My Trips

Killer Whales Can be Killer Whales Again, January 30

When I opened our cabin shade this morning, I saw nothing but a sheet of white.  I thought I was looking out at a fog bank.  It took a few moments to realize that we were sailing through a narrow, steep-sided channel.  What I was actually looking at was the ice- and snow-covered rocky sides of the channel which blended into the grey sky.

It wasn’t long until we dropped anchor at the research station at Port Lockroy, a beautiful and perfect natural harbor in a horseshoe bay.  The bay itself is ringed by steep slopes and glaciers.  As the sun emerged, the scene was one of brilliant whites, blue water and dark, rocky outcroppings.  The layers of ice, laid down over millennia, were clearly visible in the cross section along the water’s edge.  The flatter sections along the shoreline were inhabited by colonies of penguins going about their daily business. 

The research station itself sits on a rocky island in the bay, looking very much like you would expect it to: A cluster of slightly ramshackle buildings nicely restored and painted in brown with red trim, a Quonset hut, a radio antenna and a flagpole with a British flag flying resolutely at the top and a penguin standing at attention at the bottom.  Penguins were wandering everywhere among the buildings.  There was a “penguin highway” crossing the path leading from the water’s edge to the buildings.  We were required to yield right of way to any penguins who happened to be crossing. 

Port Lockroy, although named for a Frenchman and briefly a whaling station, is best known as a British base and research station. Starting in 1944 British Base A was partly established to keep an eye on German naval activity during World War II, partly established to keep Argentina, the U.S., Germany or Japan from laying claim to new territory, and partly established as a research station.  In later years and until abandoned in 1962, it was used for measuring the ionosphere, recording atmospheric conditions and contributing to the International Geophysical Year of 1957. 

Restored and re-occupied in 1996, it now serves as a research station, a museum for passing cruises, a gift shop and post office.  The only gift shop we went anywhere near for the entire trip!  The museum shows the living conditions of the earlier occupants, ranging from a radio room, common area, sleeping quarters complete with painted ladies on the walls, and a kitchen with recipes for treats like seal brain omelets.

I’m sure more than one of you have watched The Crown this year.  Remember when Prince Philip ran away from home, spent months on the Royal Yacht and engaged in manly pursuits, like beard growing?  Port Lockroy was one of the locations he visited.  Accordingly, his visit here is documented with photos and other mementos.

Our morning visit behind us, the ship again ventured further south.  Sailing through the channels between the islands and the Antarctic continent, we happened upon a small pod of killer whales.

There are three whale researchers on board.  Part of their job on board is to share their knowledge with the passengers.  But their real job is to conduct research on the whales that we encounter.  They spend a great amount of time in these waters and are very familiar with most of the individual whales that we see.  When a pod of whales is seen, they will launch a zodiac and go off in pursuit.  Not only do they seek to identify the individuals, they fly a drone over the top of the whales.  Aerial photography gives them a great vantage point for assessing the health of the whales.  They’re seeing an increase in thinner, less healthy whales.  They also fly the drone through the “blow” of a whale as it surfaces, which allows them to collect samples of what’s roaming around in the lungs.  Using dart guns that penetrate a small section of skin and then detach, they also collect biopsies.  We got to see them in action several times, being able to barely make out the drone as they guided it around.  At other times, they would disappear from sight for several hours, only to eventually return.

Note that I said killer whales earlier, and not orcas.  This is how the researchers referred to them, and someone asked them about this.  I know for a long period of time the use of the term killer whale was discouraged, that it gave the whales a “bad rap”, and that they shouldn’t be thought of as killers any more than any other predator going about the business of trying to feed themselves and their families.  Technically, they aren’t even whales.  The term orca was the preferred term.

The researchers explained that much has been learned about killer whales lately.  There are many varieties of the animal, and that we would be introduced to three different types during our stay in Antarctic waters.  There’s the Type A, which is the huge black and white variety that can grow up to around 30 feet in length.  On the largest males, the dorsal fin alone can be 7 feet tall.  This is the variety seen in places like Sea World.  But we would also see Type B1 and Type B2.  Smaller than the Type A’s, they have fancier coloration.  Along with the black and white sections, they also have splotches of various shades of grey.  The B1’s are bigger than the B2’s.  They like to eat seals, and are sometimes seen generating large waves trying to wash crabeater seals off of flat icebergs.  Type B2’s seem to prefer penguins.

The researchers believe that eventually each of these varieties will be classified as its own species, and that the large black and white ones will be the only ones classified as Orcinus Orca. Calling all of these varieties orcas is really a false term.  Hence, they refer to them collectively as killer whales.

So killer whales, free of political correctness, are free to be killer whales again.

In the evening, we cruised through the Lamaire Channel, an inland passage dotted with hundreds of icebergs.  Instead of finding shapes in clouds, here you look for shapes in the icebergs.  They ranged from tiny bits of floating ice to island sized bergs.  It was mesmerizing.  You always wanted to see what was around the next bend.  But the sun barely sets this time of year in Antarctica.  No sooner does it set, that it’s nearly time for sunrise again.  We soon learned that waiting for the sun to set before retiring was not wise.