A photo essay from 5-weeks working in Antarctica

 

Jade green icebergs, the sweet smell of shit from 1.5 million Adelie penguins, seal breath, the haunting boom of cracking glaciers, icy zodiac rides and the smell of trees; a long form photo essay.

 

The plane punches through the bottom deck of the clouds, suddenly rock pillars rise like stoic teeth from a thrashing ocean below. Snow blows sideways, colours are gone, the world is a monotone natural colour set of water, ice and rock. We’re only two hundred meters above the water approaching a sheer bluff aimed at a barely visible short gravel runway maintained by the Chilean airforce. This is Frei Station, on King George Island —the gateway for flight accessed research and tourism in the Antarctic Peninsula.

I’m sitting in a leather seat, on a 70 seater BAE 146-200 turbo fan short runway specialized jet, in business class, surrounded by 70 excited passengers. The heroic age of suffering is over, we’re here to spend time together in comfort aboard the Ocean Nova our trusty 79m ice-strengthened ship. However, first we need to clear the runway, walk down to Maxwell Bay through the middle of a Russian and Chilean station and load everyone into inflatable zodiacs for a wet ride out to the ship.

I’m here as a “Media Coordinator,” for Antarctica 21, a tour operator and Antarctic fly-cruise specialist. I’ve been tasked with creating a photo slideshow of each trip for passengers to take home, as well as run onboard media and drive zodiacs through the icy waters. The contract is for 5-weeks and we’ll be host to five groups exploring both the Weddel Sea and the western side of the Antarctic Peninsula. The whole shebang will include an adventure south of the Polar Circle, an iceberg larger than Manhattan and a crossing of the infamous Drake Passage.

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The following is a long form photo essay from my time onboard. Feel free to reach out about prints, all proceeds go towards buying a sailboat and taking off around the world.

The trip is separated into six categories:

Chapter 1. Iphone/Bad Selfies

Chapter 2. Ice

Chapter 3. Wildlife

Chapter 4. Landscapes

Chapter 5. People

Chapter 6. Human Sites

Note: The format of this blog will look better on a computer than on a mobile device.

 
 

 

Chapter 1:

iPhone/Bad Selfies

These are obviously the most ridiculous, and candid, photos when a quick phone shot is all you want to help archive a memory. But as this is a really long post, I figured you could have a laugh at my expense before the real photos and stories begin…

Note: If you possess superhuman selfie tips hit me up.

 

 

Chapter 2:

Ice

I’d never been anywhere polar before, dangling in the local ice fields crevasse was the closest I’d ever come to real ice. This meant I was wholly unprepared for the scale of Antarctica. Giant ice floes, tabular ice bergs tens of kilometres long, the booming of glaciers cracking like some unearthly giant pounding a bone chilling drum. All of it felt fairly surreal and I’m only now beginning to process it.

In the photos below you’ll notice many colours of ice. The true colour of ice is blue, but trapped air bubbles often give it a myriad of tones between blue and white (the molecules in ice absorb light in the red end of the visible spectrum making it appear violet or blue). So, when you see a really clear piece of ice, that means it’s likely very old and dense as the pressure of uncountable tonnes of ice has slowly squished it and compressed the air bubbles entirely or squeezed them out. That’s why when it melts they sound like popping rice crispies as the air bubbles are released. Clear ice may be thousands of years old and really heavy.

There’s one photo of a green ice berg, these are super rare. There are conflicting theories on how they’re formed. Most agree that as the ocean freezes from the bottom of the seafloor up towards the ice floe above it, it incorporates seafloor nutrients that help to give it its jade hue. Additionally, some scientists are now speculating their high iron content gives them their colour, which then also means that when they float out to sea they act as giant fertilizers for an iron starved ocean and contribute to the southern oceans abundance.

As for some of the odd shapes, dimples in the surface of the ice are formed as trapped air bubbles are released below the waterline. The bubbles then rush up to the surface along the outside of the iceberg. If an iceberg has flipped enough times, being exposed both to solar radiation and bubble sculpting it can turn into quite the sculpture.

Note: click on photos to enlarge and hover over to see captions.

 
 

A57A an iceberg larger than Manhattan that has floated out to sea from the Weddel Sea side of the Peninsula.

Ice photographing aficionados get their fix near Portal Point.

In an iceberg graveyard, a place where bergs are grounded, strange shapes are made by tide and sun.

A late evening cruise through an iceberg graveyard.

Icicles form after a day of intense sunshine in an iceberg graveyard just north of the Lemaire Channel.

A massive ice arch is formed in a floating iceberg —large enough to drive a boat through.

This crack is probably close to 30m long running down the side of a tabular iceberg.

Wild sculptures.

Another iceberg graveyard, all of these are now grounded.

You could can stand in one of those arches.

A closeup of the clearest, emerald hued piece of ice I saw on the trip that wasn’t an actual Jade Berg.

A wave splashes in and out of a large pool formed in the base of four towers protruding up from a large iceberg.

Soft colours and shapes as snow howls through the air in Cierva Cove.

A couple kilometres off shore, monsters lurk.

An example of bubble dimpling. Note the channels running upwards.

A57A extending way out of site. Imagine Manhattan, floating.

The Weddel Sea on a surreal calm day with tabular ice bergs 100+ meters high and kilometres floating all around.

A mix of snow, ice, and jade berg present in a fresh piece of ice that had likely just rolled.

A huge jade berg emerges from A57A having likely split off that morning.

Very old and dense ice. These pieces often frequented the bar as ice cubes that took forever to melt in a drink…

Here you can see the original tabular orientation on the right, and below waterline sculpting on the left, both of which have now leaned to the right.

For scale: this ship is around 10-stories high parked beside a tabular ice berg over 11km long.


 

Chapter 3:

Wildlife

Phytoplankton and krill power an ecosystem that supports huge numbers of seasonal wildlife in Antarctica. The antics of penguins, the speed of a skua diving out of the sky towards a penguin colony, the elegance of a Wilson’s storm petrel dancing on water using it’s feet to bring food to the surface, the calm breaths of sleeping humpback whales floating on the surface, the coordination of a pod of killer whales moving through pack ice, the smell of an elephant seals breath or the bark of an aggressive fur seal all add a little bit of life to an environment that doesn’t feel as if it should support any life at all.

Note: click on photos to enlarge and hover over to see captions.

 
 

A huge leopard seal yawns away. Their teeth have developed into special shapes that help them filter out water when eating krill.

A royal albatross follows the Ocean Nova across the Drake Passage.

For scale: the fur seal on the right is heavier than a human and about the same size as a sea lion. The elephant seal really comes into its name…

A very rare, blonde fur seal.

At Bailey Head on Deception Island chin strap penguins and fur seals play chicken with the surge waves. Notice the glacier in the background reflecting light back up onto the cloud base.

Moulted penguin feathers flying like snow.

Moulting chinstrap penguins.

Young aggressive fur seals often assert their territory by bluff charging and barking at visitors.

Moulted penguin down. Penguins go through something called a ‘catastrophic moult’ which means they lose all of their feathers in one go, spending up to 2-3 weeks on shore without eating while shedding the bothersome and dirty old feathers from nesting season in favour of new feathers that will help them survive at sea for the next half of the year.

Chinstrap penguins back peddle out of the surge —some are not yet fully moulted meaning they can’t yet go back to sea.

One of four ecotypes of Killer Whale in Antarctica, this group of three Type-A’s from a larger pod swim past the ship.

A young fur seal moment before showing me all his teeth and trying to run me off the beach. In moments like these, the guides become the go between helping shuttle guests safely around grumpy wildlife, while also trying to shelter grumpy wildlife from eager guests.

Did you know that a seals resting position is to have its nostrils closed? It makes sense as it lives under water most of its life, only needing to open a nostril when it needs to breathe. This crabeater seal takes a nap.

Two humpback whales swim past the Ocean Nova.

A humpback dives deep in Orne Harbour.

Two humpbacks meaner past a zodiac full of guests.

A chinstrap penguin stands tall apparently unperturbed by the blizzard howling around it.

Zoom in and you’ll see the large pocket of food (krill, squid, fish), being regurgitated to the young gentoo penguin by its parent.

This is an often seen scenario: a snowy sheathbill (who survives by eating seal and penguin poo —sometimes diversifying and cheekily getting a baby penguin to drop its food) getting chased by an adult penguin, who in turn is getting chased rather comically and obnoxiously (sometimes for great distances) by it’s very hungry and eager young.

A large group of humpbacks plays in wild wind ripped seas.

The f-16 fighter jet of Antarctica, a skua cruises on the blustery wind.

A humpback whale takes a leap.

This gentoo penguin is almost done moulting and is nearly ready to go back to sea.

A leopard seal wakes up from a nap and very unconcernedly takes a look at us.

Four chinstrap penguins run away from the camera like a bunch of bandits.

A crab eater seal dries out on some sea ice looking quite warm and cozy.

An Arctic turn lands on a rock with its camouflaged grey chick below. These birds commute seasonally between the northern Arctic and southern Antarctic.

Three Wilson’s storm petrels dance on the water behind Ocean Nova using their feet to create micro back eddies that bring food to the surface. With one of the largest wing span to body weight ratios their ability to float on the air is uncanny.

A humpback surfaces right in front of the zodiac. You often hear the exhales of these whales before you see them.

A minke whale swims past an iceberg near Portal Point.

Three arctic terns fly over the remains of an old boat. In the background, what looks like wood is actually whale bones. Further back, two tents from two crazy scientists are perched on the old lava flow of Deception Island.

A leopard seal takes us in.

If you click on this photo and look closely, you’ll notice penguin highways. Most colonies have well established paths, and if you happen to get in the way of a penguin on its path, it will often wait for you to move off its path, rather than go around you.

Adelie penguins taking a dive. Watching them climb up this rock hard ice by jumping out of the water and using only their feet is fairly impressive.

The water colour above the tongue (the ice that sticks out beneath the water) of an iceberg often takes on an otherworldly colour.

This adelie penguin isn’t playing around. I got quite the laugh out of this one.


 

Chapter 4:

Landscapes

In the five trips I was on aboard the Ocean Nova, the first explored the eastern side of the Antarctic Peninsula and pushed deep into the tabular iceberg filled Weddel Sea. A highlight of the trip was an extremely rare chance to visit Heroina Island in the Danger Island group —home to a colony of 1.5 million adelie penguins that was recently discovered by satellite imagery. The rest of the trips traversed from the runway at King George Island in the Shetland Islands down south to the Polar Circle along endless headlands and glacier covered peaks of the western side of the Antarctic Peninsula. Then finally, with no guests aboard we spent two days crossing the Drake Passage back to Puerto Williams, Chile. This was the first time I learned, through the absence of it for over a month, what the smell of land with trees was.

Note: click on photos to enlarge and hover over to see captions.

 
 

The suns rays creep over a ridge line illuminating a peak shrouded in cloud.

Large chunks of sea ice grounded at low tide.

For scale: this small piece of ice would only show the top few inches when floating, the rest remains below the surface.

Icebergs, mountains and low cloud cover make for a special sunset.

As long as the Ocean Nova could push ice out of the way, she could continue pushing further into the pack ice.

A group of kayakers from the kayak program aboard take in the colony of Adelie Penguins at Paulet Island.

Three penguins take refuge.

Two zodiac drivers return to shuttle another round of passengers back to the ship from Portal Point.

Ocean Nova at anchor in the caldera of the live volcano that is Deception Island.

When the weather moves in, a late night zodiac excursion can start to look like night ops pretty quick. Relying on handheld GPS in the zodiacs and the communicating with the ship to learn your location on the ships radar can sometimes be the only way to navigate back as she floats at anchor completely invisible.

Two aluminum sailing yachts join us at anchor in Paradise Harbour. As a sailor I couldn’t help but be taken in by the sight of these sailing vessels down here.

Navigating a zodiac in sea ice is a delicate art of choosing a path and slowly pushing ice out of your way, all whilst trying to maintain an ice free propellor.

The moon rises near Graham Passage.

A moody bit of weather illustrates the difficulty of navigation.

A sailing yacht at anchor near the Ukrainian Vernadsky Station.

A sailing yacht heads back north towards the Lemaire Channel.

The toe of a glacier in Cierva Cove towers above a zodiac. In actuality, the ice is hundreds of meters from the boat —making scale hard to grasp.

An iceberg floats past the Ocean Nova at Anchor.

Tim and Blake battle the winds to carve a foot path into the snow and ice with an ice axe. These flagged routes are essential to keeping guests in safe areas.

A group of snowshoers from the snowshoe program hike around on a glacier above Port Lockroy.

The mountains by Graham Passage tower vertically through the tumbling glaciers all around it.

A zodiac makes its way back to the ship through the iceberg graveyard at Cuverville Island.

Two sailing yachts ride at anchor behind the safety of Cuverville Island.

A solitary driver returns to pick up more passengers.

The lack of colour can make for some dreamy light.

A late nights sunset zodiac excursion for the ice nuts.

Kayaking south of the polar circle.

Bailey Head, Deception Island at 5:30am.

The Lemaire Channel almost completely blocked by icebergs floating into it.

A colony of chinstrap penguins and the most colourful place of the trip.

Note, all the white is penguin feathers, not snow. Bailey Head, Deception Island.

Penguins aren’t afraid to climb.

Going for a glacier snowshoe on one of the last days of the trip.

Accompanied by a sailing yacht back across the Drake Passage.

An albatross soars above wind churned waters as we enter the continental waters of South America again. The ominous shipwreck of an old library boat is there to meet us. It was wild to see trees again, my depth perception for darker objects was completely blown for a little while.


 

Chapter 5:

People

The human dynamic on a 79m ship with 40 crew, 15 expedition staff and 70 passengers is a tricky thing to manage. The ships crew —Captain, officers, engineers, deckhands, hotel staff and entire kitchen travel with the ship and they live on it year round. In contrast, the Antarctica 21 Expedition Staff, of which I was a part, joins the Ocean Nova only during the 3-4 month Antarctic season when they have the vessel chartered. After which, she heads north to be chartered by other tour companies in the northern Arctic.

Then the guests fly in. It’s a one day ship turn over, meaning all 70 guests are disembarked and walked up to the runway on King George Island in anticipation of a good flight window —with fickle weather this can sometimes be very touch and go— after which the plane lands and the new guests literally walk past the previous trips guests on the gravel runway. They share the smiles and nervous excitement of a group of people that knows what another group anticipates but has yet to experience. After which we drive them out to the Ocean Nova riding at anchor in inflatables and start the next trip. The plane with the old guests then takes off and flies over us. It’s a tight turn around.

Therefore it’s important that people work well together. Luckily, by a miracle managed by the crewing staff, everyone from 18 different nationalities working onboard was an absolute beauty.

Note: click on photos to enlarge and hover over to see captions.

 
 

Kenn from Gustafson, Alaska.

A 92-year old Chinese passenger travelling with his son was an inspiration for everyone onboard.

Room mate Tim, from Colorado.

Paloma from Santiago, Chile, not stoked on the blowing snow.

A guest catches me taking their photo.

Candid moments of reflection from guests are my favourite thing to try and capture.

Hella, from Holland waits in Maxwell Bay, King George Island for guests to arrive.

Flo, the man who kept us all eating like royalty.

Excited to visit the nations expanding station presence in Antarctica.

Jamie, from England, running show.

Paloma takes a glance through an old British notebook from the 1950’s.

Blake gets a kayak roll in south of the Polar Circle, to everyones delight. Naturally we made him do it again. Sea ice doesn’t free until -1.9C so his head was cold.

Blake grabbing a snap of an iceberg passing by.

Kayakers posing with the Antarctica 21 flag.

Rex, our always smiling bar tender from the Philippines.

Captain Barios, from Panama, cracks a joke with the Chief Engineer from Ukraine.

Seba, the ships doctor, sampling the homemade vodka at the Ukranian Vernadsky Station.

Paloma.

Pablo, from Chile, practicing his sailor stuff with an ice cube anchor.

A passenger takes the plunge.

Hella and Marieka from Holland with Ana Carla from Argentina.

The epic scientists of the Ukranian Vernadsky Station (the station that discovered the ozone hole). They get one resupply ship a year —everything. Obviously an unsanctioned bar was built and then someone figured out how to distill vodka. With the best culture in Antarctica, it was a favourite spot. The bar was adorned with photos of sailing yachts signed by their crews who had overwintered over the years (a lot of boats choose this spot to spend the winter locked into the ice).

A guest signs the visitor logbook at historical Wordie House in the Argentine Islands.

Blake also had his birthday in Antarctica…

Pablo.

A guest with epic sunglass game.

Jamie moves ice away from the zodiac landing to enable boats to get into shallower water for guest pickup.

Loading guests into the boats to head out to the ship for the first time from Maxwell Bay on King George Island.

Hadleigh from England laughing about something as we watch guests jump into the water.

Paloma and room mate Germán from Argentina.

Chago from Santiago.

Karen-cita from Santiago.

Alex, the navigation officer from Ukraine.


Chapter 6:

 

Human Sites

In Antarctica the chances are that unless a glacier has wiped a site of historical exploration or a base camp clean off the rocks, you can still find it in unbelievable condition standing as if time has walked away from it. These historical sites are little time capsules —there’s whale bone huts from sealers and whalers, skeletons and whaling remains, stone huts from ship wrecked explorers, over wintering base camps complete with all remaining supplies and countless other sites of permanent or temporary residence from past and present scientific surveys.

For modern bases, the reason for their existence is a little tricky to explain. Having all signed onto the IAATO treaty declaring the entire continent to be left for peace and science, countries are still posturing in a way that makes you feel like everyone is making sure their interests are represented when the treaty expires in a few decades. Militaries essentially maintain a permanent presence under the pretence of supporting international scientific efforts —though in fairness the logistical support offered by a governments military is essential to maintaining support for year round operations.

Note: click on photos to enlarge and hover over to see captions.

 
 
The “Macaroni” lands with the next round of guests.

The “Macaroni” lands with the next round of guests.

Guests walk down the airstrip at Frei Station, maintained by Chile’s military.

The air tower, so to speak, at Frei Station, King George Island.

Old bits left behind at a long ago abandoned British exploration base. The artifacts are like a time capsule.

“We are not old until regrets start taking the place of dreams”

Old wood boats and whale bones at Whalers Bay, Deception Island.

Old wood boats and whale bones at Whalers Bay, Deception Island.

Vernadsky Station, the Ukranian station that discovered the whole in the ozone layer.

An old Russian vehicle at Bellinghausen Station, beside the Chilean Frei Station.

An old airplane hanger built by the British lies abandoned on Deception Island.

Steam from the hot sands of Deception Island blow around in the wind with an abandoned dry dock and whale oil tanks in the distance.

The abandoned whale oil tanks on Deception Island.

The remains of Larsen’s hut on Paulet Island where the men overwintered, unintentionally, on a diet of penguin.

An old whale oil ship lies run aground.

A Chilean military officer stamps passports at O’Higgin’s base.

An abandoned shop from the 1950’s wonders where the time has gone.


Fin.