Last updated: 12 February, 1998
From Roy's journal:
"A brilliantly sunny day has illuminated the icebergs of Andvord Bay. Glowing in the frigid waters of Antarctica with indescribably blue and turquoise translucence, they drive us a bit mad. We are almost frenzied in our photography, knowing all the while that no combination of
aperture and exposure will ever capture this intensity, this depth of internal illumination, the clarity of this water.
We end up simply looking, trying to burn the images into the synapses of our brains.
The Crabeater Seals seem equally as dumbstruck, lolling languidly in the sun as if their iceberg perches were white sand beaches on a Caribbean island. They can barely lift their heads to see who intrudes into their crystalline domain, the growl of our zodiac's outboard motor no more disturbing to them than the crack and splash of calving icebergs from the tidewater glaciers that surround us.
We land at the stony beach of Neko Harbor, home to a scattering of Gentoo Penguins. Most are chicks, sprawled haphazardly on the granite boulders, belly down, flippers and legs askew, mouths open, eyes shut. In the clear water below we see adults darting through the water, our view distorted only slightly by the waves. They zip through the water in an incredible display of agility. Their adeptness in the water underlines their ineptitude on land, where they labor diligently to climb up to their chicks. There is a story here. Clearly optimized for foraging in the water, these delightful little penguins come ashore only to procreate and raise their young. The chicks are mostly covered in gray down, fuzzy precursors to their sleek parents. A few, however, apparently older than most, are at work plucking off the down. It clings in patches, making an
occasional youngster resemble a punk rocker. One individual seems to be watching the water with a slightly crazed look.
Probably can't wait to become and adult. Do penguin adolescents experience raging hormones?
Perhaps the sun has made us all a bit crazy, people, seals, penguins. After all, who would expect a balmy day in February on the Antarctic Peninsula, where only the azure ice surrounding us keeps our temperatures from becoming feverish? What a glorious day!"
- Roy Beckemeyer, 1 February, 1998
A second aft-deck barbecue (the first was at Grytviken) occurs on our sunny day at Neko Harbor amidst icebergs, glaciers, and thousands of bergy bits. A large chunk of ice calves and generates a six foot swell that runs up the beach where only minutes before passengers had been climbing into the last zodiac to leave the shore. One of the boats rides the miniature tidal wave, the ten passengers cheering as they slide downhill on the water.
This lunch is even more incongruous than the one at South Georgia, the Latin music echoing from the icebergs. Leticia, our Argentine barmaid (an employee of Marine Expeditions) decides to dance and Victor Emanuel joins her, throwing in moves he picked up from watching the mating dances of wild cranes. Afterwards a few brave souls do the
Macarena. The craziness continues as we steam out of Neko Harbor.