Antarctic Dreams...

My fascination with Antarctica and everything frozen began when I was a 10-year-old farm girl on a school trip to the Antarctic Gallery at the Canterbury Museum in New Zealand. The collection of old photographs, clothing and maps told the stories of Robert Falcon Scott's ill-fated expedition and Ernest Shackleton's long voyage to save his crew and those images and stories never left me.

Five years later I dropped out of high school, announced to my traumatized parents I was going to get a job and save enough money to meet (or stalk!) Sir Peter Scott, Robert Falcon Scott's son who founded what is now the Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust at Slimbridge, Gloucestershire, England.

I wrote to the Trust and asked if they had any jobs I could do, thinking I would eventually get to meet Sir Peter. I got a very nice letter back, not from Sir Peter, but from the curator saying "lets talk when you get here." A year later I arrived in Slimbridge, letter in hand ready to meet the man. The alarmed curator gave me a summer job, sent me off with a shovel to clean up wildfowl droppings and said Sir Peter should visit the Trust soon.
He did and I was so overwhelmed I tripped over my own feet and mumbled an incomprehensible "nice to meet you" and he moved on, probably wondering what kind of people his curator was hiring.

After that I set my sights on going to Antarctica and to visit Ernest Shackleton's grave site on South Georgia and some 25 years later I got there.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At sea for 30 days, covering 2500 miles on a former Russian research vessel, the Sergey Vavilov operated by a Canadian expedition.
Our starting point was Ushuaia in Southern Argentina and we traveled to the Antarctic Peninsula via the Falkland Islands and South Georgia.
There were 95 passengers and 60 crew, we made 12 land excursions, and took several zodiac cruises.

We had close encounters with five species of penguin, an inquisitive leopard seal, testosterone-fueled elephant seals and many cute seals.
We saw seemingly endless species of albatross and other sea birds all fascinated by who we were and why we were passing through their home.
We sailed through sea conditions which varied between the flat calm of the inner waters of the Antarctic Peninsula to 30 foot swells in the Drake Passage.

During the first few days it became clear that most of us were not born sailors. A wise guide summed up seasickness in one sentence.
"First you think you are dying, then you want to die, then you wonder why you haven't died."

Any kind of dignity we might have had when boarding the ship, rapidly evaporated during the early days. Meal times seemed to bring out the sea-sickness in those toughing it out without medication. The sight of the contents of their soup bowl rolling side to side with the motion of the ship was too much to bear and the usual suspects made hasty retreats to their cabins.

Getting dressed for an excursion was another dignity sapper. Our expedition guides advised us to wear layer upon layer but not only did it take 20 minutes to apply the layers and by the time we were fully dressed we were, as my London cabin-mate would call it, "boiled in the bag."

The ultimate aim of the expedition was to spend as much time off the boat as possible,maximizing the opportunity of wildlife and iceberg sightings while staying safe and not causing stress to the wildlife.

Before each excursion we were briefed about landing conditions, possible hazards such as playful fur seals and other wildlife we could encounter. The most important rule was staying 10 feet away from all wildlife. However you were allowed to stand your ground if the came up to you - and they did.
Maybe it was the color of my wet weather gear or maybe I looked like a giant penguin,but for day after day I became irresistible to birds.

On South Georgia, one curious South Polar Skua took a liking to me or its own reflection in the lens of my camera while I was laying on my stomach photographing penguins. It fearlessly wandered up to me and with a bemused expression, tilted its head from side to side trying to figure out who was this
handsome newcomer he was seeing in my lens.

Also in South Georgia, a young King Penguin also found me intriguing and fascinating. It gave me several light nudges with its beak until it got bored and wandered off.

There were travelling days between Ushuaia and the Falkland Islands and then onto South Georgia when we did not get off the boat for up to three days. The boat would steam along at a sedate 14 knots with swarms of seabirds in hot pursuit.

The international crew of guides consisted of Australians and Canadians and a solitary Scotsman. Between them they were experts in Antarctic history, geology, geography, photography and Antarctic flora and fauna.

What made this trip special was the crew's enthusiasm and passion for the Southern Ocean and its inhabitants.

From the quiet Russian captain who kept us safe and the ladies who left chocolates on our pillows at night, to the zodiac drivers who got drenched trying to get us the best view possible of a seal on a rock and the photography guide who had endless patience for our stupid questions,they all helped make my Antarctic dreams come true.