33 days away from the world
ANTARCTICA 2020
Parler
Parler
ANTARCTICA 2020
January 2020
Ushuaia, Tierra Del Fuego
There are only a few cities on Earth that immediately evoke a sense of adventure, remoteness, and wilderness, and Ushuaia is certainly one of them. In my experience, Ushuaia has been a place for brief respites, hurried pit stops sandwiched between two cruises—too brief to explore beyond avenue St Martin. I know all the good internet cafés, the best supermarkets to avoid crowds, and not much more. However, this year, I made the decision to truly delve into the "authentic" Ushuaia. I rented an Airbnb for eight days before embarking on one of the most extraordinary polar cruises available: a semi-circumnavigation of Antarctica from Ushuaia to New Zealand, venturing through the remarkable Ross Sea.
In January, Ushuaia hits its peak tourist season. It's the height of summer, but don't expect beach weather; after all, it is the "fin del mundo" (end of the world). Over eight days of exploring the town and its surroundings, I experienced every type of weather imaginable—from hail, rain, and snow to moments of calm and sunshine. However, finding times without the notorious wind of Patagonia proved to be a challenge.
The town, whose name translates to "at the back of the bay/cove," stretches SW-NE between the Beagle Canal and the Martial mountain range to the North. It doesn't take long to find yourself immersed in the Nothofagus tree forest or atop a windswept mountain. After eight days of hiking, working on my lectures, and reconnecting with some wonderful friends fortunate enough to call Ushuaia home, the call of Antarctica became irresistible.
The long traverse commenced. Bellingshausen Sea, Amundsen Sea... many days at sea awaited us before reaching our primary destination, the incredible Ross Sea. Sea days were far from dull. There was always plenty to do on the ship, from lectures and equipment preparation to training, keeping us occupied. Surprisingly, the excellent weather stuck with us, and I didn't experience seasickness even once on this cruise—a remarkable first for me! I made an effort to spend most of my time on the outer decks, observing enormous tabular icebergs passing by and witnessing the ever-changing sky. It was an incredible feeling to know that we were the only ones there. While numerous ships explored every inch of the Peninsula, we stood as the sole witnesses to this breathtaking natural spectacle.
Approaching the Ross Sea presented its challenges. A dense band of sea ice obstructed our path to the Ross Sea, and we found ourselves entangled in it. We hoped to find a small opening free of ice to avoid a substantial detour that would have added another 4-5 days of sailing—a prospect none of us relished after spending 9 days on a ship without disembarking. We were all eagerly anticipating catching that lead!
Despite our best efforts, we became firmly stuck in the sea ice. The situation prompted our captain to deploy the large drone (heli) to gain an overview and map out the location of the lead. Although we had satellite images, the weak internet connection only provided images a few days old. I was fortunate to be part of that flight and gained insights into "mapping sea ice for a ship" while flying at high speeds. The strategy worked, and a few hours later, our troubles were far behind us.
ROSS SEA
Until last year, I honestly had no idea that some cruise ships would take passengers all the way to the Ross Sea. But there I finally was. The day we arrived at the Ross Sea was quite extraordinary. With the sea ice behind us, we found ourselves surrounded by enormous tabular icebergs under a dark, menacing sky. The entire atmosphere was eerie. This place was an entirely different ball game.
The Ross Sea was the primary goal of our cruise, the place where we aimed to spend most of our time exploring. We had so many incredible locations to visit—places I had been dreaming of for a long time, locations I had read about in books, and had been captivated by in geography books. From that point on, it felt like being the character of one of my wildest dreams.
The first place we stopped at completely blew my mind. We aimed for one of the most famous locations in the area, forever associated with the exploration of the South Pole: the Bay of Whales. First named by Shackleton during his Nimrod expedition, it was primarily used by Amundsen to access the Ross Ice Shelf and establish his base to prepare for the South Pole. The Bay of Whales is a natural opening in the shelf, a perfect harbor.
I woke up just past midnight, encountered a couple of our most passionate passengers already on the outer decks. The light was incredible. The Bay of Whales was indeed full of whales that night. On the horizon, we could see a thin golden line that grew bigger and bigger. At about 2 AM, our expedition leader gently woke our passengers up to announce that we would arrive soon. In front of us, a giant white wall stood in our way: the Ross Ice Shelf. The moment was magical. We reached 78°S, the southernmost point I had ever reached, which is, amusingly enough, the same latitude as Longyearbyen, except in the southern hemisphere.
For me, this was already the highlight of the trip, the highlight of the year, probably one of the highlights of my entire life! Knowing that climate change is deeply affecting these fragile ice shelves, no matter how big they are, made it all very bittersweet. The Ross Ice Shelf seems okay for now; let's hope it stays in place for many centuries to come.
After a quick nap, we spent the rest of the day sailing along the shelf, dreaming of Amundsen, his men, and his dogs leaving Framheim for the unknown. Speaking of explorers, we aimed for another unbelievable adventure the next day. After hoping to do a sightseeing flight over the shelf or even a drop-off but had to cancel because of the Antarctic winds, we decided to pay a visit to Scott's hut at Cape Evans!