Hanusse Bay: Navigating Through Ice Fields

The morning began with the ship navigating through expansive ice fields in Hanusse Bay. Our vessel, a Polar Class 6 ship, is specifically designed for these conditions. They can operate year-round in medium first-year ice (sea ice from one winter 70 – 120 cm thick) during summer/autumn, allowing us to safely travel through areas that would be inaccessible to standard vessels.

From a distance, the ice field appeared solid, almost like land, but our ship glided through effortlessly. The crew explained that during the colder months, the ice is more solid, requiring the ship to plow through it. On other voyages, guests sometimes even got the chance to disembark from the ship and walk on the ice.

For us, the ice simply bounced off the hull as we moved forward. There was something deeply calming about watching the pieces of ice gently deflect from the ship’s reinforced exterior. We were also lucky enough to see a whale in the distance with our binoculars.

One of the crew members, who serves as the expedition photographer, captured the scene with a drone and shared the spectacular aerial views with us, offering a perspective of our ship sailing through the vast white expanse.

One of the ship’s photographers captured the journey with a drone, offering us a new perspective on the icy expanse. The images highlighted the contrast between the deep blue sea and the scattered ice formations, a view only possible in such a remote part of the world.

Polar Plunge and Minke Whale Sighting

After navigating the ice field, we were invited to take part in a long-standing tradition – the polar plunge. This involves jumping into the near-freezing Antarctic waters, which are even colder than typical freshwater due to the lower freezing point of salt water. The crew encouraged participation, and assured everyone that while the initial shock is substantial, the aftermath leaves you feeling “like a million bucks” due to the rush of endorphins and increased circulation. Watching people do the plunge, we could see all sorts of different reactions as they came out of the water, ranging from shivering to excitement – and they were all proud of having completed this Antarctic rite of passage. There were even instances where when a couple jumped into the water, they’d fight for who’d be first to get out of the freezing water, hinting at the brain’s mechanisms in the struggle for survival. Later that evening there was a lecture on the benefits of cold, like positive changes in blood pressure, heart rate, heart function or mood, but these claims are shaky at best. They even mentioned an extreme athlete Wim Hof, who tried swimming from one ice hole to another – he didn’t succeed, but when he got out of the water, his eyes were frozen.

At some point, a whale appeared, and the people not doing the plunge all shifted their gaze to observe the whale. It decided to come greet us – I suppose it was curious at all the commotion and wanted to see what was going on.

The curious whale swam around our vessel, seeming fully aware of our presence. It almost appeared to be performing for us, surfacing in different places, and waving to us with its flipper and tail.

Detaille Island: Base W

Upon landing at Detaille Island, we were greeted by several Weddell seals lounging along the shore. It’s so cool that everywhere we go, we can encounter wildlife in their natural habitats.

On the island, we encountered a single chinstrap penguin, named for the distinctive black stripe under their chins, and they’re also a species we hadn’t yet seen on our expedition.

Detaille Island is home to a former British Antarctic Survey station, known as Base W. Established in 1956, this research station was in operation until 1959, when difficult ice conditions forced its rapid abandonment. Today, the base serves as a time capsule of Antarctic exploration in the 1950s, with items including scientific equipment, food tins, and personal effects still visible inside.

As we walked around the island, we encountered a penguin blocking our path. We couldn’t walk past it because of the 5 metre rule, and the snow around it was too deep. So all we could do was wait for it to leave, and it exhibited a cat-like behaviour where it knew we were trying to pass and stayed there to block us on purpose.

A few Adélie penguins were also present, leading to an interesting interaction. I wondered how these they would interact with each other. Eventually, the lone chinstrap penguin found itself approached by several Adélies. Rather than hostility, they seemed to acknowledge each other, even appearing to socialize.

The more I watched the penguins, the more I found them entertaining. They had such a carefree attitude – hopping across the ice, waddling around in their messy orange-stained colony, and occasionally flopping onto their bellies to slide across the snow. Some stood curiously observing us, while others squabbled over pebbles or leapt between the small icebergs near the shore. There was something amusing about how they went about their day, completely unbothered by the world around them.

Overall, I’ve been amazed at how the expedition crew have been able to plan out itineraries that keep one-upping the experiences of the day before. But it makes sense – they come out to Antarctica week after week, so I’m sure they know many other spots that wouldn’t fit in our itinerary either.

Bongrain Point

The morning began with a slightly challenging landing at Bongrain Point. Our skilled zodiac drivers carefully navigated through numerous small icebergs scattered across the water. At one particularly difficult passage, one of the crew members actually had to enter the frigid water to push an iceberg out of our path – they were there to make sure their guests were safe and could enjoy the adventure.

Once ashore, we were greeted by a colony of Adélie penguins spread across the rocky beach. The colony had a distinct orange hue – a result of their filthy guano staining the landscape.

We even got to see the adult penguins feeding their young.

We watched as penguins hopped onto the small icebergs near the shore, skillfully balancing on the shifting ice.

Nearby, we spotted skeletal remains of birds, though their cause of death was uncertain. Given recent concerns about avian flu, we briefly speculated about the possibility, though it was more likely a natural occurrence, but we’ll never know.  

Similar to our previous visit to Red Rock Ridge, we remained along the shoreline during our exploration. Looming inland were massive mountains that would present a significant challenge to traverse on foot. Beyond these natural barriers likely lies little more than additional rock and ice formations, as Antarctica lacks terrestrial life forms that cannot swim or fly, with the exception of some extraordinarily hardy plant species and microscopic fauna.

One fascinating geological feature we noticed was the abundance of rocks with remarkably clean splits along the beach. The most likely explanation was probably due to water seeping into tiny cracks in the rocks, then as the ice freezes, it expands, gradually forcing the stone apart.

Lagoon Island

Our afternoon activity shifted from a landing to a zodiac tour around Lagoon Island, allowing us to experience the Antarctic environment from a different perspective.

We cruised past groups of elephant seals sprawled on the shore, their massive bodies lounging contentedly after feeding (I interpret this to be a food coma). We learned that these seals will eventually engage in territorial battles to establish dominance, with the victorious male earning mating privileges with the females – nature’s ancient selection process at work. They are the deepest diving air-breathing non-cetaceans and have been recorded at a maximum of 2,388 m. They eat a wide variety of sea life such as squid, fish, and krill.

Further along our journey, we spotted what initially appeared to be another penguin colony from a distance. However, our knowledgeable guides identified them as Antarctic cormorants. While penguins and cormorants are both black and white, the key distinction is that cormorants can fly, unlike penguins, and their colonies aren’t orange with guano. Our guide shared a helpful identification tip: “if it looks like a penguin but flies, it’s probably a cormorant.”

The zodiac tour also provided a close-up view of icebergs in various stages of melting. Their shapes and sizes were ever-changing, shaped by differences in ice density and shifting weight distribution. Occasionally, when a section of an iceberg melted unevenly, it could rotate about, exposing a fresh surface to the elements.

In the distance, we could see enormous ice mountains stretching across the horizon. The clear Antarctic air created an interesting optical illusion—these massive formations appeared much closer than their actual distance. This phenomenon made it challenging to accurately gauge the scale of the landscape, adding to the otherworldly quality of the Antarctic environment.

Just like the day before, as we experience the continent in different ways, we continue to gain a new appreciation for the immensity and raw beauty of Antarctica – a continent largely untouched by human influence, where nature still reigns supreme.

Even in peak summer in the southern hemisphere, January in Antarctica still experiences freezing temperatures with wind chill, and we needed to dress accordingly. In addition to layering up, they provided each guest a pair of boots and a lifejacket to use for the cruise that would be used for the landings. The expedition staff would call us by group for us to board Zodiacs (a brand of rugged, inflatable boats), to take us from the ship to the shore. We were warned that landings could happen on rocky beaches with water up to the knees.

Red Rock Ridge: Adelie Penguin Colony

As we waited in anticipation of the first landing, I chatted with a friendly crew member who was visiting the shore with us about the ship like its power systems, tech stuff, and later it turned out that the fellow was actually the captain himself – I couldn’t tell since he was bundled up. He was with his wife, who took time off to join him on this particular voyage. We met them several times later on the cruise and they were both very nice people to talk to.

The expedition staff had chosen a rocky shore for us to make the wet landing. We stepped off the Zodiac into water that went about up to our shins, and they helped us out of the water. This was it, we finally made it.

The mountainous landscape challenged our preconceptions of Antarctica; instead of flat ice shelves, jagged peaks and volcanic rock rose before us, their exposed rock faces contrasting starkly against the white snow and ice. In some places, the ground was a mix of snow, rocks, and mossy patches of hardy lichen—the only vegetation capable of surviving in this extreme climate. Surprisingly, it wasn’t cold – the air temperature hovered around freezing, but without any wind chill.

The key highlight of this landing was the chance to observe an Adelie penguin colony. Adelie penguins are most southerly distributed penguin species, perfectly adapted to Antarctica’s extreme conditions. Their distinctive white eye-ring against black head feathers gives them a distinctive “tuxedo with goggles” appearance. The penguins showed curious interest in their human visitors, keeping a respectful distance while clearly observing us. We arrived during their breeding season, so we saw a mixture of adults and newly hatched chicks.

Contrary to popular animated depictions, penguins don’t simply slide everywhere. They use their feet to push themselves along when belly-flopping across the ice, and they genuinely waddle when walking.

Despite their adorable behaviour, the colony had a strong, unmistakable odour. The birds live amid their own waste, referred to as guano, which accumulates in their breeding areas. This guano is so pungent that one expedition staff member remarked, “if you get it on your clothes, you may as well just burn them.” Their guano stained the snow and the penguins themselves with orange patches. The term “guano” comes from the Quechua language of Peru and was originally used to describe the excrement of seabirds, bats, and seals that was collected for use as fertilizer due to its high nitrogen content.

Antarctic skuas patrolled the skies above the penguin colony, providing a glimpse into Antarctica’s harsh food chain. These large, gull-like birds are relentless predators, known for their aggressive tactics in hunting penguin eggs and chicks. With their powerful build and hooked bills, skuas can dive-bomb distracted penguin parents and snatch their vulnerable offspring in seconds. They also practice kleptoparasitism – stealing food from other birds – and will scavenge from carcasses when available. They’re are important components of the Antarctic ecosystem, though their predatory nature often earns them an unfair villainous reputation among visitors sympathetic to the penguins.

When we returned to the ship, we followed biosecurity measures to protect Antarctica’s fragile ecosystem, by washing our boots in a cleaning fluid to prevent the transfer of contaminants between landing sites.

Stonington Island: Traces of Human History

Our second landing brought us to Stonington Island, where the continent’s sparse human history became evident through abandoned research stations.

Despite Antarctica’s remote location and harsh conditions, humans have maintained a presence here for scientific purposes since the early 20th century.

Stonington Island houses two historic research bases: East Base (American, established 1939) and Base E (British, established 1946). These stations served as important outposts for early scientific exploration in Antarctica, supporting research in geology, meteorology, and biology.

Despite its remoteness, Stonington Island was not devoid of life. A few penguins slid across the ice while a solitary seal lounged in the distance. Penguins always seem to walk single file, and the ones in the back like to wait until their “leader” makes the first move.

Witnessing a piece of ice calve from the nearby ice shelf was another highlight. A massive chunk broke off, crashing into the water and creating a wave large enough to flip over before settling into its new position.

Reflections

Our expedition to Antarctica provided rare insights into one of Earth’s last truly wild places, especially having the opportunity to cross the Antartic Circle. After returning from the entire cruise, I had followed the cruise company’s ship tracker, and I haven’t seen it cross the Antarctic Circle on its other voyages so far, which made the experience more special, and that the crew was serious that they said how rare it was go sail this far south.

Each experience today deepened our appreciation for this extraordinary continent. As temporary visitors to this frozen realm, we left with only photographs and memories. We eagerly awaited the adventures to follow in the next few days.