Your reports are highlight of my day Diane!!!! Amazing writing I really do feel as if I am with you. Thanks for taking the time to share your adventure with us. Joanna

Great report and pictures!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Loving your reports, Diane. I am sitting here laughing, mesmerized and eager for more.

Fantastic reports! You are an incredibly talented writer.I'm eagerly awaiting the next installment. :D

Diane, every time I see you have a report of the day, I brew a cup of coffee in your honor before reading. Today when I saw there were three installments, I even baked 2 cookies!

What a ride you are giving us! It is like being there all over again, and I hope when you get home, you will send us a link to all of your pictures.

Awesome Diane...glad you survived the passage.
Don't think I'll let Ray read this edition yet....Maybe later.keep having a great time with Marcia....don't forget to tell us her "name".

DECEMBER 13, 2010


The waves are angry today. Not like the Drake waves. Those waves weren’t angry. They were smug and confident, knowing they ruled the seas. These waves are petulant adolescents, wanting to assert themselves but unable to outshine the Drake waves. They are being petty and sulky.

Their whining, however, has been successful. There will be no landings this morning. Maybe this afternoon. That’s okay. Nothing could come close to the sun-struck beauty of yesterday afternoon’s zodiac ride.

In addition to the waves, there is some sort of propulsion problem with the boat, although we are still moving. I don’t know what the problem is. Nothing I could do even if I knew. So I am adapting Marcia’s denial method. I trust the problem will be fixed and we will continue on as before.

So, I sit in the lounge (not too close to the window, thank you), writing to you via Word. The internet is spotty. Even when it works, it takes forever to work, and balks at my attempts to send pictures/videos.

There is a lecture, but my head is full of waves, so I will pass.

Some have asked for more comments on the boat. What sticks out today is the staff’s excellence. The food is good, but not great. And I repeat my selfish gripe about no tv shows. (I have seen almost all the available movies, and am now rationing them, so I have some for the return Drake mess). Marcia wants more books in the small library, including non-expeditionary books. I would like more activities---trivia, bingo, something. These complaints are low-level ones, given only to paint a full picture of the boat. I love the boat, the people on it, and everything connected to it. I rate it an A-.

I would come back to the boat and to Antarctica again, and want to do so. I know it is a long trip. It’s been one week and we did not land until yesterday. After four more days, the landings, if weather permits, will be over. While the staff is helpful physically, and has really guaranteed our safety, it is still a hard journey. Most of us are worn out, and likely to return home that way. But ready for more.

CNBC is preparing a report on this trip, which should air in March. In the meantime, CNBC is supposedly sending pictures and film to be posted on the CNBC website, so check that out. I can’t, given my internet situation, which has been partly caused (we are told) by CNBC’s uploading of large amounts of media. You can also go to Abercrombie & Kent’s website, where there is a daily staff log of the trip, also with a few pictures. Let me know how they are.

One topic of conversation amongst the women has been the handsomeness of the boat’s male staff members. Tall, thin, young, clean, short-haired. With white pants, white shoes, blue crewnecks, and white polos peaking from the neck. French (as is the boat). Charming. If we are unable to land today, I will just observe them as I would any penguin species.

I learned of the Midwest snow/ice. I hope everyone is alright, and trust that no one is doing anything stupid (you know who you are). Moms and daughters worry, you know.

ADDENDUM—The captain has now informed us that we are nearing hurricane-force winds. Those adolescent waves are having a tantrum. I guess that means no landings today.

ADDENDUM TWO—The captain has announced that we will be making a turn into the sea, to try to get us out of this storm. He told us to hang onto something, because the sea will be rough. I am thinking of crawling under the bed and hanging onto the floor. Can’t say we’re not flexible.

ADDEMDM THREE—The turn helped, although the restaurant remains closed due to bumps. Just one big swaying, then another, then another....I don’t like this at all. On the other hand, I shouldn’t complain. The theatre showed an IMAX movie on Shakleton, complete with photos by that ship’s photographer. Those cute dogs had no idea of their fate.

Oh no, I hope your weather returns to the splendid sunniness of yesterday!

Abercrombie and Kent does have some nice photos on its website. I couldn't find anything on CNBC.

Wonderful reports. Really enjoying every word. :app:

OOH, French males species to observe--that is VERY interesting.

Great reporting Diane! I want to see pictures of both the cute penguins and the cute crew guys. :p

Nothing like cute sailors to make rough travel seem just a bit better!

WOW, Diane, your reports are fantastic!!!!!

WOW. Felt like I was with you. THanks and hope your trip proves to be spectacular

I hope the weather co-operates and settles down so you can do more landings. It is a spectacular place and it is unfortunate that you are having this weather. Maybe after this time it will settle down to give you some magical days.

Your writing is terrific you missed your calling what a special gift you have. Write a book one day.

Wishing you landings, gentoos, chinstraps and more adelies.

WOW!

Diane, I must join the amen corner on the subject of your prose. You are coming closer to describing the indescribable than any writer I have encountered. It is simply wonderful to read your posts. I found myself on the verge of seasickness this morning! Thanks so much taking me along on this journey. Pat

Pat, I totally agree about the seasickness.....Al walked into the kitchen last night while I was reading Diane's posts and asked why I had such a tight grip on the kitchen counter!

Looking forward to the next installment!

Diane - your writing and descriptions are superb! One gets the chance to refresh on the finer points of crawling when the waves are bad on that trip. I took to cracking the door open (on all fours - good trick, no?) and checked the hand rails for the sea sickness bags. That told me all I needed to know about the immediate future.

I have seen a few 'teaser' clips on CNBC with your ship featured in the midst of waves. It did occur to me to wonder how in the heck they shot those photos. Trust me .. you only want to see them when you are safely on land. Yikes! a rough ride indeed.

I trust you will have more landings. The pictures are great. I'm so glad you are getting to see the 7th continent.

Cheers, Anne

Oh Diane....I hope by now the weather has improved. Your posts really bring it back for me, but I don't have to crawl on the floor to enjoy them.

Stay safe, warm and calm, you're making memories for a lifetime!

Where, oh where is Diane today? I am so hoping like everyone that the weather improves and she will come back with tall tales of seeing more penguins, icebergs, whatever she wants to report!

Lauri and Anne, I couldn't find anything on cnbc's website either. Will try the AK site next.

Diane, if the weather would just improve, so would the food!

Diane, you and Marcie need to find that guy taking and posting pictures and tell him to post one of the two of you on the AK blog! TELL him it will go far and wide!

you are all so nice. it is very calm so do not worry. if the internet were better 'd tell more.

What's the address of the AK blog?

http://www.abercrombiekent.com/travel_logs/antarctica/classic-antarctica/12-7-2010/index.cfm

here ya go

DECEMBER 14, 2010


We are now south of the Georgian Islands, Sunrise was at 2:24 a.m. and sunset will be at 11:57 p.m. Longer light than the White Nights in Russia.

At our briefing last night, we learned that the storm we were in was a 10-11 on the Beaufort scale, with dips into 12. 12 is the highest the scale goes. So we can officially say we Antarcticans survived a raging, up and down storm. The wind rose to 60 miles per hour. The waves were 30 feet, and would have been higher except for the protection of the islands surrounding us. Had we been in the open sea all day, the waves would have been 45-50 feet tall.

Because of the storm, we had to pass on Deception Island and Half Moon Bay. I am only a little bummed, because I now understand the lengths this continent will go to assert its preeminence. None of the nine boats in the area were able to land yesterday, given the huge swells.

Today the green group is going first, for zodiac rides around Enterprise Island. Later this afternoon, the green group will go last, hopefully to land on a Paradise Bay island. And we will hopefully go ashore at the abandoned Argentinian Brown station, where we will officially stand on the Antarctic Continent.

I love life on the boat. Even though all one could do, given the heavy storms yesterday, was to go to sleep, get up, take a pill, and go to sleep again. All the Antarcticans look a little burnt, and all seem ready to do some affirmative exploring.

I will continue after returning from the first expedition.

Zodiac Ride Around Enterprise Island Area.

The beautiful blue sky has returned, allowing the icebergs to shine (I think my reference to glaciers was wrong, and I should be using the iceberg term). The winds are much calmer, although they still do the “see me” wafting. It is about 30 degrees (Fahrenheit) without considering the wind chill.

The ride was glorious. Surrounded by icebergs, and little ice boulders, at every turn. There were chinstrap penguins on island rocks (chinstrap, because of a line around the neck that looks like one). An old metal vessel that ran aground years ago. Turns (birds that will dive bomb your head to protect their nests). Colors everywhere, especially in the iceberg crevices.

After about an hour and a half, we returned to shore, and the red group began to board.

It’s 10:30 now, with a debriefing of the morning at about 12:15. Then we wait for the second outing, which I hope will include a landing. In the meantime, I have begun planning a second foray to this nowhere region.

Paradise Bay Landing.

We Antarcticans were ready for another landing, this time on Paradise Bay. As horrid as yesterday was, is as lovely as today has been. Just a little rocking, but nothing serious. Clouds dispersed to blue sky. Shimmers on the water and icebergs.

As the green group, we were second for this landing. No matter. There is enough empty beauty to spare, hopefully for centuries.

This was the most exciting of landings, because it was the official landing on the Antarctic continent. For many, this was the seventh of their seven continent run. The mood was joyful and exhilarated.

After the obligatory congratulations and pictures, we walked up a snow stair to a small group of gentoo penguins. Although it was almost 7 p.m., the sun was bright and the sky blue (as south as we are, the sun never really sets at this time of year—light all the time). Up a little further, another group of gentoos squabbled amongst themselves. We held no interest for them. Which is exactly the way it should be.

Several Antarcticans climbed a snow trail up to the top of what I viewed as a mountain. Marcia stayed on the ground, and I climbed some, but not all the way. Those tenacious Antarcticans who reached the summit enjoyed a ride-on-your-bottom ride down to the ground. It took much less time than climbing up.

The zodiac ride back to the ship detoured to see wildlife and glaciers. Then the zodiac pulled up to another zodiac, which carried three staff members and no Antarcticans. As a naturalist hitched the two zodiacs together, I thought that their zodiac had broken, and that we were to tow it to the boat. Wrong on all counts. We were handed glasses filled with champagne (or orange juice if one chose), and we all toasted having come to this extraordinary wilderness on this most beautiful of days. We cheered and drank, surrounded by glaciers, icebergs, seals and penguins. I will never ever forget the brightness of our Antarcticans’ smiles, coddled in the brightness of Antarctica itself.

And now here I sit, drinking mulled wine and writing to you. How can it be that we are here in this expanse of ice, virtually unpopulated by humans, and still have the internet, even if only 15 minutes a day?

You guys really should visit here. You won’t believe it, even as you look at it. It reminds me of the movie, whose name escapes me, about this fairytale village way up in the mountains. Shangri La. This is even better.

A Bizarre Muzak.

I was sitting in the observation lounge around 4 a.m. this morning, looking at the sights. There is always muzak on, except when the piano player or singing duo take over. The piped music has that elevator quality, so that it melds into the background.

Only myself and a nice man were in the lounge. For no reason, I began listening to the words, which were spoken more than sung. The words were these—spoken by a woman, telling us listeners what clothes she was taking off and how much she was attracted to her presumably male partner’s body. I looked at the man, he at me, and we said nothing. Later, after our zodiac ride, I was again sitting in the lounge with Marcia and some new friends. Again, I listened to the droning words of the muzak. This time the words were from a man, who was telling the presumably female listeners what he was going to do to them to assuage their sexual anxieties. No one paid any attention to the words until I pointed them out. Open mouths and big eyes all around. I guess Le Boreal really is a special ship, with special services indeed.

The Reveal

On my Buenos Aires entry, I wrote that Marcia is sexy, including for a reason to be disclosed later. Now that she is healed, here is the reveal.

Marcia arrived in Buenos Aires one day before me. She took a long tour with a guide from New Jersey. After all that walking, she somehow tripped, bonking her knee into a curb. Blood. Pain. Everyone was extremely attentive, and her guide took her to the German hospital (the joke has become “You SHALL heal NOW!”), where she received 5 stitches and a brace to keep her leg straight.

Now that the stitches, brace and bruises are gone (the boat doctor is a bit of a lech), I can tell you that Marcia is better than fine, has participated in all activities, can now bend her knee, and is my big hero. I am known as the sister of the one with the knee. As I am.

Diane, we need a picture of you and your sister together! I am glad you are back to blue skies and calm seas!!

Thanks so much Pam!

Diane, just LOVE your reporting. I got such a laugh about the muzak....very seductive! So happy that Marcia knee is ok and hasn't slowed her down a bit. Glad the weather is cooperating.

DECEMBER 15, 2010


A busy, busy day.

Preface—the 6th floor observation lounge is a hopping place in the evening. There are many pairings amongst the young people, fueled by the views and the open bar. Blonde is the preferred female species. Any male will apparently do.

Early this morning we zodiaced around Paradise Bay. The day was again unexpectedly sunny. We saw some gentoos and some chinstrap penguins. The big sights (literally big sights), however, were the elephant seals.

The elephant seals are huge and, except for their eyes, majorly ugly. Their noses inflate like rectangular balloons, and then deflate back to squishy squares. Elephant seals don’t move much, and when they do they flop about like giant inchworms. You can’t call a mature seal petite, since it weighs an average of 5 tons, but you can call it a big, scary lox.

We were fortunate to see a young elephant seal. His big eyes came out of the water, and stared, then submerged. He was smooth, without the scars of an adult. Once weened, the mom makes the pup fend for itself. Neither parent teaches the pups how to find food or shelter. Those 50 percent, which don’t learn these skills on their own, don’t live to maturity.

After returning from the zodiac, we Antarcticans attended a presentation about the Palmer Station, a small research set-up which we were to visit this afternoon. Abercrombie & Kent, the tour people, gave the station a machine which will allow researchers to do something with photographs to more efficiently take biological measurements. The station is under the auspices of the U.S., and brings together researchers from all over the country, and world. The station focuses on Antarctican science, how Antarctican changes affect the rest of the world, and specialized projects which are best performed in Antarctica because of its environment and closeness to the pole. For example, because Antarctica is basically 24 hours of daylight for several weeks, astrological experiments that call for constant monitoring can be done here.

I especially enjoyed it when several Palmer Station staff members were introduced and made brief remarks. They were uniformly young, bearing robust and unlined faces, full of life, and brimming with optimism. I simultaneously envied their present and worried for their future. That glass half full (or all the way full) mentality is hard enough to maintain, without having to go through those life’s inevitable Drake Passages.

Today was barbecue lunch day on the deck. As we were in the first group to visit Palmer Station, we rushed through lunch to get back into our expedition attire. Then we took the short zodiac ride to Palmer Station, which is a fascinating place. Lots of people were bored, but they did not have our guide, a hippie-type wanderer, who sleeps in a tent, outdoors, at the station by choice. He told us the scientific things occurring at the station, but more important to me, he told me about life at the station. The maximum capacity is 44 people, and there are 22 people now. The prior station was leveled by a fire, so there is extreme caution now. People work a six day, 9 hour/day shift. Everyone takes turns at periodic cooking and weekly cleaning. The living quarters are small but adequate. A doctor is on premises and the station has x-ray and sonogram machines. There is a gym, a big screen for movies, and, currently, salsa lessons. Most people circle in and out at about 3-4 months, in part I suppose because of the isolation. For Christmas, there will be a fancy meal, and a single white elephant gift exchange, with a prize for the most horrible gift.

A word about that. To emphasize, expedition attire generally consists of base sock layer, wool sock, another wool sock, long underwear, fleece pants, waterproof pants, several top layers, the parka, a life vest, gloves, scarf or gator, hat and Wellingtons. You basically pretend you are 5 years old and your mother has dressed you for snow. Except that you don’t have the option of going outside for 5 minutes and then coming back inside for your mom to unwrap you.

The first expedition day of dressing and undressing was exciting. We felt like lay-Shakeltons, Amundsen’s (sp?) or Scotts. The second expedition day was depressing, because we could not land due to the weather, so we all wished we could dress and undress. Dressing and undressing on the third day was fun, because we had not done so on the prior day. Today, the bloom is coming off the rose. Instead of bundled Antarcticans purposefully marching down the halls with conviction, we Antarcticans trudge slowly down the halls, pulling at our turtlenecks and yanking at our top-layer pants. Instead of laughing when the boot removal helper box (a box with a v shape from which you pull boots off with your legs) fails to do the trick, we groan and yank them off with our hands by sticking our legs in the air. We used to look at the lines of boots outside our cabins with pride; now we try not to look at them at all.

There are also the disinfectant pail and the guano-matic. The former is a plastic pail in which we step before and after landings, to avoid contaminating the landings and the boat. The latter is a manual method of washing guano off the boots upon our return to the boat. This pail has two long and wide brushes, one at each end, into which we rub our boots clean. There are also hand held brushes for particularly yucky guano yuck.

It is clouding over and the winds are picking up. The lecture, debriefing today and briefing tomorrow, will be held in a couple of hours.

I woke up burnt, and I am now toast. From their sunken eyes and slow gaits, my other Antarcticans appear to be faring the same (except for the young blonds, who have managed to find men to pull off their boots and carry them to their cabins—pure gallantry? I think not). But we Antarcticans, young and old, must forge on through this land of nowhere. And we will, fortified by coffee, diet coke, and liquor. Because we are the brave, the few, the Antarcticans.

Your reports are the best. I feel like I am back.

Diane...I finally had time to visit the A&K Blog - I think you have several of the same naturalists we had on our trip on the Minerva in January 2009!

I enjoy your posts and wish I was there - even with the rough seas!

Diane, The movie you remember Lost Horizon . Great movie. There is also a 1973 version, too.

we're reentering the Drake. No news is good news there

On pins and needles Diane!!!!

Diane, Hope this trip through the Drake is a smoooooooth one for all of you.

DECEMBER 16, 2010

Another busy day. The weather is cold, cloudy and windy.

We were to continue south last night through the beautiful Le Mer passage. However, the ice was too thick to pass through, so the captain and naturalists went to Plan B, then Plan C, and finally Plan D.

As Plan D, the green group of Antarcticans was out early this morning, on wild and splashy zodiac rides to Nico Island. The ice pellets ponked at our faces horizontally. Our driver, a weathered Australian with blonde semi-dreadlocks (it could be that he just lost his comb), drove the zodiac like Don Quixote. I felt like a cowardly Sancho Panza.

Nico Island was gentoo penguins on icy snow. No rookery, so we were not bound to stay any distance away from the gentoos. Immediately upon landing, we walked through the penguins, and they through us.

Some hardy souls climbed up an ice mountain, but we sane Antarcticans stayed close to the beach. Even so, and even though “safe” trails were demarcated, there were multiple instances (by me) of taking a step and dropping knee high in the snow-ice. Up to the surface, another few paces, and another drop. That was me, not the gentoos.

The gentoos, little sweet penguins, waddled up and down the mountain through their own trails, which look like personalized luge runs. Waddle, waddle, bop, waddle, run-waddle, hop……Many gathered on the beach, preening and squawking, Some waddled to the edge and went swimming.

Although it was freezing and slippery, this was the best landing for me, because this Antarctican became a part of the gentoo community. Wherever I stood, I ended up being in line for a gentoo waddle. I was stared at, ignored, qwacked at, and, once, stepped on. Those web feet really come in handy. For the gentoos, not me. My rubberized feet barely held the trail.

This afternoon the Antarcticans are landing on Cuverville Island, another nonrookery penguin village. Because we missed the warm springs of Deception Island, some young Antarcticans will be taking a dip in the water. Larry the naturalist correctly called these Antarcticans crazy, which likely spurred the indecisive ones to disrobe. There is also a mountain climb, which Larry called “rigorous.” My definition of that term is “impossibly stupid to attempt.” And the small pool and hot tub will be open this evening. I call those attendees “without a clue due to liquor.” By the end of the evening, we will see which Antarcticans are crazy, which are stupid, which are crazy and stupid, and which are crazy, stupid, and without a clue due to alcohol. The latter group should win a prize. And free lobotomies.

The movie this afternoon is March of the Penguins, which I had never seen because some penguins die (I know the whole circle of life bit, but I don’t necessarily want to see it). I made it 2/3 of the way through, saw one of those ugly seals eat an innocent momma penguin, and left the theatre in heartbreak.

Cuverville Island was, as expected, another wonderful stop. This time (for the first time) I wore my yaktrax, and I navigated the snow with confidence. Again, as we were not in a rookery, we could walk amongst the gentle gentoo with abandon—and again, it was the gentoo who had the right of way on all occasions. Those funny little penguins waddled up and down their self-made trails, passing each other and us Antarcticans with indifference. Those on the beach preened, turned their necks half-Exorcist style, hopped across the rocks and fell into the water. No preparation or Hail Mary’s for them. They stood at the end of the beach, facing the cold water, bobbled their necks, bowed their heads and fell in. Those in the water performed a graceful, luxurious synchronized swim -- going underwater, porpoising out, going back under, porpoising out….An Olympic gold, if I ever saw one.

By the time we left the island, it was colder and windier. The blue sky had transformed into thick, charcoal grey clouds. Just like a Goya painting, without the blood. The zodiac buffeted the waves as best it could, picking up speed along the way. Before we knew or really wanted it, we were back at the boat, stepping in the disinfectant, scrubbing our boots in the quano-matic, kicking them off our heels with the wooden boot thing, and smelling the dry air one more time before stripping off our layered padding. Our reward for such good behavior? More mulled wine.

Fran sent an msnbc article (thank you) about the polar bears and global warning. Propitiously, one of our lectures last night was on the Antarctic ozone hole’s impact on both poles. For reasons I do not understand, the ozone hole actually protects Antarctica from global warming, in part by intensifying the winds at its circumference. So, if the ozone hole is fixed, as some want to do, by 2070 the Antarctic will be subject to warming. On the other hand, due to the type of winds and snow/ice at the other pole (the one with polar bears), the ozone hole in Antarctica causes warming in the other pole which jeopardizes many of the bears.

The quandary is this—if the ozone hole is fixed, the polar bear pole will benefit but Antarctica will be hurt. If the hole remains, the polar bear pole will be hurt but Antarctica will benefit. The Antarcticans were to discuss this issue during the post-lecture dinner. I confess that my table forgot to do so. We did, however, discuss South Park, Mad Men, doodle dogs of all sizes, and Joan Rivers. Culture, after all, is in the eye of, and defined by the mind of, the beholder.

Before I end this, I want to wish all at FOS a happy Christmas party. As you celebrate, we will be entering the Drake Passage for our return roller coaster ride. So please toast to us Antarcticans. And Karen F.—please pet Bob, and then have some champagne for me. You can never tell what magic will come from that elixir.

DECEMBER 17, 2010

The landings are over. The penguins and seals have their guest rooms back. Their goodbye waves were half-hearted. “Come back and see us. Don’t come back. It means nothing to us. We have things to do. And what’s up with those red feathers you humans put on to visit? ”

So, it is the Drake for us. Again. The sickness bags are back on the railings. We are rocking and rolling, with only the music of the winds.

On the way to the penguins, we Antarcticans were excited, even giddy. Days of bad seas were discounted, because we were beginning our great adventure. But now, after the enchantment of the penguins and the gross-out of the seals, there is no more excitement. Only resignation. Reality is pushing itself upon us, despite our pleas for it to stay away.

We imagine that we are back on the continent, as you should do when you read this entry. The sun. The clouds. The cold. The wind. The crags of sea ice. The monumental ice bergs. And the animals. Poking out of snow mountains. Prone on icebergs. Preening at the beach. Waddling amongst the red parkas.

It’s been terrific. Just terrific. And like the polar bears at the other end of the world, I will come back here again. With patches and pills. And maybe spouting black and white feathers. After all, I am an Antarctican.

Thanks for reading my journal. See/write/talk to you in a few days.

Another incredibly well written & entertaining report!!!!! One of my favorites.... "We did, however, discuss South Park, Mad Men, doodle dogs of all sizes, and Joan Rivers. Culture, after all, is in the eye of, and defined by the mind of, the beholder."

Loving every word Diane - Joanna

Thank you so much for this amazing travelog!