Danko Island and Gerlache Strait: Our Last Landing on the Antarctic Peninsula
No Rest in the Wild
Our morning began at Danko Island, where we were greeted by light, fluffy snow and a gentle breeze. From the ship, we could see the Gentoo penguin colony perched atop a snow-covered mountain covered in a labyrinth of penguin highways.
Andy originally planned to skip this landing and stay on the ship, but my journal notes that I told him, “We’re not coming back, so put your gear on, you’re going!” We boarded the zodiacs, and spotted a Weddell seal on the way to the landing site.
It was snowing sideways. Giant, fluffy, wet snow with a little bit of wind to keep things interesting. My lens hood worked wonders as long as I wasn’t facing straight into the wind.
The hike was challenging, as I frequently sank thigh-deep into the snow, making it difficult to extricate myself. Once I managed to get out, I filled the holes to prevent any penguins from accidentally falling in.
The penguins themselves were making their way up and down their well-worn “highways,” and we had to give them the right of way as they waddled between the sea and their rocky nests.
The birds were pretty dirty from trekking through their slushy colonies.
We hiked further along and eventually reached a spot where it was just the two of us observing the penguins waddle and toboggan along. We were both exhausted from the endless activity of the past week but we practically had to be chased off that mountain back to the ship. It was the perfect atmosphere for our final landing on the Antarctic Peninsula.
Back on the ship, we began heading north through the Gerlache Strait, but we didn’t get far before the ship slowed and Greg announced there were humpback whales feeding in front of the ship. I was already in my pyjamas hoping for a quick nap, but humpbacks bubble net feeding just off the ship’s bow was too magical to miss. Even from 500 yards away, watching these magnificent creatures work together to catch krill was something we hadn’t seen before, and it was absolutely mesmerising. They basically create spiralling curtains of bubbles to corral and then surge upward through schools of fish, trapping and gulping them en masse. We learned to watch the birds diving for fish as a clue to where the whales would surface.
Eventually, two hours later to be precise, we left the whales behind and continued our journey north. We passed some enormous tabular icebergs, and this sailboat. This is the first ship we’d seen – and I didn’t even want to think about it crossing the Drake.
The ship then slowed to a hault. It was time for the Polar Plunge. I had always imagined this would be done in a quiet cove, not in the middle of a vast waterway with deep, inky blue water. Either way, we hadn’t planned to participate, so we stayed bundled up and watched from the deck.
As the day wound down, an unmistakable penguin smell filled our cabin—likely coming from my gloves, which had gotten soaked from falling in the snow and were now drying on the bathroom floor heater. I also found myself putting my seasickness bands back on as the ship began to sway again as we headed north.
