January 12, 2024August 25, 2024

Foggy Morning and Territorial Seals in Stromness

This post is part of our second once-in-a-lifetime expedition to the Falklands, South Georgia, and Antarctica. Click to expand this section and view the table of contents if you don’t want to read this sequentially, or you are looking for a specific part of the trip.

What’s Plan B?

The plan for today was an ambitious one: a 6km hike from Fortuna Bay to Stromness, following the final leg of Shackleton’s famous last walk. The trek would take hikers up 300 meters in elevation and down to the abandoned whaling station at Stromness, with the ship meeting them there about four hours later. Andy was keen but I was going to skip it due to this pesky cold.

When when we woke up, the weather had other ideas—dense fog blanketed the area, making the hike impossible. Plan B kicked in, and the ship moved to Stromness for a shorter hike. There was a lot of confusion over the new plan, but eventually, a 4km hike was organised. Andy joined the hike, which was the final portion of the journey by Shackleton, Worsley and Crean.

A vibrant stream of yellow-green moss cuts through a rocky, barren landscape with misty mountains in the background.

A small group of hikers stands near a waterfall cascading down a rocky, grassy hillside beneath misty mountain peaks.

A picturesque waterfall cascades down a rocky, moss-covered slope surrounded by rugged terrain.

I initially planned to stay near the landing area to photograph seals and penguins. The seals were more aggressive than expected, and being alone didn’t feel particularly safe, so I reluctantly joined the organised walk.

Seals rest on a rocky beach near rusted, abandoned buildings with mist-covered mountains in the background.

King penguins gather near a stream, with abandoned, rusted buildings and green mossy terrain in the background.

The walk started off slow, mostly because the group was made up of photographers who stopped frequently for pictures. Eventually, we left them behind, and I found myself with just a guide and one other passenger. I was thankful to be with a guide who had hiking poles as the seals were in a charging mood.

Seals lounge on grassy terrain with penguins in the background, set against rocky hills.

A person in a red jacket walks through a foggy, grassy field toward a distant ship anchored near the shoreline.

Close-up of a curious fur seal standing upright, staring directly at the camera with a grassy background.

A fur seal lying in tall grass with its mouth wide open as if yawning or barking.

The highlight of the walk was finding three tiny seal pups by a stream.

A close-up of a wet fur seal pup peeking over the grass with wide, glossy eyes.

A fur seal pup with wet fur gazes upward while resting near green moss.

Most of the elephant seals were asleep, yet they filled the air with an assortment of sounds—grunts, snorts, and the occasional deep rumble.

A group of large seals rest on grassy terrain, with one seal peeking over the others amidst patches of tall green grass.

The penguins were moulting so we gave them extra space.

A densely packed group of king penguins huddled together, displaying their black, white, and yellow plumage.

The afternoon was yet another example of how fluid things are on an expedition. Plan A was to return to Fortuna Bay, but another ship had visited in the morning and reported a significant number of dead elephant seals, so the site was closed. Plan B involved zodiac cruising in Salisbury Plain, but the weather proved too rough. We ended up with Plan C—a potential zodiac cruise at St. Andrews Bay. Unfortunately, by the time we arrived, the weather was described as “inclement,” and heavy rain was falling. Most passengers, including us, chose to skip the outing and stay aboard, grateful for the warmth and shelter of the ship.

Next up — The Silence at Larsen Fjord and Some Seriously Cool Icebergs