being from other penguins:

The mountains of the surrounding Wiencke Island make a good backdrop for preening, or just doing some standing:  

Most of the penguins were brooding; reproduction was also on the minds of the local skuas:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6b4NALtOyc

Base Brown, named after an improbable Argentine national hero, is of particular interest as being on the continent itself rather than one of the islands.

It was burned down in 1984 when the station’s doctor went a little crazy and set fire to the place, was then rebuilt, and is now manned only intermittently. New owners have moved in:

Above the base is another nice sliding hill:

Blue-eyed Shags scour the sea for materials from which to construct their rather unkempt nests:

Do some mutual preening: 

And generally keep an eye on things:

On our second-last day in Antarctica, we woke to find the ship nosing down towards Cuverville Island, 64°41′S 62°38′W:

Temperatures were lower here, although still just around freezing, and the lack of wind meant it didn’t feel particularly cold:

The island has a hill from which to look down on the ship:

We weren’t the only ones making our way up and down:

If walking is too slow, once can also toboggan:

And sometimes other species make convenient paths:

Pebble-shifting was the most popular activity:

Not all eggs make it, but skuas have to eat too:

After leaving Deception Island, we had a few hours’ sail south and across the Bransfield Strait to Trinity Island, which lies just off the peninsula. This meant our second landing was in the early evening; the light was fantastic:

One of the pleasures to be had in Antarctica is seeing the range of colours in the ice:

A few seals were idling on the shore, and other residents had left their marks all over the snow:

This is the site of a small Gentoo Penguin colony:

Then a little wading brought us back to the boat:

Day two in Antarctica began with Deception Island. Visitors are no longer allowed to dig their own hot tubs in the volcanic sand, but I could still happily have spent several days here: touring the bay, visiting the remnants of the whaling days, and (the one I chose in the end) going for a hike over the caldera rim to a colony of Chinstrap Penguins.

The hike was billed as “very difficult”, which I suspect took into account the average Fram passenger being over 65, overweight, and over-confident. We made it even easier for ourselves by not climbing down to the colony, but sliding instead:

The colony, at Baily Head, is one of the largest chinstrap colonies around, but unfortunately numbers are in steep decline here due to climate change. The locals were in lively form, however, courting:

thieving:

and squabbling:

Each nest is surrounded by radiating jets of poo, which the penguins emit with impressive force. Green jets contain bile, and red ones krill. The overall effect is rather like a Pollock:

After the walk, there was just time for either a swim in the freezing water, or a look at the rusting Hektor whaling station. I opted for the latter:

After leaving Arctowski, we sailed down the South Shetland islands, admiring the views:

Our next stop was the tiny Half Moon Island, a scrap of land off the largish Livingston Island. Here some went off kayaking:

While I went in search of penguins. This is chinstrap territory:

A few of the slower birds were still mating — a rather tender and fluttery affair, although it does involve the male standing on the female’s back:

But most had progressed to brooding:

Whoever isn’t on the nest has the job of providing pebbles, either to raise it or to replace those stolen by neighbours:

Relationships with neighbours can get a bit testy:

And it’s not the easiest place to keep one’s feathers sparkling white:

Life in the colony has its good sides, though; there’s always someone to join you in a song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=47E5k3EYqt4

Other birds hang around as well, looking either for scraps:

Or for companionship: this single Macaroni Penguin is a regular visitor:

After visiting the colony, there was still time for a last look around before returning to the Fram:

Arctowski Station, on King George Island, is named after the Polish explorer, meteorologist, and inventor of the wind chill factor, Henryk Arctowski. It’s very Polish:

At the landing site, we found 100% of the flowering plants of Antarctica, though neither was yet in bloom: Antarctic hair grass, with (bottom left)  Antarctic pearlwort:

Apart from that, lichens are the most visible signs of life among the rocks:

Animal life is more plentiful. Penguins, of course, and here we found two new species; the Adélie:

And the Chinstrap:

One Weddell Seal (named after a seal hunter) was at peace:

These spend most of their “land” time on ice rather than actual land, so we didn’t see very many.

And there were several reminders of the bad old days: