Day 4 – Couverville Island & Errera Channel (8 Dec)

We steamed southward through the night. In the AM, we had already arrived at the Errera Channel, and anchored at Couverville Island. This is Antarctica proper, though not the mainland.

It turned out to be a day of extraordinary kayaking. After breakfast, we loaded the kayaks on the Zodiacs themselves (a deviation from our normal kayak protocol) to make landfall with the rest of the passengers on a penguin-covered beach on the little island of Couverville.

The rest of passenger group Zodiac-ed over to walk amongst the penguins (Chinstraps, mostly.) After a short lookaround at the penguins, all kayakers set out. We spent a little time near the penguin tourist landing, taking photos, Hollywood-style, of each of us in front of picturesque bergs, posing with arms in a paddling motion while Frode snapped pictures. In his brusque style, he said to me at some point, “Lean forward for the picture, or you’re going to look stupid in the photo.” That made me laugh. After that, we decide we have enough time to circumnavigate the island, clockwise, and end up at the Prof. Molchanov. We sight another vessel – someone supposes it is the National Geographic Endeavor. It’s a little windy, but just beautiful, with some deep blue bergs – and many more photos. My rudder in the blue kayak is useless, so I pull it up. Sarah lags, but not badly. All in all, very nice.

Back on board, we have lunch. Meals are pretty regulated in that they occur at an announced time, everyone who wants to eat is expected to show up during the appointed hour, and we all remain seated while the Russian kitchen staff really humps to get the typically three course meal out. This happens no matter how the ship is moving, and on more than one occasion, we all grab for tipping soup tureens and spilling water glasses as crashing noise come from the kitchen. I never do learn the head Russian woman’s name, though I ask a couple of times, I fail to understand it, and I never see her on board the ship except at mealtimes.

Portions are modest, but the food is good. A typical lunch would be: a small amount of greens, a cup of broth, a bowl of noodles with chicken (or “chook” as my Aussie dining companions would say!). Always at the end of lunch and dinner is a modest dessert after, say strawberry spongecake. Coffee, tea service. No one drinks alcohol during lunch, that I can see. Some folks have wine with dinner.

Afternoon, we continue thru Errera Channel, cross Andvord Bay, then through the Aguirre Passage on the way to Paradise Harbour. We pass a Chilean research station, “Gabriel Gonzalez Videla.” I hear that we made radio contact between the bridge and the station, and that this station routines asks cruise ships to identify themselves and state their intentions, as though being challenged in Chilean national waters. We continue on to a Argentine station which is actually on the mainland itself. “Almirante Brown.” No one home, as is the case for many of these Argentine station, which appear to be here to stake a claim, and nothing more.

Anchorage. It’s very different here. Couverville had a few large bergs. Here, the water is littered with countless thousands of relatively small bergs and chunks of ice.

We set out on a combination kayak and landfall trip. The plan was to kayak for 90 minutes, and then join Zodiac-ers at the Almirante Brown station for a short hike, and a hill, and our first continental landing. I volunteer to give up my single and paddle with Sarah. She’s a little challenged in the double kayak. It is impossible to avoid hitting ice with our kayaks, skilled operators or not. We depart this time directly from the gangway and head towards Skorptorn (sp?), a dead end bay. Kate falls way behind. The bay is surrounded by steep mountains all pushing glacial faces into the sea. While we wait for Kate to catch up (we’re now at a bend) Patrick takes off, ignoring Frode’s earlier caution about staying together. Kate catches up, now Frode and the support Zodiac have to go look for Patrick. Meanwhile, one of the tourist cruise Zodiacs calls in a leopard seal, that then heads towards us, making me a little nervous. Pat can no longer be seen. The situation is a little riskier than it should be, because Frode and the support Zodiac are further up Skoptorn, looking for Pat, while the rest of us hang back in a group. Without a Zodiac or a radio, if something bad happened, we would not be able to signal for help. Finally, Frode returns with Pat in tow. Sheesh.

We don’t have much time now for the 2nd half - a landing at the Argentinian station. But we do land briefly. It’s our first “continental” landing. My paddling partner Sarah is annoyed at the somewhat chaotic afternoon. But I simply climb partway up the 70m hill behind Almirante Brown for a view. I’m rewarded with a dramatic view of this part of Paradise Harbour. But the skies are grey now, and it’s snowing.
We get back into the kayaks, and make a quick few hundred meter trip back to the Prof. M, which is in sight of the landing/station area. I am too tired to get my skirt on, and paddle back with my cockpit unskirted.

We return to find two surprises back on board: (1) preparation for an Antarctic polar swim (plus a sauna afterwards) for the brave, and (2) a BBQ/party for all, including some crew, on the stern.

For the swim, the crew lowered the gangway and brought out a short loop of rope. Those crazy enough to try, line up on the main deck near the gangway, while a small team of Russians plus Frode help people in and out of the water. Most of the approximately twenty folks getting into the water are Finnish women. The younger Anglophones fall in, too. Me, Patrick, Sarah, Kate, a quiet Japanese guy named Yama, young Russian Dimitri, German Sielke, and Kathryn. The procedure is to tie a rope around you before you get in, so you can be pulled back after the shock of the freezing plunge. The Finns calmly lower themselves in, swim about, and pull themselves out. Some Anglophones dive. I cannonball with a yell. It’s a big shock, though I can move once in the water. Sputtering, I thrash back to the gangway immediately.

Afterwards, we squeeze into the small Deck 2 sauna, and Natalie uses my camera to take foggy pix of us by throwing open the sauna door unexpectedly.

The BBQ is an actual BBQ – and there is a lot of meat. Some of the crew are around, and all the staff. We stood around on the stern of the Prof M, eating and drinking. It started snowing after a bit, but that didn’t stop people from dancing to some pretty random music piped over the PA system. It slowly turned into a dance party. The “chicken dance”, swing dancing, rock and roll... Not feeling the dance spirit, I slipped away to the bar. When it got darker and colder, the rump of the party moved into the bar, for crazier dancing, and I moved into my cabin. Even Viekko lasted longer at the party than me…