I had a shot of homemade Ukrainian vodka today and it
burned!
Our first landing destination was Vernadski Station on
Galindez Island, part of the Argentine Islands. Vernadski was originally built
by the British, and sold to the Ukranians for one pound sterling in 1996 on the
condition that they keep the base in good repair and continue to conduct
quality research.
The building was pretty basic, but fun to explore. Its
fifty-plus year history was documented along the main stairwell, where a photo
of each year’s wintering party was framed and displayed in sequence. We had a
peek into the research areas as well as the personal living spaces. The gym was
a find as the walls were covered with pictures of scantily clad women. Too bad
I didn’t think to look behind the door; other passengers reported a particularly
titillating photo there. But the most effort was evidently spent on decorating
the bar and gift shop upstairs, complete with flashing disco lights and lacey
bras displayed behind the counter.
After a big lunch we head out again for a zodiac
cruise of the Lemaire Channel where we saw the most amazing ice berg formations
yet. The channel is relatively shallow, so many bergs drift in and become
grounded. It felt like we were weaving through a forest of ice sculptures, some
soft and elegant, others sharp and menacing, but all were stunningly beautiful.
The weather proved a tad too much for my equipment,
and almost too much for me! Rain combined with strong winds meant that the
waves were constantly crashing over our zodiac, drenching all on board. I’m not
sure what the temperature was, but because of the wet, I was absolutely
freezing. Thank goodness my Columbia clothing kept my torso nice and dry, but
ice water seeped it’s down the top of my pants, and my hands were frozen claws.
My Canon camera was worse off than me – it simply died.
I was devastated for a little while, as I was silly
enough to not bring a backup kit, but Jason later produced a Pentax body and
lens kit for me to use. Phew! Pentax has invested a lot in weather sealing
their cameras, and it obviously makes a huge difference. All the passengers I
know who had their cameras out today experienced some sort of fault, only
Jason’s gear kept going.
One good thing about being unable to shoot is that I’m forced to see the
landscape independently of a viewfinder. When I stop framing shots and stop
dividing my attention between my surroundings and my camera setting, I’m having
a completely different experience. I know that I will have no other record of
this experience other than what I will be able to remember, so I can’t help but
switch into another mode of awareness, pay closer attention to detail, actually
take note of sensations and smells, rather than just being concerned with the
visual.
So while I’m in this mind frame (teeth chattering,
lips purple and frozen solid, yet still enjoying how the zodiac is weaving
between these heavenly ice structures) a leopard seal pops up from the waves less
than a metre from our boat. It’s a massive creature, sleek and powerful, with a
hunter’s intelligence gleaming in a pair of dark eyes. It stays by us for a
while, circling and surfacing, all the while eyeing us with curiosity. I’m in
awe, moved by the beauty of this wild creature, and very very glad that I’m not
fussing about with dials like everyone else. The experience is worth far more
than any photograph.
