A Southern Christmas 2001 - Day 5

Please remember, if you're reading this for the first time, stop and go back to the beginning HERE.

Otherwise welcome to Day 5 on our Antarctic saga...

Thursday 20th December 2001

at sea (61 deg S, 125 deg E)

We’ve had the smooth and now we’re getting the rough. It is as if having been granted smooth passage through the furious fifties, we’ve had to make up for it in the shrieking sixties. We crossed the 60th parallel at about 1230 and the barometer fell rapidly.

The big excitement of the day, however, was the iceberg sighting. The first one was spotted this morning at 0230, which ended the ice raffle and raised $150 towards Camp Quality when Ian, one of the meteorologists on the way south for his fifth winter donated his prize. However, since it was at half-past two in the morning, not many people other than Jake the second mate who was on watch at that time, were able to see it. It wasn’t until a little later that morning that we got to see the object for which we had all been waiting.

At about 10 am, a bunch of us were clustered around the bridge when the skipper drew our attention to a blip on the radar about 10 miles dead ahead of us. As we got closer, it loomed out of the mist on our starboard side. It was a monster, looking like a big white rocky island with cliff faces on all sides and waves breaking against it. It was at least 40 or 50 times the size of the ship, like a massive silvery-blue Gibraltar drifting ever so slowly in a northerly direction. It was so close that we could make out the discolouration from some organism, algae maybe, on its upper parts. It was a spectacular introduction to this great south land and filled us all, especially the first trippers with great anticipation of what was to come. We saw another two or three as the day wore on, although most of them were too far away to see their features and were nothing like that first spectacular sight.
After this, the weather deteriorated and by later afternoon we were heading into the teeth of a strong gale with winds of 35 to 45 knots and six to eight metre waves crashing over the bow and occasionally going straight over the top of the bridge. By early evening, our speed was down to six or eight knots as we diverted course slightly further south-south-west to get into the sea ice earlier and provide some calmer conditions.
This would be a good moment to mention the ship’s bridge and the attitude that the officers and crew of Aurora have toward the expeditioners. The bridge is without a doubt the congregation point; and all the officers and crew without exception, make their passengers welcome throughout the voyage. As an old ship’s engineer in a former life, I will always remember that the engine room is the real heart of a ship. This is where you will find the thrust and the muscle and the energy needed to get us to our destination – but the bridge is where the decisions are made; where the eyes and ears see, and the voice communicates. Little wonder that during my own sea days, I would spend as much time that I could on the ship’s bridge, rather than down below in the artificial light of a hot and noisy engine room.
Captain Tony Hansen has been a most gracious and informative host to us all. No question is too inane or pointless and no request for information is too much trouble to answer. Yet throughout this his officers and crew go about the task with an air of professionalism of which the ship’s owners and the Australian Antarctic Division can be justifiably proud.
I haven’t had a chance to talk more about the scientists today. Angela is our krill expert who will be collecting them as we approach the ice edge. Tonight’s krill fishing has been postponed due to the poor weather – more about this tomorrow.