My Trips

We Become Legit Polar Explorers. February 1

As with a lot of mornings, we were on the bridge early. But this wasn’t most mornings.  Today we crossed the Antarctic Circle.

The polar circles are defined by the line beyond where there is at least one day a year when the sun does not set below the horizon and at least one day when it does not rise above the horizon.  Sounds simple enough.  However, the earth wobbles.  That wobbling causes the polar circles to move slightly, even on a daily basis.  You can’t completely trust your handy globe or atlas.

On this day, the Antarctic Circle was calculated to be 66 degrees 33.6 minutes South Latitude.  On the bridge, we looked at the instruments, watching our position gradually move to 66 degrees, then 10 minutes, 20 minutes and 30 minutes.  Finally, with the ship’s horn blasting, we were across.  Around the bridge there were a few lame jokes about feeling the bump as we crossed or seeing the yellow line, but mostly it was a moment of celebration.  Another milestone, and one we might never have reached.

Flexibility is very important on this trip.  The captain and expedition leader have a plan at the beginning of the voyage, and the beginning of each day.  Based on weather, wind and ice reports, the plan almost always changes.  A day’s plan can be changed at any time.  Plan A becomes Plan B becomes Plan C.  The staff does an excellent job of finding us the best locations and the best weather, so it’s no fluke that we have days like we did yesterday.  But, there are no guarantees of any specific landings and definitely no guarantee of crossing the Antarctic Circle.

Flexibility is also very important on the part of the passengers.  Here’s what I mean.  Yesterday was a bright, sunny spectacular day.  A great day to have a seat in the snow, look around, take it all in and soak up some polar sun.  Today, we woke to foggy, still conditions.  The fog soon cleared, and the sun emerged but then the wind came up.  We sailed into a fjord that will probably be our southern-most point on this trip, and pushed through pieces of ice, big and small.  The wind got stronger, the weather bleaker.  As we nudged against a large berg, it was announced that it was time for the polar plunge!  Everyone was aghast.  Why not yesterday when conditions were so perfect?  Why now, when the wind was beginning to howl?  This is where flexibility gets put to the test, but this is what we came for, so why not?

A quick science refresher:  Water freezes at 0 degrees C, or 32 degrees F.  Salt water, however, freezes at a lower temperature.  The waters around Antarctica are ocean water.  So, it’s salt water, and therefore the liquid ocean can be colder than 32F.  You see where I’m going here?  We later found out the water temperature was 29 degrees F.

No matter, it was go time.

The general process goes something like this:  Dash to the cabin while trying to quell the rising panic.  Change into swim suit and throw on a robe.  Make your way down to the mudroom where equally “intrepid” souls are waiting in line.  From the exit of the mudroom, there’s a zodiac tied alongside the ship.  Step into the zodiac and embrace the full impact of the elements while wearing next to nothing.  Take note that the ship’s doctor is standing by the exit with a portable defibrillator at his feet.  Make your way to the front of the zodiac and step up on to the edge.  Look across a bit of open water to another zodiac hovering nearby.  In the open water there’s a diver, who has the intelligence to be wearing a dry suit.  Look across to the other zodiac where there’s a photographer (warmly dressed) ready to record your step into fame.  Before you have too much time to think, step off into the air, and fall gracefully, with style – and fear – into the water chilled to a pleasant below freezing temperature.

I’ve heard the stories that say when you plunge into freezing water that it feels like you’re being stabbed with thousands of knives.  That it can knock the breath out of you.  That it can be disorienting.  I expected worse than the reality.  Hitting the water got my attention.  It certainly felt cold.  But it was exhilarating.  Almost refreshing…..but not.  Definitely got my attention.

But before you know it, pop to the surface.  Swim a stroke or two to where two sets of hands .help you onto a platform attached to the side of the zodiac you jumped from.  Climb back into the zodiac, and into the warmth of the ship.  Grab a towel from an outstretched hand (you don’t really focus on who the hand is attached to) and re-enter the mudroom.  Another outstretched hand gives you a shot of vodka and a cup of hot chocolate.  And you’re done!!

Surprisingly, you get warm quickly.  Blood flows to your core to protect the vital organs so you’re actually cozy on the inside.  Some of the effects linger, though.  Drinking the cocoa, the tremor in my hands took a little while to dissipate.    

It was over so quickly, and the adrenaline was flowing.  You really feel alive and exhilarated.  So much so, that we decided to go again.  There were probably a dozen or more people who went a second time.  The experience was pretty much the same, only with less fear.  The water wasn’t any warmer though.

Along with the exhilaration, the shock of hitting the water and the moment of fear while standing on the zodiac, one of my most vivid impressions was how numbing it was on my feet.  After both jumps, climbing out of the water onto the platform, I was completely focused on how painful it would be to bang my toes on the side of the platform.  I was extremely careful to make sure I got my feet up.  The walk back over the metal grating from the ship entrance and into the mudroom was also sensitive.

So, it’s done!  Throughout this trip, there’s been this lurking knowledge that we would have to face this day.  It was never really a concern and we (mostly) looked forward to it.  But still there’s a little anxiety that’s now gone, and we have the knowledge that unless there’s some kind of mishap, we shouldn’t have to plunge back into the subfreezing water again – on this trip anyway.  As with most things in life, the anticipation was worse than the reality.  It’s a good thing to try to remember that.

Later in the day, we visited Detaille Island, site of British Base W.  This was the mental image of what we had for Antarctica:  High winds, choppy seas, spray breaking over the bow of the zodiac as we rode ashore.  We wore all the layers of parkas, gloves hats and hoods for this one.  Base W is an abandoned British station from the 1950’s.  It was abandoned on about 24 hours’ notice after the team found out about an impending storm that might leave them stranded for the winter.  The place is strewn with fascinating artifacts, like magazines and journals, clothes, long johns, furniture and bedding.  The larder is still stocked with rusting tins of 1950’s scotch oats and grape nuts.

The landscape was even more fascinating.  A short uphill trek from the buildings led to a magical view.  The little point we stood on was surrounded by ice bergs and tabular bergs of all varieties.  A few skuas and shags flew around, and we could observe resting Weddell seals.  Not a lot to observe.  They rarely move.  Nearby was a sizeable hill with a colony of adélie penguins who were engaged in their daily drudgery of waddling up a long steep incline from the water, just to throw up in a chick’s mouth and then head back down.  Happy Feet indeed.  We enjoyed a long talk with a naturalist and National Geographic photographer until we were kicked off the hilltop.  All of this was going on as the wind blustered about us and the clouds rolled by.  It was a completely different experience than what we had 24 hours earlier, but just as magical