Peggotty Bluff, King Haakon Bay, South Georgia Island
South Georgia Island is wind blowing sea spume from the crests of ocean swells. It is magnificent southern seabirds—wandering and gray-headed albatrosses, white-chinned and giant petrels, and smaller prions and storm-petrels—gliding up the face of the swells and sliding down their backs. It is giant icebergs, remnants of the great but shrinking Antarctic ice shelves, now broken off, drifted northward, and grounded on the shallows around the island, shrouded by morning fog or gleaming in the magical low light of the evening sky. It is, of course, the wildlife: penguins, fur seals, and elephant seals, the two seal species now recovering impressively from decimation by 19th Century sealers seeking their silky pelts, and blubber rendered into oil and carried away in barrels. And it is stories of southern explorers, beginning with the indefatigable Captain James Cook, Captain of an earlier Endeavour and discoverer of South Georgia, and continuing with the incredible story of Ernest Shackleton and his trek across South Georgia to bring rescue to his men waiting on Elephant Island.
Today we had a South Georgia sampler—a little bit of all of the above. Our day began with howling wind and giant swells from the northeast, denying us access to the north coast of the island. We could find protection from the swells and a possible landing only in King Haakon Bay, which happens to be the spot where Shackleton and the James Caird finally found refuge after their 800-mile crossing from Elephant Island. We landed at Peggotty Bluff, the very spot where three men huddled under the overturned boat while Shackleton, Frank Worsley, and Tom Crean crossed the island to the whaling station at Stromness. Waiting ashore for us and our cameras were king and gentoo penguins, fur seals, and elephant seals. The old fellow seen above has seen it all, and he scarcely took notice of our landing. He bears the scars of encounters with other males in previous breeding seasons as he defended a stretch of beach and the right to breed with the females in his territory. A fresh wound attests to this year’s combat. Now, with the breeding season winding down, he seems the epitome of inactivity as he rests and recovers. For the coming year his time will be spent molting, feeding on deep-water squid, and resting, to regain the mass that he has lost, the better to compete again for breeding rights on a beach on South Georgia Island.
South Georgia Island is wind blowing sea spume from the crests of ocean swells. It is magnificent southern seabirds—wandering and gray-headed albatrosses, white-chinned and giant petrels, and smaller prions and storm-petrels—gliding up the face of the swells and sliding down their backs. It is giant icebergs, remnants of the great but shrinking Antarctic ice shelves, now broken off, drifted northward, and grounded on the shallows around the island, shrouded by morning fog or gleaming in the magical low light of the evening sky. It is, of course, the wildlife: penguins, fur seals, and elephant seals, the two seal species now recovering impressively from decimation by 19th Century sealers seeking their silky pelts, and blubber rendered into oil and carried away in barrels. And it is stories of southern explorers, beginning with the indefatigable Captain James Cook, Captain of an earlier Endeavour and discoverer of South Georgia, and continuing with the incredible story of Ernest Shackleton and his trek across South Georgia to bring rescue to his men waiting on Elephant Island.
Today we had a South Georgia sampler—a little bit of all of the above. Our day began with howling wind and giant swells from the northeast, denying us access to the north coast of the island. We could find protection from the swells and a possible landing only in King Haakon Bay, which happens to be the spot where Shackleton and the James Caird finally found refuge after their 800-mile crossing from Elephant Island. We landed at Peggotty Bluff, the very spot where three men huddled under the overturned boat while Shackleton, Frank Worsley, and Tom Crean crossed the island to the whaling station at Stromness. Waiting ashore for us and our cameras were king and gentoo penguins, fur seals, and elephant seals. The old fellow seen above has seen it all, and he scarcely took notice of our landing. He bears the scars of encounters with other males in previous breeding seasons as he defended a stretch of beach and the right to breed with the females in his territory. A fresh wound attests to this year’s combat. Now, with the breeding season winding down, he seems the epitome of inactivity as he rests and recovers. For the coming year his time will be spent molting, feeding on deep-water squid, and resting, to regain the mass that he has lost, the better to compete again for breeding rights on a beach on South Georgia Island.
