Enterprise Anchorage, Antarctica

We woke up this morning to blowing snow, or “fökk og rökk”, pronounced “fukaduk”. Our chef, Kari, taught us this funny Norwegian expression that we all took great pleasure in repeating. It roughly translates to “blowing snow and seaspray mayhem”. What a fantastic phrase to retain.

Simon, our first mate, went to work chipping the ice and snow off the boat before we headed out for Enterprise Anchorage. A neon blue iceberg shone brightly in the distance, and we headed over to take a look. As we got closer, a large dark object became visible directly next to it. It turned out to be a nearly black iceberg. The contrast of the black against the brilliant blue was striking.

We saw two humpback whales on our way to study the icebergs, and they put on a playful show with their barnacled fins and bowed, soaring backs, before bidding us farewell with a cascade of water running over their tails.

Our journey took us through Grahams Passage, which we crossed on our way into Gerlache Strait. The passage is too narrow for larger boats to pass, so we had the area to ourselves. A light snow was falling, and the fog was heavy and low, muffling the sound of the boat. It was haunting, and eerily quiet. Immense, sculptured, dimpled icebergs stood sentinel over the bay.

The sea soon opened up, and we saw several more humpback whales in the distance. As we got closer, we slowed down to an idle. The whales came closer and closer, passing just under our boat, the white of their dorsal fin visible just under the water. I have never been close enough to see the shape of a humpback’s jaw, which is lumpy and curvy and graceful, all at once. We were close enough to smell the fishy scent of their breath. Being around these mystical creatures is a spiritual experience, and I’ve never been to a church service that made me feel more alive.

We arrived at the Enterprise Anchorage and prepared the Zodiac. We were on a mission. Actually, we had two. First, our captain, Ben, bet us the price of our trips on a guarantee of seeing our first Crabeater seal. And, we needed to retrieve some ice for the scotch we had back on board.

We first made a stop at a small island with a high population of fur seals. Highly territorial fur seals, as it turned out. I got one quick shot of one that was making his way toward me as briskly as a seal can, which was fortunately a relatively slow pace. This gave me an opportunity to hastily retreat while our expedition leader intervened. As it turns out, the sound of a stick on a rock accompanied by a steely stare works brilliantly, and balance was restored. The fur seals sort of freaked me out after that, no matter how cute they are.

Back on the zodiac, we resumed our hunt for the Crabeater and the best possible chunk of ice. There were grand, textured, colorful icebergs throughout the bay, and we came across a cave with a pale shade of blue that indicated a recent calving. As we headed to investigate, we passed a Weddell with the most beautiful face. She was mesmerizing, and while we watched her, John spotted a lone Crabeater across the bay. Sigh … looks like the trip is on us.

The crabbie That cost us our bet.

Both missions accomplished, we headed back to the boat for scotch over some (really old) ice. Cheers!