Patagonia

My last day of birding at the Fin del Mundo on the Isla de Tierra del Fuego in Patagonia, Argentina is tomorrow. It’s going to be difficult to top all of the species I’ve seen so far over the last month. Today was very special with two Chilean Flamingoes feeding in a laguna on Estancia de Los Flamencos. So far I’ve seen 81 species of birds on this island – not a huge number but many of them are very specific to this area like the Magellanic Plover, the only member of its family and with a limited distribution. We were blown sideways in 50-60 mph Patagonian winds trying to locate this special plover on the shores of a lagoon when we spotted the two flamingoes – gorgeous! My photos are less than sharp because not only was it impossible to hold my 300mm lens steady, I kept having to step forward to avoid being blown over. There were moments on the way back to the van that the wind stopped me and I literally couldn’t step forward it was so strong. I felt like I was at the top of a mountain in the middle of the jet stream. Yet the flamingoes held their ground and the Baird’s Sandpipers on the shore managed to fly from here to there so perhaps the winds weren’t quite the hurricane strength I perceived.

In contrast to the localized plover we found at the lagoon next to the flamingoes’ lagoon, the sandpipers (Baird’s and White-rumped), Sanderlings, Red Knots, Black-bellied Plovers, and Hudsonian Godwits we saw at the high tide line on the Atlantic coast are all long-distance migrants. Some of them breed even farther north in the Arctic than the north slope of Alaska where I found shorebird nests at Prudhoe Bay back in the early 90s as a field tech by day and as a PhD student studying shorebirds by night (always light). It’s mind boggling to imagine the same individual Arctic Terns, Baird’s Sandpipers, and Black-bellied Plovers I’ve seen on this trip breeding in Alaska in a few months.

We’re staying at the Kaiken Hosteria at the west end of Lake Fagnano, a long lake that nearly splits the island in half. The island is split in half in the other direction with the west portion belonging to Chile and the east portion belonging to Argentina. It’s a strained relationship between the two neighbors, almost as if they don’t really want to be roommates, but they have to be. When our captain radioed the Chilean authorities to ask if we could approach Cape Horn, the southern tip of South America and part of Chile, closer than 3 miles so we could see the wildlife closer to land, he was told that 3 miles was the limit. Only a few ships are allowed to take the shortcut back to Ushuaia through Chilean waters after rounding Cape Horn. Our ship is not one of those ships so we go east to the entrance of the Beagle Channel, then west through the channel. We docked at 630am and our rooms were being cleaned while we were at breakfast and we disembarked at 745am. Unbelievably, our ship was heading right back across the Drake Passage to Antarctica for 10 days and leaving at 4pm the same day we landed!! And get this, the next set of passengers is not composed of mainly senior world travelers but rather 50 (50!) 10-15 year old Chinese kids and their teachers! The kids are apparently rewarded for their exceptional performance in school by going on a trip to Antarctica. My grade school sure wasn’t like that. I’m sure they’ll all be very well behaved if they earned this trip, but I can’t imagine a more different experience than the one I had.

Fast forward: just arrived at my hotel in Buenos Aires at 2am. At least I get late checkout waiting for my 10pm flight home. I haven’t downloaded any of my pictures from the Tierra del Fuego birding trip but these two are both representative of what I saw (took them on the pre-birding trip). We had even better views of a male (pictured) and female Magellanic Woodpecker today but of course I didn’t take my camera on that short walk. Silly me. But I DID have it for a pretty crazy stop on the way to the airport – just as we were leaving the national park. Eagle-eyed Willene spotted a beaver in the marsh. We parked, ran across the road, looked, ran back to the van (hi, camera!!), and snapped great pics of this industrious animal chewing off a branch of an Antarctic Beech, and dragging, then swimming with it, over to a hole in the bank. I’ve never seen a beaver before and we all chuckled when I told people that I’m from Oregon, the Beaver State, with a beaver on the state flag, and I’ve never seen one. So now I’ve seen an introduced species to Patagonia, one that they’d like to get rid of because it kills trees when they flood from beaver dams and alter the habitat. More lifers today as well – we saw everything we tried to find and spent all day walking around the Tierra del Fuego National Park on a gorgeous t-shirt weather day. This has certainly been a trip I will never forget and I’m sure I’ll be back again to add to these memories and experiences.

PS – now that I’m off the ship, my pictures are as they should be! I’ll replace the others when I get a chance.

Deception Island and Hannah Point on Livingston Island

How can this trip be nearly over? Although I’m ready to go home, I’ll miss so many things from this experience: 1) Doug’s enthusiastic announcements using Swahili, Hawaiian, and Fantastic!!! He and his wife Gail have led 66 trips to Tanzania and Kenya in the last 30 years and they have a house in Hawaii, 2) The landings at colonies of penguins and seals nearly everyday, 3) The incredible scenery everywhere you look, 4) The wonderful friends I’ve made, 5) Having everything done for you – no cooking, no dishes, no laundry.

Our last day is spent like so many of our days, fully booked. We begin the morning at Bailey Head, a beautiful rocky point bordering a volcanic black sand beach, on the outer portion of Deception Island. The inner portion is a water-filled caldera of this active volcano, steam streaming at the water’s edge. Bailey Head is known for its 100,000 strong Chinstrap Penguin colony, scattered in numerous colonies in a punchbowl-shaped area strewn with rounded hillsides. I spend my first hour standing at the surf’s edge (and sometimes knee deep in the surf in my knee rubber boots covered by rain pants), watching and photographing the penguins go into the water and crowd at the edge. Mesmerizing.

I take a few steps up to the top of the beach and record the penguin highway. As they come from the ocean, they walk up the right side of the broad path. The others heading to the ocean are on the left side, just like American drivers. From high on a hill overlooking the activities, it looks just like a Grand Central Station populated by penguins. I wonder over to the edge of a colony and watch parents display to each other while their two chicks either flop out on the ground, or beg food from their parents. There are neighborhood squabbles, some of them appearing to be particularly feisty. The scenery is stunning with moss covered hills situated below a massive glacier covered in black ash. We are reminded that this is the most dangerous part of our journey because we are cruising into the caldera of an active volcano.

About 20 passengers take part in a polar hot springs swim. They Zodiac to the edge of Whaler’s Bay where the steam seems to be rising the most. I initially thought I would go too but since I can barely go outside to take pictures without having all of my layers on, I decide to stay on the ship. It’s great fun watching the beach-goers strip down to their swimsuits, enter the warm edge of the water with a tentative look, then after about 4 steps when they hit cold water and a drop off, their faces turn to an agonized look, quickly making a retreat back to belly flop on the warm sand at the water’s edge, posting for pictures taken by others who wanted to watch the scene from a closer vantage point.

Our third stop of the day, and final landing of the trip, is Hannah Point on Livingston Island, one of the Shetland Islands. This place is quite diverse with both species of Antarctica’s flowering plants (!), breeding Kelp Gulls, South Polar Skuas, Southern Giant Petrels, Chinstrap and Gentoo Penguins, and the stinkiest wallow of Elephant Seals. I mainly sit on a comfortable rock step near a crèche of Gentoo Penguin chicks. Now that they are almost the same size as their parents, mom and dad are starting to limit the food they give them as the chicks prepare for fledging. Chick chases are common when a chick spots one of its parents coming up the slope, then runs towards the adult and chases him throughout the colony trying to get food. Sometimes the parent gives in and feeds the chick, but other times the parent keeps pecking the chick’s neck in an effort to stop the begging. The chicks seem to do most of the behaviors the adults do, including the ecstatic display with their bills pointed skyward, wings out, and braying phrases shouted out. As it begins to snow, I head back to the ship and warm up in a hot shower. Later that evening, we see the last few rocky stacks ringing Snow Island and begin our crossing of the Drake Passage. It’s supposed to be a bit rocky but not as bad as our previous crossing so I’m hopeful that I won’t get sick again.

Now we’re into the at-sea lecture stage of the trip. Today I learn about many of the special species of Tanzania and Kenya. Doug and Gail are leading a trip there right after they return from this trip. I’ll be joining them on one of their African safaris soon. Although this is Doug’s last Antarctica trip, he says he’ll do the African trips until he’s no longer able to do so. I admire the Cheesemans, their staff, and this group of passengers so much. It really has been an incredible trip and it sounds like the seasoned travelers to Antarctica and the staff all think this has been one of the best trips they’ve been on. I agree and look forward to my next trip with this group.

Next up: Cape Horn, the Beagle Channel, and finishing the trip with two days of birding Tierra del Fuego.

Port Lockroy

After our long day going through the Lemaire Channel, we head back north to Port Lockroy and anchor in the protected calm waters at 2am. The plan for the morning is to visit the British former atmospheric research site and current historical museum, gift shop and post office. The visitor limit to the tiny building is 60 people so the other portion of the ship goes to another Gentoo Penguin colony in the bay while waiting their turn to visit Port Lockroy.

After getting a few items at gift shop, I step outside to a sunny calm day and watch the chicks being fed right outside the doorstep. As mentioned in our briefing by British staff, the penguins would nest inside the buildings too if they were given permission. The British Antarctic Survey is doing a study to see if the colony on the tourist side of this footprint of an island are habituated and have the same reproductive success as the off-limits colony out of view. So far, so good – having large numbers of people come by and stare at you from 5’ away (they nest right next to the path) doesn’t disrupt their breeding season.

I was reluctant to leave and took the last Zodiac back to the ship. Then we went through the Peltiere Channel, a narrow, rarely traversed area with a view of the Lemaire Channel in the distance, then looped back north on the beautiful Neumayer Channel. We’ve only seen three cruise ships, three research or military ships, and four sailboats on our journey, so most of the time we feel like we have this entire area to ourselves. Visits to each of the sites are reserved the previous summer in a special agreement by all of the tour operators to ensure a special experience for all of the visitors.

The lack of sleep has finally caught up to me so after leaving the most stunning areas, I head back down to my room for a nap. I must’ve been exceptionally tired because normally my little iPod cricket alarm wakes me up. It turns out I slept right through two announcements over the speaker system that there were Orcas up ahead. My first knowledge of this was when the marine mammologist on board happened to mention it to someone she met in the hallway outside my room – 50 whales, super cool, you have to go up to the bridge to see them. I zip right up to the bridge just in time to hear everyone gushing about what an amazing experience it was and how the Orcas seemed to be at play, swimming right under the bow multiple times. Ted thanked the captain for handling the ship so well to enable everyone a great view without chasing the Orcas. Arrrgggh!! How could I miss this??!! Arthur Morris, a professional photographer, showed me his amazing photos that either made it worse (again, how did I sleep through this) or better (those are gorgeous photos of the whales).

The next day, we awake in Cierva Cove site of the Primavera Argentinian base. They are conducting hydro-acoustic research and radio to us to please not go too fast in our Zodiacs. As it turns out, we mainly putter or have the engines off as two humpback whales feed at the surface all around our boats for about 90 minutes. The running joke in our boat was that as soon as I put my long lens camera in my dry back in preparation for relocating to the shore of a Chinstrap Penguin colony, a whale would come and blow right next to our boat. That happened about 5 times! Finally we all depart for different corners of the bay. We concentrate on the penguins jumping to and from the water and porpoising in flocks (pods?) all around us. As we head in, it begins to snow, something we’ve seen nearly every day on the Peninsula.

The morning at Ciera Cove was spent moving slowly through the heavy brash ice to explore different shapes and colors of icebergs, while stopping by to photograph Leopard Seals and Crabeater Seals as we encountered them. Their sleepiness reminds me of me sleeping right through the Orcas. Some of the seals don’t wake up as we quietly motor around them, camera shutters and focus beeps sounding nearly non-stop.

PS – Today’s photos are really for the previous blog – Lemaire Channel, sunset from Booth Island, yawning Leopard Seal, and Gentoo Penguins with a high mountain behind them on Booth Island.

The Lemaire Channel in Brilliant Sunlight and an Antarctic Sunset at 65°S

Just when it seems like the previous best-day-ever can’t be topped, it’s shoved aside by the 24 hours that just ended with my first ever Antarctic sunset. The first jaw-dropping moment was as we cruised into Neko Harbour, a sight unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The water looks like black glass interrupted by icebergs, bergy bits, and brash ice. This is our first absolutely still night and the temperature is cold enough that grease ice is forming, creating a surface of something other than water or recognizable ice. I stand on the bridge so mesmerized by the experience of viewing the water and the craggy black rock and thick white glaciers rising steeply from the surface that by the time I remember to run to my room and get a camera, the effect is spoiled by the Zodiacs already in the water tracing rippled paths to the landing site.

It’s time to gear up for an evening (8-10pm) Zodiac cruise among the blue sculpted icebergs and seals hauled out on the ice. We drop off a passenger on shore and a couple asks if they can jump out on the cobbled shore, then jump back in for the cruise because this is our one and only continental Antarctica landing – all of our other landings this entire month are on islands. Because we’re anchored here for the night, I know I will set foot on the continent during the next morning’s landing so I stay in the Zodiac. We visit three icebergs. Two of them have Weddell Seals on them, occasionally tipping their heads up, neck skin draping into Shar Pei-like folds while oversize eyes peer at us. These are the most endearing of the three common seal species we see everyday now. After we had our fill of the resting seals, we headed over to a spaceship-shaped double iceberg with the purest blues and greens illuminated by the evening light. We must have made a dozen passes at slightly different angles and distances to get every possible shot before working our way slowly back through the ice towards the ship. As we approach the gangway, passengers on the Zodiac in front of us returning from a cruise ask if they can first go to land quickly to set foot on the continent just in case the weather takes a turn for the worse over night. We beg our Zodiac driver to do the same, and since our driver is the owner of the company, the always smiling and enthusiastic 74-year-old Doug Cheeseman, off we go to jump ashore, snap pics of each other, and zip back for 5 hours of sleep before the longest day of the trip, both in terms of daylight and activities planned.  

The 530am wake-up call comes too early for all of us but few miss the chance to explore the Gentoo Penguin colony spreading out up the hillside. I’m not in the mood to photograph penguins this morning – I’d rather watch their behavior for awhile without any concern for lighting, background, and composition.

The cloudy morning breaks open to sunshine very slowly, to the point where one of the passengers on his 9^th trip to Antarctica and I grumble about the new plan to stop outside the Lemaire Channel while we eat lunch, then go through. We think the tentative sunshine will disappear so we want to skip lunch altogether and go through the channel right now so we don’t miss anything. As usual, when Ted makes an alteration to the day’s schedule, we have a much better experience. The remaining clouds evaporate during lunch and we are treated to one of the most spectacular views through the most sought-after passage in Antarctica. Everyone has all of their gear on, shooting scenes from every possible angle. The channel is quite narrow and multiple huge peaks rise directly above us, giving the effect of being high in the Swiss Alps even though we’re at sea level. As we continue south, the sea ice thickens into flat pancakes, with seals almost always visible napping on them. The two species we see the most are Crabeater Seals and Leopard Seals, with Leopards outnumbering Crabeaters (so named because they eat krill – small crustaceans related to crabs). The Leopard Seals also eat a lot of krill but they are famous for being stealthy predators of penguins. They shake the penguin out of its skin leaving only the exterior of the penguin and its neck vertebrae and skull. My friend commented that he could tell resting Leopard Seals from Crabeater Seals because the Leopard Seals always have bloody bits of meat on their ice beds. Up close, Leopard Seals have a snake-like smile and large canines, but their premolars and molars are the same tri-point formation as the Crabeater Seals’ teeth for sieving krill.

We reach the furthest point south of our trip at Petermann Island, 65° 10’ S latitude, just outside the Antarctic Circle. We likely could have made use of the icebreaker strength of our vessel to continue since the sea ice completely covered the water’s surface, but instead we turned around and made our way to the other side of Booth Island (which forms one half of the Lemaire Channel’s walls).

After dinner, it was time for either a sunset Zodiac cruise or a landing at a Gentoo and Chinstrap Penguin colony. I opted for the landing. The late evening light and variety of penguins with chicks afforded great viewing and photography. As we were being rounded up for the last boat back to the ship at 11pm, I lingered to watch my first, and possibly last, Antarctic sunset.

PS – no Lemaire Channel pictures for this posting because I haven’t downloaded them yet! I’ve filled my laptop’s hard drive and only the generosity of other passengers in lending memory cards and back-up space on hard drives is guaranteeing space for my pictures. Of course this only delays the heavy editing until later but I’d rather shoot now and edit during the Drake Passage. I grossly underestimated how much memory I would go through and I’m on the low side in comparison to others.

Humpback Whales Cavorting And Penguins Jumping Off Icebergs

It’s difficult to imagine a better day than today. Sunny and calm waters – a relief after 3+ days of rolling seasickness seas. Tabular icebergs. Everywhere. Humpback whales ahead! Quick, climb the ladder up to the top deck (8^th) for the 360° view. There’s a pair over there, wait, another pair behind us and five more ahead mingling in a wild mix of whitewater, flukes, fins, pleated throats, and barnacle-laced heads poking out of the water. The water is so clear we can see the white flippers at least 50 feet deep allowing us to watch them come to the surface, frantically clicking shutters the entire time. We slowly follow each group of whales around in meandering curves through the tabular icebergs, clearly not disturbing them because they keep swimming towards us while we idle. At one point, I can see a whale is getting ready to surface immediately to the port side of the bow. I shout down to all of the photographers pointing their cameras 100 meters off at another whale that this one is about to blow right below them. Cameras down. Whoops of excitement circulate on all decks. After a visit to the port side, the whale swims under the bow, white flippers visible first as it appears on the starboard side, and up it comes again to give the other half of its enthusiastic audience an amazing view. I think I said amazing 100 times yesterday.

Next up: off in the distance, a pod of Orcas is spotted. We head towards them, past more Humpbacks. We spot a male Orca, with his very tall dorsal fin, going along one side of the brash ice, and a pod of eight Orcas with smaller fins (females and younger whales most likely) on the other side. These are the lightest colored Orcas (or Killer Whales) I’ve ever seen, kind of a peachy beige color with the same patterning of the Orcas I’m used to in the San Juan Islands of Washington. Today I learn from a poster in our lecture room that there are no fewer than 12 types of Killer Whales. The type we saw is likely the Pack Ice Killer Whale and the lighter color is partially due to a growth of diatoms that can soften the black with the diatoms’ coloration.

After all of the excitement of the whales, people ran back to their rooms to trade out spent batteries, full storage cards, and get more lenses. We were all caught by surprise by the whales right as we finished breakfast and we were shooting pictures and videos right up to lunch four hours later. The next subject of our attention and affection was Adelie Penguins on icebergs. Binoculars up to scan every single iceberg, not only for Adelies to swerve the ship towards, but for the elusive Emperor Penguin. It’s not unusual to spend an entire day scanning for the first Emperor Penguin but we spot one within an hour, continuing our remarkable streak of good luck (making every landing so far is quite rare). The Emperor is nearly twice as big as the conveniently situated Adelie right next to it on a big iceberg. We circle around to them so everyone can get a good look. The Emperor is this year’s young, lacking the colors found on adults, but beautiful in a palette of grays and blacks surrounding a bright white belly.

To round out this already perfect day, we go for a late afternoon Zodiac cruise around the icebergs floating next to a huge Adelie Penguin colony at Paulet Island, off the coast of the Antarctic Peninsula. I haven’t set foot on land yet, but the cruise provides a chance to observe penguins away from the colony as they porpoise through the water, to and from their offshore loafing bergs. I’m getting better at figuring out the best exposure settings and shooting frames continuously through action sequences. Even though it’s 26°F with a brisk breeze and decent chop, I’m warm as I kneel, sit, and stand (briefly!) to get the best looks at each scene. Tomorrow I hope to go ashore and see the colony we can smell so well from the ship.

Cookies

Tossed. 3X. Had to happen sooner or later. Ted told us this is the worst crossing they’ve had from South Georgia to the Peninsula so at least I’m not a complete wimp re these seas. At first it was fun watching the spray blow all the way up to the 7^th deck bridge, but all of those big ups and crashing downs finally got to me after I ate a cookie during a 75-minute talk in the basement (3^rd deck). No windows, lots of motion. About 25% of passengers are missing from meals. When I stayed in bed last night instead of going to dinner, I was touched by how everyone takes care of each other on board. My roommate offered anti-nausea medication and candied ginger to me. She also brought back the next day’s schedule for me and filled me in on announcements. My best friend on board gave me his wrist relief bands and brought me bread from the dining room. Luckily the night went quickly and I slept off that round of illness. The seas appear to be getting progressively settled but I went out on the bow to experience the wind and spray again just to be sure. One of the staff members out there pointed out the krill on the deck – they must’ve come over with the spray last night – amazing! While on the bow, I spotted a fin whale (identified by the white baleen on the right side of its mouth, but not the left side interestingly). It’s pretty quiet today re wildlife but yesterday was a bonanza.  Although I spotted the first and only whale of the day so far, yesterday was packed full with 143 whales! I saw about 20 of those whales between naps, talks, and meals.

One of the announcements yesterday is that we’re skipping the Orkneys and heading directly to Antarctica to beat some drifting ice that may box us out of a key landing. I spotted the westernmost Orkney Island, Inaccessible Island (how’s that for a name? Looked just like something out of Lord of the Rings except surrounded by ocean). Closer to us was a huge double iceberg. I saw pink staining on the snow and a closer look revealed lots of black dots. Chinstrap Penguins (about 60) and their guano (always a characteristic orange-pink due to the color of krill). We’ll be scrutinizing every iceberg for penguins in hope of seeing an Emperor Penguin. Emperors were the stars of March of the Penguins. Their chicks have fledged from their icy inland breeding area by now so any we see will just be lucky sightings. This is the only species where we can’t visit the breeding colony.

Today’s lunchtime announcement was about a 6.7 earthquake that just occurred not far from where we’re heading. Tsunami danger is essentially nil for us and they didn’t predict much of an impact on land either based on previous earthquakes in this area. We’ll be getting into some ice this evening or tomorrow and then the Zodiac cruises begin, along with landings to see Adele Penguin colonies, Leopard Seals, Weddell Seals, Crabeater Seals, and of course a bunch of whales including Minke, Humpback, Orca, Fin, and Southern Right Whales. I can hardly wait to get to coastal waters and the incredible abundance of wildlife along the Antarctic Peninsula.  

Hippo Ears

Imperial Cormorant (Blue-eyed Shag) at Cooper Bay, South Georgia Island

A molting adult King Penguin at Gold Harbour

Cooper Bay, South Georgia Island

Northern Giant Petrel nibbling a Macaroni Penguin skin at Cooper Bay

My friend from South Africa mentioned to me as we passed by two icebergs in Drygalski Fjord this morning that she calls icebergs hippo ears. The majority of the iceberg is below the surface. I’d feel a little more confident cruising by icebergs if we had some way to detect the underwater portion by sonar ahead of us but we only have the depth finder. We see our second large iceberg this afternoon as we buck away from the southern tip of South Georgia Island. I say buck away because I got up on the bow with the several other thrill seekers and we went way up the swell and crashed down, spray pushing out and blowing over us.



The barf bags are back up lining the railings for impromptu use. After spending most of the early afternoon outside watching the prions, albatrosses, and petrels zoom by on wind-whipped seas, I head to bed for a long afternoon nap. Surprisingly, I don’t roll around too much with these rolling seas. Instead I just get lullabied to sleep. Not as many people at dinner tonight. I can understand the desire to just stay in bed but with a 50-hour crossing to the Orkney Islands, I have to be semi-productive with this rare down time.

The patch seems to once again be saving me from seasickness so it’s more of an issue not getting hurt going up and down the 3 flights of stairs I take routinely from my room on the 4^th deck to the bridge on the 7^th deck, then back to the library (my hang-out) on the 6^th deck. Ted reminds us constantly to “save one hand for the ship” because it’s so easy to lose your balance on the steep steps. A few years ago, a passenger had both hands full with snacks and cameras, lost her balance, hit her head on a railing and died. I usually try to keep both hands free to grab the railings. Today I got a bit greedy and zoomed from the 6^th to the 3^rd deck (bar area and lecture room) to get a chocolate chip cookie (afternoon fresh baked cookies everyday!). I made it down fine (empty hands), but coming back up with only one hand for the railing and another for the cookie, I tripped and tossed my cookies! Well, I just wanted to say that phrase but I did break off a corner of my cookie on the stair, but ate the rest.

King Penguins and Elephant Seals at Gold Harbour, South Georgia Island

Southern Elephant Seal

Impressive nails on a Southern Elephant Seal at Gold Harbour.

After seeing the “hippo ears” in the fjord today, I went on a Zodiac cruise in Cooper Bay and spotted a couple new species of birds and got lots of photos. Then it was up to the Macaroni Penguin colony for my last chance to see chicks with lots of seal pups on the trail up. The final trip away from South Georgia Island was wavy and windy with icy, craggy peaks slipping away from view as the next big iceberg came into focus. I’m heading south to see even more sights come to life from my imagination.