Saturday, 16 May 2020

Final Word: My, How the World Has Changed - also, An Antarctica Retrospective

Three and a half months ago, hubs and I were in Argentina, at fin del mundo, getting ready to board a boat with just under 200 other passengers that would take us to Antarctica. We'd started to hear stories of a coronavirus that had been reported in China, that had only begun its reach to other places. On our flights, we observed some travelers wearing masks, and additional measures by cabin crew to disinfect planes. But there was no panic, no significant worry just yet. 

The world was a different place three and a half months ago.

In the wake of COVID-19, we - as well as everyone else - have watched as countries across the globe started closing their borders, restricting travel and instituting lockdowns. People hoarded toilet paper and groceries while getting ready to hunker down in their homes. Public health officials and medical health officers started appearing on the news every day. And all the while, the numbers of sick and dying continued to grow.

After finishing recounting our tales from the 7th continent on March 8, I'd every intention of coming back to this blog to write a round up, one last post tying it all together: what we'd learned from our time in Antarctica, how being there changed us. But it's difficult to think about this wondrous place, and so many other incredible travel destinations around the world, that now seem impossible to visit and entirely out of reach.

...but as Lauryn Hill would say: "Don't forget what you've got, looking back, looking back, looking back"
While hubs and I had previously traveled to many other places, with nowhere else but Antarctica did I feel so much connection to the land, nature and wildlife.

There were often times on our journey where I was so much in awe of the things we were seeing, it felt like we were on a different planet. Or rather, that this incredible setting with these amazing creatures was actually the real world versus the one at home. I started to feel like the so-called "real world" was something that had been manufactured - a fake reality created by humans simply to keep us occupied on a day to day basis, filling our time with trivial and unnecessary tasks. This "real world" enabled humans to forget about those things that are actually important - the health and existence of the Earth, and regard for all animals, including the non-human animals with whom we share this planet.

Hubs had read about an experience similarly described by astronauts seeing Earth from outer space, called the "overview effect." This is well described by writer Ivan DeLuce in Business America:
When astronauts saw Earth from afar for the first time, they described a cognitive shift in awareness. This state of mental clarity, called the "overview effect," occurs when...you become totally overwhelmed and awed by the fragility and unity of life on our blue globe. It's the uncanny sense of understanding the "big picture," and of feeling connected to and yet bigger than the intricate processes bubbling on Earth.
In many ways today, it feels like we as a society have learned this lesson of connectedness and fragility the hard way.

"This is Major Tom to Ground Control - I'm stepping through the door and I'm floating in a most peculiar way"
Yesterday, Air Canada announced layoffs of 20,000 of its workers; at the end of March, WestJet was forced to let go of nearly half its staff (and job losses have continued). While many expect the federal government to bail out these Canadian airlines, with national and provincial debt soaring, and a return to "normal" for domestic and international travel still entirely uncertain, it is not hard to imagine the possibility of these airlines going under completely.

What is hard to imagine, is what travel will look like in the next few years. When will travel restrictions be lifted? Will the pre-COVID-19 volume of international flights resume? Will airlines be forced to fly fewer routes, take on less passengers, ensure social distancing? For how long? But also, will passengers be comfortable getting back on planes?

"Is it getting better? Or do you feel the same?"
You may recall I caught a nasty head cold towards the end of the trip. On the final leg of the journey, on a flight from Toronto to Vancouver, I was suffering from a buildup of sinus pressure and a terrible headache. To try and alleviate this, I was blowing my nose continuously and trying to cough. In response, I received more than a few death stares from those sitting in front of and next to me, like I was besieged with plague - how dare I have been allowed on the plane!

I maybe should have guessed that that was the beginning of the end of travel as we knew it. But how could we possibly know it would change so drastically as it has? When all governments at all levels start (largely) to agree with one another, it sure feels to me like the end has come. (Don't worry - that's only how I feel on the bad days since this global pandemic started.)

For now, I - like all of you - will continue to wait, listening to the advice of our medical health officers and trying to follow the directives as best I can.

And I will dream of Antarctica, my spiritual home and one I hope to return to some day when we are all allowed and feel safe to travel again.

Sunday, 8 March 2020

Final Leg: "On the Way Home"

And that - was Antarctica!

At the start of this trip, I wrote that I had been thinking about this trip in legs i.e.

  • Vancouver to Toronto to Santiago to Buenos Aires - first leg.
  • Buenos Aires to Ushuaia - second leg.
  • The boat - third leg.

Then everything in reverse, but lumped together because that's "on the way home" which is inherently less exciting.

This post is about that last leg - the inherently less exciting, everything in reverse, "on the way home" leg.

Last Days on the Ship
The days we spent northbound on the Drake Passage headed back to South America and in transit through Ushuaia and Buenos Aires, Argentina were all a little melancholy for me. Like, we just had an amazing experience on the 7th continent! And now it's over and we're heading home. Sad face.

However, there were some highlights from those last days at sea. We were able to enjoy a few more meals on the ship with some of the expedition crew members, hearing about what was next for them - whether they were staying on for the next voyage or wrapping up for the season. We sighted Cape Horn, the "southernmost headland of the Tierra del Fuego archipelago of southern Chile (Wikipedia)" and learned that an albatross-shaped monument was erected there to commemorate the lives of thousands of seafarers who died while attempting to sail around the cape.

Later that same day just off the coast, we saw even more whales (I will never tire of seeing BLOWS off in the distance - totally remarkable), and even a few dolphins that decided they wanted to race the ship, swimming and jumping alongside us. Está bien.

Sighting Cape Horn from the Ocean Endeavour © Matthew Boulton

The monument to the sailors who perished trying to
"round the Horn" © Matthew Boulton

Disembarkation and Tierra del Fuego
We pulled into the port of Ushuaia in the early hours on February 7 - disembarkation day. As one of our guides put in, coming over the loudspeaker: "The time has come. It is now time to get off the ship!" We finished packing up, said our final goodbyes and loaded onto buses with Rumbo Sur, the local travel agency and partner for Quark Expeditions. I hate to be dramatic, but it was all I could do to stop myself from crying as we pulled away from the dock!

One last stroll around the aft deck

Disembarkation morning in the port of Ushuaia

Luckily, I had a chance to reset - and resign myself to the fact that the voyage was over, sob! - before we headed to the airport, with a little tour through Tierra del Fuego National Park.

Entrance to Tierra del Fuego

It's nice, but it's no Antarctica

At Ushuaia's old airport

Old planes are cool

Hangin' around the old airport

Driving around Ushuaia

Just Another 25-hour+ Travel Day
The rest of the story about us getting home is a long and harrowing one - and one I, frankly, am not interested to write up in detail on the blog (sorry/not sorry). Let's just say, it involved a flight delay in Ushuaia, a taxi strike in Buenos Aires, another flight delay in Buenos Aires, resulting in a delay transitioning through Santiago and being rebooked onto a different flight in Toronto, a disturbed individual on that flight causing another delay... but then after more than 25 hours finally, and thankfully, HOME.

From the tarmac at the new airport in Ushuaia

Adiós, fin del mundo!

Sunday, 1 March 2020

February 4: The Final Day of Excursions and Saying Goodbye to Antarctica

Thanks for coming to
see me, even though you
weren't feeling well!
Written on March 1

It's Not Coronavirus, But Still
And then I got sick. Boourns!

I had been fighting a sore throat for a couple of days before taking the Polar Plunge; the sore throat escalated after I'd jumped into the cold waters of the Southern Ocean, and I woke up on February 4 with a terrible head cold. Given the coronavirus fears, I checked in with the ship's doctor who gave me throat lozenges, asked me to report in again if things got worse, and sent me on my way.

This was the last day of excursions on our voyage, but with me feeling so poorly, I just didn't have the energy to keep up the same pace as previous excursion days. Hubs, at this point, was also feeling a little "zodiac-ed out" so we had a bit of a modified/easier day of outings.

Morning Excursion: Cuverville Island
Cuverville Island is a small rocky island in the Errera Channel and home to the largest gentoo penguin colony in the region. Even though I wasn't feeling well, I was definitely not about to give up this last chance to see more penguins on our trip. After a chat with the Expedition Leader, we were able to skip the zodiac cruising portion of this excursion, and opt only for the shore landing.

As this was our final excursion, we did our best to just be in the moment after landing on the island - sitting down, listening to all of the penguin sounds, watching adult penguins be with their chicks, and seeing the penguins splashing around and porpoising in the shallow water along the beach.

Beach at Cuverville Island

Parenting, am I right?

Gentoo penguin and whale bones

Heading back to shore

Parent-teacher meeting?

Just hangin'

Practicing for National Geographic © Matthew Boulton

Afternoon Excursion: Paradise Harbour 
The original plan for the afternoon was to head onshore midway along the west coast of the Antarctic Peninsula at Paradise Harbour, to visit Argentine Base Brown. Formerly known as Almirante Brown, this place has a bit of an incendiary history. From our voyage journal provided by Quark Expeditions:
"Almirante Brown was the base conducting Argentina’s Antarctic marine biology and hydrography research. In 1984, the base doctor, who did not want to overwinter a second time, burned down the main base building. The concrete foundations still exist behind the remaining buildings. 
The base was reopened in the 1990s but plans to rebuild it were dropped during Argentina’s 2001 economic crisis. Currently, the former boatshed is used as summer accommodation for the scientific staff and the cleanup team. The current scientific program is continuing the hydrographic work of the 1990s, and studying the effects of these physical factors on biological systems in the harbour." 
(Aside: one of the historians on our ship, who also happens to be Argentinian, joked that if someone from Argentina says they're going to burn something down, you should take them seriously.)

Argentine Base Brown, taken from Ocean Endeavour
© Matthew Boulton
However, given the nice weather on this day, the staff at Base Brown decided to do some maintenance and re-painting of the buildings, which meant no shore landing for us. The plan was revised for everyone to instead take in an extended cruise around Paradise Harbour and nearby Skontorp Cove.

As beautiful as this spot was in the brilliant sunshine, and even though it was the very last excursion of our voyage, hubs and I opted to skip the zodiac cruise and enjoy the amazing views from the ship instead. While part of me is a little disappointed that we missed this outing, it was quite nice to have the ship nearly to ourselves. Plus, given my nasty cold, I think staying onboard was the more sensible choice versus being on the water in the zodiac for more than an hour.

Farewell Antarctica!
Everyone came back to the ship in the late afternoon, and our Expedition Leader led everyone in a farewell toast to Antarctica - a touching albeit bittersweet way to say goodbye to the 7th continent before heading northbound on the Drake Passage and back to South America the next day.

Final note on this day: we heard that a few members of the expedition team hosted an epic Antarctica-themed quiz night that evening, but we went to bed early.

Our Expedition Leader Laurie leading the farewell toast

Cheers to you, Antarctica!
© Matthew Boulton

Paradise Harbour: a stunning way to end our time in this amazing place

Saturday, 22 February 2020

February 3: Day of Epicness

Written on February 22

So much happened on this day! Humpies at Wilhemina Bay, our first (and only) continental landing, the Polar Plunge, an outdoor BBQ and a singalong at the end of the night. We'd had a lot of cloud cover and even a little rain/snow on the voyage up until this point, but the sun finally decided to make an appearance to give us a glorious "bluebird sky" backdrop for the entire day. Hence: day of epicness!

Morning Excursion: Wilhemina Bay
We started the day with a bit of zodiac cruising around Enterprise Island in Wilhelmina Bay... more like Whale-emina Bay! We saw multiple humpbacks on this outing, including a mom and calf just lazing about and "waving" to us with their enormous fins.

Just another day in a zodiac. © Melanie Adair

"Oh. Hey there."

Momma and baby

We also learned some history about whaling by seeing the wreck of the Guvernøren, an old whaling ship that caught fire in 1915 and sank, leaving only the first third of the ship visible above water today. With the sinking of the ship, the crew lost their entire cargo of whale oil - a highly profitable product at the time, as it was used as a major source of glycerine for making explosives during the First World War.

Learning about the Guvernøren and seeing the gentle humpies in the same outing was an interesting juxtaposition, given that the bay is now witnessing a return of these creatures after so many years of whaling, human interference and exploitation of the whales for profit. As hubs put it, "It's nice to see the whales coming back. If the environment can recover from all those whaling ships, then a bit of responsible tourist traffic shouldn't cause too much of a problem."




Afternoon Excursion: Portal Point
That afternoon saw us setting foot on the Antarctic continent! This "continental landing" (all the other landings so far had been islands) at Portal Point was the gateway for many explorers whose sights were set on reaching the South Pole - still quite a far distance from here. The Quark Expedition team had a continental flag at the ready, which we all took pictures with... because, why wouldn't we? It's the 7th continent!

Hiking up a short distance, we experienced incredible vistas from the top of the point. Gleaming mountains, clear water, rugged terrain and falling ice, all set against that glorious bluebird sky. A total highlight.



We made it!

Falling ice at Portal Point

Zero common sense. © Michelle Sole
The Polar Plunge and an Outdoor BBQ
Jumping into the near-freezing waters of the Southern Ocean is apparently a popular activity - which I did, but hubs did not (as he put it, "I'm impervious to regrets but not sub-zero temperatures."). My first reaction after hitting the water was, of course, "HOLY SHIT IT'S SO COLD" but was immediately followed by, "Mmm, salty!" 

I was in good company, with a total of 109 guests (out of 199) taking the big leap. The expedition team described us all as brave souls with no common sense. Agreed.

This was followed by a BBQ dinner on the aft deck. BBQ, beers, and sitting outside in Antarctica ("With wet hair!", as one of our friends observed), after taking a polar plunge... just another of many surreal experiences to add to the list of surreal experiences on this entire journey.

Outdoor BBQ in Antarctica. No big deal.

Sing-along and Nightcap 
After all of this, the "Chilli Goulash Rock Petrels" folk band, made up of three musically-inclined members of the expedition team, hosted a bit of a sing-along, performing some well-known - and lesser well-known - songs from around the world. The Canadian song they chose? “The Log Driver’s Waltz”. Good one, if you ask me.


Monday, 17 February 2020

February 2: It's Like Being on a Different Planet, but with Access to the Superbowl

From February 2, 2020 (Part 1 written on this date)

Part 1
Ahh, finally. A chance to sleep in. Except I didn’t at all, and woke up at 6:00 AM even though breakfast wasn’t ready until 8:00 AM. Gah.

While being terribly excited to experience everything we can, I also blame these early mornings partially on all of the programming available to us. With all of the presentations and lectures and landings and more, our days have been jam packed. I brought my runners and there’s a gym, but I haven’t spent any time in there at all because, well, there is no time! In some ways, I kind of wish “down time” would be built in - even a half hour or 60 minutes here and there would do - just so we have the opportunity to decompress and get ready for the next inevitable exciting and/or interesting and/or educational thing (I’m really not complaining; just a little tired).

And from this point on, I stopped writing on the ship (written on February 17)
I’m not entirely sure why, but I think I was feeling overwhelmed by all that we were doing every single day; I even skipped a presentation on “Why Antarctica Matters” on this day while the ship was navigating to our next destination. Shocking! (Thank goodness hubs went and was able to fill me in afterwards, ha.)

I had been attempting to do my write-ups in the mornings while the experiences from the previous day were still fresh in my mind, but by this point - as somewhat evidenced by what I wrote on February 2 - trying to document it all as it was happening almost started to feel like a chore. Of course in hindsight, I wish I’d forced myself to do it because now I’m left trying to piece it all together from our Daily Programs and the pictures I’d captured that day. Oh well.

Okay, so here we go: me trying to remember what happened!

What a palaver!
Early Afternoon Excursion: Palaver Point
Our first excursion for this day took place in the early afternoon at Palaver Point, west of Two Hummock Island of the Palmer Archipelago. About the site, from our Daily Program: “Home to a small Chinstrap penguin population, its name describes the kerfuffle and commotion of the colony.” And the name did not disappoint! There was a lot of squawking and blaring going on. Even though we’d already seen Chinstraps on our voyage, this was the first time seeing an actual Chinstrap colony. It was also the first time on the trip that we stepped foot on snow - which was surprising for many guests on the boat, who were expecting a lot more of the white stuff, being Antarctica, and all (but it’s summer!).

Decent view from the point

Looks like this Antarctic fur seal was making a palaver, too

Penguin tracks in the snow

It was from the zodiacs at Palaver Point where we also saw our first Minke whale! As part of the excursion, those who are seeking certain “adventure options” can pay extra and do such activities as kayaking, paddling, or stand-up paddle boarding. As we were getting into the zodiacs from the ship, there was a Minke whale playing with the stand-up paddle boarders who were getting set for their paddle around the point. He seemed like a friendly and curious little whale, hanging around to see what was going on and engaging with the paddlers.

First Minke sighting

Italian Market Dinner and a Note About the Dining Room
We enjoyed an early dinner, which was Italian-themed. The food and beverage, and kitchen and serving staff, were all incredible on our journey. Friendly and accommodating, after the very first day when hubs and I talked to Keith the Maître d' and Marlon his second-in-command about our dietary restrictions, we were greeted as “Ma’am Angie” and “Sir Matthew” (nicknames, I should say, we’ve missed hearing every day since we left the ship). The head chef is also a wizard with watermelon carvings and had intricately carved fruit waiting for all the guests as we walked into the dining room that evening.

Watermelon flowers

What's "hoot hoot" in Italian, I wonder...?

Evening Excursion: Graham Passage
The original plan for this evening was to be in Cierva Cove. I cannot remember why, but that plan had to change. And so, that evening after dinner, we loaded up the zodiacs again to cruise instead around Graham Passage which “lies north of Charlotte Bay between the Antarctic Continent and Bluff Island. Stunning, narrow and glaciated, this passage also provides great potential for sighting marine mammals.”

And how! It was here that I first felt like we were on an entirely different planet. The evening was a little gloomy. It had been misty and then started to rain, which turned into snow. At one point during the zodiac cruise, we were surrounded by huge, towering walls of ice. We watched seals and birds resting on icebergs. It was so quiet.

So many terms to describe the different kinds of ice...
think this is an ice wall

Antarctic cormorant a.k.a. shag

Giant ice! Ship in the distance for scale

And then, as if by magic, the snow stopped and a Minke whale appeared - and it wasn’t just any sighting. This guy was another curious whale, swimming in between and next to the zodiacs, and then underneath us! He even followed us back to the ship when it was time for us to go in for the night. It was an incredible encounter that left us wanting more. I’m not sure what we missed at Cierva Cove, but Graham Passage was an amazing alternative and a definite highlight for me.

Note: the next morning talking to Jimmy the whale guy, I asked him if there was any risk to the whales being so close to the propellers on the zodiacs. He had absolute confidence that the whales know what they are doing, and as long as we are being predictable i.e. driving straight and not making sudden movements, there is zero chance of them being hurt. In his words, “They are Olympians.”

It's a Minke over there!

Having fun with the humans

Swimming under our zodiac

Thanks for stopping by, Mr. Minke!

The Superbowl
Amazingly, the excitement for the day wasn’t over yet! The crew made last-minute, surprise arrangements to try and live stream the Superbowl game for the guests. Watching the Superbowl from a ship in Antarctica... so weird! But, pretty cool. It worked out well, although they had to use almost every bit of bandwidth available on the ship for the game. (Hubs and I only made it to halftime and then went to bed.)

Speaking of internet, we could have paid a (not inexpensive) fee to access WiFi for the time we were on the ship, but we opted not to. There were many reasons for this: as mentioned, it was costly. But the internet was also dependent on satellites and could therefore be either intermittent or non-existent. And how many times in our over-connected lives would we have a real chance to just disconnect from it all? We reasoned that, if there was an emergency, we wouldn’t be able to do anything about it anyway. So we took the opportunity and decided to truly be offline.

...except, obviously, when the ship streams the Superbowl live for everyone, ha. The crew threw a party, complete with bar food and snacks, and a Superbowl-themed sheet cake! There were even 49ers and Chiefs decorations too, which the ship’s receptionist apparently spent most of the day printing and cutting out. Of all the things we had experienced on the trip so far, this was one of the more surreal ones, for sure.