Ooooh - Icebergs!

A new day.  Now, where am I?

Still in the Drake Passage.  Bugger.

But this morning is a mandatory talk from our expedition leader, on Antarctic safety & protocol. No attendance, no going ashore for the whole trip.  Mal de mere, or no mal de mere, you have to be there.

So, ignoring my queasy state, I leapt out of bed, bounced off the walls of the shower, dressed and left the cabin before my stomach could work out what was going on.  Breakfast?  Hmm, let's not push my luck.  I wandered upstairs to get some fresh air on deck.  Very fresh air.  Brrrrrr.  Actually forget fresh, it's freezing out here!

At 9:30 we filed in for our "do's and don'ts" talk.  John, our expedition leader stood at the door, looking stern and ticking off our names on his list as we went in.  Full attendance - no-one was going to be confined to ship!  Our talk told us what clothing we needed to wear to avoid freezing, procedures for leaving ship, getting into and out of the zodiacs, and how to behave (and how not to behave) ashore.  We were warned not to expect the agenda that had been set out for us in the brochure. "In Antarctica the ice and the weather decide".

Straight back out on deck - it really does work to curb seasickness, you don't notice it at all when you're outside.  Few others were bothering, preferring to stay in the warm feeling queasy. And then something truly magical happened.  Through the misty murk I spotted snowy mountains of the Southern Shetlands in the distance, and my first iceberg appeared in front of us.  This was Antarctica.  Suddenly, places that, from the comfort of my Kent home had seemed so far away and inaccessible, were appearing before my eyes. I was at the bottom of the world, and home is a long way away.  I really can't describe this feeling.  You're just going to have to go feel it for yourself.  But you now realise why you've just gone through the hell of the Drake Passage, and if you were asking yourself 'is this really worth it?' yesterday, today you have your answer.

And my first sighting of humpback whales.  No-one but me and a Frenchman were witness, with no-one else around the whales came out to play.  Me and Frenchman congratulated each other (I think) in our respective languages and formed a friendship based on a total lack of understanding of each others language, that lasted the whole trip.

After lunch (a remarkably sober one - we had zodiacs to negotiate this afternoon), we arrived at our first destination, Half Moon Island.  To protect the Antarctic environment, we were going ashore in small groups, to limit the number of people on land at any given time.  I was in the second group, so we all sat around, fully kitted out, unable to move in so many layers, waiting for our call.  We were strapped into life jackets and now REALLY unable to move.  Then we found out we needed our security passes to leave ship - we were scanned out and back in again so the crew could be sure they didn't leave anyone behind.  Our passes were in pockets, and we couldn't move. "Don't worry, just point to the pocket, and I'll get it out for you", Jerome offered helpfully.  Under my lifejacket, in the breast pocket of my coat.  Ah well, I have no shame.

Unable to see our feet, or bend our legs, we carefully negotiated the steps down to the pontoon, and looked wide-eyed at the inflatable dinghy that was bobbing around next to it.  You want us to step off this nice secure ship, into that?  A nice man on the pontoon takes your hand, another nice man in the zodiac takes you wrist in the obligatory sailors handshake, and you take a leap of faith into the boat.  Sit down on the side of the boat, and hang on tight.

That first zodiac ride was unforgetable.  The sea was full of ice, and this came over our heads and down our necks as we ploughed through the water. Note to self: always put hood up before getting on the zodiac.  For now there was nothing we could do, as we couldn't let go in order to put our hoods up. If you want to know how it feels, get someone to drop crushed ice cubes down your back and your front.  Nice, isn't it?

We landed on the beach, and attempted to get out of the zodiacs as instructed. This involves sitting on the side of the bow of the dinghy, facing the rear, then swinging your legs up and over the side, with a modicum of dignity.  Only failed on the dignity.

Ashore, we were free to wander.  Well, so long as we avoided penguins, seals, lichen, moss, and didn't stray to the wrong side of the no-go-zone markers put out to protect fragile areas. Humans have few rights here, the wildlife takes priority. You are welcome to use the paths made by the penguins, unless a penguin wants it. In which case you'll kindly step off and take your chances on the icy slopes. Do try not to slip though, otherwise you'll collide with the seal at the bottom, and he really wouldn't like that.  Remember you must keep 15 ft between you and the wildlife.

But..... no-one told the wildlife the rules.  So stand still, be patient, and after a while the penguins will come to you. Just wander up, for a look at you.  And you just stand there, kneecap to eye with a penguin.  Over to your left, a group of seals slumbering; and just over your shoulder the huge snowcovered mountains of King George Island.  You have to pinch yourself.  Does it get any better?  One of the naturalists took us down to one of the seal groups, armed with a big stick (the naturalist, not the seals).  Strange to believe, but these chaps can outrun you, and are likely to give you a nasty bite (the seals, not the naturalists). Hence approach with caution.  You think you're looking at a load of rocks, until one stretches & yawns.

Eventually it was time to be strapped back into a lifejacket and get back in a zodiac.  Not easy.  We just about managed to roll ourselves back in, and headed back to ship.  Now, in order to preserve Antarctica - and your ship - there is a strict cleaning procedure.  Before you leave ship you clean your boots to ensure no alien items are taken ashore; and you do the same on your return to ship - although this has more to do with not walking guano into the carpets.....   Hot soup greeted us, and the lounge was transformed into an explorers 'mess room' as wet gear was dumped on the floor and the rookie explorers relaxed.

Back in my cabin, after a hot shower, there is time to reflect on the day. It's almost too much to get my head around.  This morning I felt near death.  And now I feel full of life, with an excitement & exhilaration I've never felt before. I'm in Antarctica.  I'm in a place most people have never seen, will never see.  And it's beautiful.  I feel just very, very happy.

After dinner (boy I was ravenous!), we're briefed on tomorrow's agenda.  Penguin Island - with optional volcano.  One of our number is muttering about another island and when are we heading South to the mainland.  Silly boy, stop wishing your time away.  The rest of us are just happy to be here.