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A Peter Knego Blog
Ice Water Blog, Part Two: MV DISCOVERY Ushuaia to Punta Arenas
February 16-24, 2007
February 19, 2007: It's been difficult to find time to keep up! The scenery and onboard activities have kept the schedule booked. Currently, I am in our cabin, watching the bow cam channel as DISCOVERY pushes through a sea of icebergs in Hope Bay. In just a few minutes, naturalist and historian, Peter Carey, is going to give a fascinating talk about the ill-fated Swedish Antarctic expedition, so I may have to pick this up at a later time.
Two days ago, on the 17th, it appeared as though we were going to experience the Drake Passage's wrath, but the threatening seas abated and all remained calm within our inner ears. At 5:59 PM, Captain Kemp announced that we crossed the Antarctic convergence, which is marked by a sudden four to five degree drop in the water temperature.
Our meals consisted of a sit down lunch in the Seven Continents Restaurant and a lovely tea in the Palm Court (featuring spiced ginger cookies to help soothe any possible swell-struck stomachs). Dinner was followed by the show, a tribute to Gershwin and Glenn Miller, in the Carousel Lounge. Around midnight, we had entered the lee of the Antarctic Peninsula, allaying any further concerns about southbound Drake Passage drama. We awoke yesterday morning, February 20, as DISCOVERY approached Deception Island. A collapsed volcano, not unlike Santorini, it has but just one very narrow entrance. In the wake of NORDKAPP's grounding a couple of weeks ago, our visit to the caldera was cancelled, so DISCOVERY motored onward to Greenwich Island.
DISCOVERY facing aft along midships Sky Deck. Photo and copyright Peter Knego 2007.
Even under the gloomy, somber skies, the topography was brilliant. Jagged outcrops of volcanic rock were streaked with iridescent patches of turquoise and brilliant white. In the calm seas, chunks of ice rattled like Brazilian bangles on either side of us. We enjoyed the hospitality of Captain Kemp in the wheelhouse as he called out navigation orders, occasionally venturing to the wings to gauge wind and current changes. He skillfully tendered questions from the press group, never taking his eyes off the channel or the equipment in his midst.
Facing forward from aft Riviera Deck. Photo and copyright Peter Knego 2007.
On the prior cruise, these waters were ice free, but in the interim, a large glacial calving must have created the vast sea of broken ice that was blocking access to our planned landing area. As the naturalists and navigators converged on where we would go next, we watched as the handsome former Hurtigrute vessel, MV ANDREA, approached off our distant port stern and meandered into an adjacent bay.
MV DISCOVERY at sea between Deception and Greenwich Island. Photo and copyright Peter Knego 2007.
Finally, it was decided we would have a zodiac excursion along a nearby glacier, but that an actual landing would not be possible. This, of course, is the very nature of an Antarctic cruise: Everything is subject to weather and sea conditions. As we awaited our turn (there are five groups designated by color, the order of which is alternated on subsequent days) we watched from deck as zodiacs were methodically loaded from the portside platform, riding past DISCOVERY's bow toward a rocky outcrop and toward an arc of black beach underneath a looming glacier, returning via the ship's starboard platform. One of the former Soviet icebreakers, the PROFESSOR MOLCHANOV, approached off our stern and remained in situ near the cliff-like edge of the glacier. We would later learn that this massive river of ice that stretched from one end of the starboard horizon to the other was considered too small for a proper name.
MV DISCOVERY at Greenwich Island, Antarctica: 2-18-07. Photo and copyright Peter Knego 2007.
Slowly, the clouds descended, covering Greenwich Island's sloping glacial mountaintops and obscuring the visibility. By the time our color, blue, was called and we climbed into the zodiac, DISCOVERY was being engulfed by the fog. She disappeared behind us as the aroma of penguin guano began to tickle our sinuses. Small swells washed up along the pebbled beach, their ebb creating a musical trickle. Still in their baby "downs", clusters of Gentoo Penguins were learning to swim, although our guide, Jim, told us they were probably too young to have learned the art of catching krill, their abundant food supply. A large thud echoed in the distance as an unstable portion of the glacier calved. We made several passes along the beach, penguins diving just yards away from the zodiac, but had to return a bit early due to the thickening fog.
Gentoo Penguins at Greenwich Island, Antarctica: 2-18-07. Photo and copyright Peter Knego 2007.
As the zodiac sped forward, DISCOVERY emerged from the foggy seascape like a developing Polaroid photo. Her lovely Italian-esque bow, sculpted radio mast, voluptuously finned funnel, and sweeping, terraced cruiser spoon stern are sorely missed features on today's generation of ships. A fuzzy glow of amber light emanated from her Riviera Deck windows and her network of portholes. From the perspective of a zodiac, she seemed much larger than her modest 20,000 gt.
Shortly after our return, the fog lifted, allowing me a chance to capture the PROFESSOR MOLCHANOV cross past our stern. Dinner followed, allowing our table to discuss the day's adventures before we returned to the cabin for a relatively early retirement.
Hope Bay. Photo and copyright Mike Masino 2007.
This morning, as I flung open the curtains, my eyes were seared by the sun's reflection off the top of an iceberg. We clambered into our cold weather clothes, donned an army of cameras, and head straight for the observation deck. The Hope Bay scenery was nothing short of magnificent. Huge table icebergs were on either side of us. Scatterlings of smaller bergs were everywhere, their formations resembling anything from ancient Greek ruins to anvils and elephants. Patches of blue bled through various cracks in the ice and along the lapping water's edge. In the distance, the sweep of Mt. Flora loomed off our bow. The abundant sunlight illuminated its rocky, tan flanks, which swept down to meet the Depot Glacier at the bay's head. A tiny cluster of red shacks at the foot of the mountain were revealed to be the Uruguayan Antarctic summer base. This spectacular locale is where the famed Swedish expedition was marooned in 1903.
End of Part Two
Continue to Ice Water: part three
Return to Ice Water: part one
