Reflection on Antarctica

(Last update for the Season)

We are home now.  After 39 hours of travel including stop over time
and grateful at a quiet cottage to sleep before driving the last hour to 
get home. We are home now.

Lyle writes voraciously all his thoughts and ideas.  He reflects
deeply on the changes he experiences as a person.  This trip to 
Antarctica has made impacts I was,and was not expecting. I worked hard 
for more than one year on increasing my paddling skills and endurance so 
that I would not disappoint the amazing paddlers we’ve had the pleasure 
to join.  I was still the weakest paddler.  But I had fun and learned.  
There were times of frustration and discomfort.  |I expected that, 
especially the discomfort. Through those experiences I thought of 
Shackleton keeping up the spirits of his men throughout the 18 months of 
the “Endurance” of their journey on the “Nimrod”.  There were also 
moments of paddling triumph, when suddenly I found my stride and moved 
along with the grace and ease I’ve always previously found in my 
athletic pursuits.

We used the resources of modern society to get to the most pristine 
place on earth.  As we approached the convergence, where the waters of 
the Southern Ocean cease to mix with the waters of the human inhabited 
north, I became awe-struck.  Here is the start.  The water is the most 
magical shade of blue and the ambient temperatures drop.  We covered our 
exposed skin.  We were in gloves, hats and scarves.  The Drake did not 
disappoint. It was mild we were told, but the winds were sufficient to 
move the Spirit of Sydney along with the style and grace for which she 
was built.  Sailing we were, over seas bigger than I’ve ever seen. The 
yacht moved in ways my stomach did not appreciate.  I doubled up on 
sea-sickness medication and spent my time between the refreshing 
outdoors of the cockpit and my bunk. It did not take away my enjoyment 
of the Passage.

As we neared Deception Island the Cape Petrels, then the Storm Petrels 
heralded our approach.  We passed through Neptune’s Bellows to the 
caldera of the quiet volcano.  The literature we read told us not to go 
between a fur seal and the beach.  A task I found impossible, fur seals 
littered their beaches without paying much mind to respectful tourists.

Day by day we traveled by kayak and sailboat deeper south.  The scenery 
and animals becoming more beautiful, more surreal, more indescribable.  
We had opportunities to walk among penguins and seals of many species, 
even camped beside them.  We saw the remnants of human endevours of 
science and colonization attempts from years gone by. We had the 
on-going science of this polar region explained to us in the halting 
English of the Ukranian scientists stationed at Vernadsky Station.

After a half magical, half arduous paddle circumnavigating Nanson Island 
Lyle and I discussed the objective of our travel.  We agreed we were not 
in Antarctica to adorn our caps with feathers. We were not interested in 
paddling faster, further, better into winds.  Yes, we were interested in 
continuing to improve our paddling skills and comfort in dynamic 
waters.  Antarctica is an environment so vastly different and unique we 
wanted to absorb all of the incredible and awe-striking beauty in person.

By the time we left the Port Lockroy historical research station, we 
were immersed into sponge mode.  Our senses were on high alert to all 
around us.  We paddled energetically but were still open to slowing down 
to the experiences meeting us with all the changing nautical miles 
notched off on the various GPS device distributed throughout the group.

Booth Island, the Iceberg Graveyard and the Lemaire Channel with Una’s 
Peaks at the head,  and whales(!) all steeping in our minds.  I will 
always picture icebergs flowing north through the Lemaire and the 
immense expanse of Brash Ice that filled the channel from vertical shore 
to shore.  We dug in our paddles and followed one after the other trying 
to follow closely behind the leader but with enough space should the 
leader have difficulty finding water beneath them.

As we were in kayaks, we paddled further south than our sailboat could 
navigate through ice. Our southern point was 65’20” and the Berthelot 
Islands.  We then sailed north, our sailboat dropping us off at the 
Outcast Islands.  The sailboat continued on to the shadow of the 
retreating glacier near Palmer Research Station (US).  We were greeted 
by a very curious fur seal who gave us our closest encounter with 
wildlife when it checked each of us and checked the integrity of 
Justine’s kayak.  Here I started the regimen of two types of seasick 
medication in preparation for our second crossing of “The Drake”.  I 
managed to enjoy the four days journey to Cape Horn.  We were pleasantly 
surprised to have two more days kayaking around the forested islands of 
Tierra del Fuego before checking in at the customs office of Puerto 
Williams, Chile.  A quick hike up the local scenic forest was enough to 
re-aquaint my legs to their normal tasks of walking and give me sore 
shins for three days.  I still felt the movement of the sea beneath me 
for a further four days and will work on getting my legs strong for my 
return to hiking and running.

I would recommend experiencing Antarctica from the seat of a kayak to 
anyone who would care to ask.  To have had my toes frozen by Antarctic 
seas and the chilled winds reddening my face is to experience 
Antarctica.  The sounds of airplanes and spring songbirds has replaced 
the alto trill of Gentoo Penguins in my ears.  I have realized my 
failures by bringing synthetic fabrics and wearing toenail polish and 
unnecessarily contributing to the spoiling of such a pristine place.  
These things I would recommend to avoid if only to help ease your 
conscience.  If such a place can instill such awe and respect and raise 
awareness on such a level, this is what I have taken from here,…and 
pictures.

Vivian