Prep for Landing

 It takes a while (15-20 mins) to get all that gear on and almost the same to get it off.
Forget all about a toilet visit during a landing - impossible! So empty your bladder efficiently because you could be on ice for 2-4 hrs.

About 7/8 of an iceberg is below the waterline. The luminous green looks great when captured. A polarising filter will help enormously provided the sun is at 90 deg to your shooting direction.

Happy little 'Chinstraps'

'Hi! pleased to meet you!'

Chinstrap penguins always need athough bubble. The line of black feathers seems to give them a perpetual smile.

Local rules says you can't get closer than five metres to a penguin. But if you stand still they can virtually sit on your feet.

Red 'penguins' on parade

 Marcus from Germany with his Fuji X100. You start with a  layer of thermals, followed by shirt, trousers, fleeces and jumper. The ship provides the outer protective waterproof safety layer and boots.
If you look carefully, everyone is wearing a small inflatable life jacket.

Our Crabeater seal performed for us for 30 minutes. Only later did I notice the snot in his right nostril

Leopard Seal

inquisitive leopard seal checks out our zodiac

Gentoo Penguins searching for nesting places

Planet Antarctica

No people. It was like another planet. A monochromatic planet where animals show little or no fear of humans.

For those who have dreamed join Dale on 20 Dec at FACEZ Fine Art Studio for images, stories (some true) and practical photography tips. One night only, 12 places, bookings essential. $25. Book with Margaret on margaret.n@ozemail.com.au or 9430 6422. Hear Dale while the snow and penguin poo are still fresh.

The Beagle Channel

(above: Simon the Penguin and birdwatching guru)

After a lifeboat drill I prayed for fine weather. 68 persons in that in tiny lifeboat for 18 days at sea was not exactly an appealing idea.

Still no Canadian permit and the troops were getting restless. Then Boris the Boss announced that we would be setting sail down the protected waters of the Beagle Channel, permit or not. After four hours of sailing down the channel if the permit had arrived we would continue south to Antarctica. If no permit had arrived from the Canadian authorities we would turn east to South Georgia. The natives were reseless.

(early morning on board Akademik Ioffe in Ushuaia harbour)

We gathered on the decks with binoculars and cameras and 400mm lenses trying to spot albatross, but mainly trying to spot the permit. Just what are those Canadians doing besides making maple syrup.

The chef brewed up coffee with a dash of the doings and fresh ginger cookies. But happy feet had given away to shuffling feet as we chugged at 12 knots along Beagle, Only an hour to go before the intersection.

With an hour left on the clock Big Bad Boris swung from the yardarm like Johnny Depp and proclaimed that the permit had just been received by carrier pigeon and we bound for Antarctica.
We shot so many albatrosses after hearing that news. There's the old myth that killing an albatross brings bad luck to sailors. Well we shot maybe a hundred or more that afternoon. The WAndering Albatross has wingspan approaching that of a Cessna 152 but a little more elegant. They swoop and dive and stalk the ship waiting for what?

I snuggled into my cozy bunk that night, porthole open above my head and doona pulled up. The menace of Drake's Passage lay ahead but at this stage I was happy that I was Antarctica bound.

Antarctic Bound (not quite)

The seafaring port of Ushuaia was surrounded by snow-capped mountains. It is also home to one of the best camera shops I've come across in South America. I bought a pair of binoculars then we lunched at an Irish pub.

We met the other 49 passengers at the Albatross Hotel (I thought albatrosses were bad luck for seafarers.) The One Ocean machine kicked into action and we bussed 5 minutes to the harbour. I sat next to a Pakistani named Zac, a New York doctor. He wanted to talk cricket. I told him I was out of touch but believed Julia Gilliard may be named the next Aussie captain.

Up the gangplank and into cabin 506. A great little cabin, functional, rock solid (or at least I thought so). Private facilities and the comfiest bed I've had in 4 weeks.

Then the bad news. One Ocean announced that the permit to enter Antarctic waters had not been signed off by the Canadian authorities. We had to spend the night tied up to the wharf. The good news was that I didn't get seasick.