Campbell Island

The winds were rising as we made our way back to the Spirit of Enderby; the zodiacs were loaded and lashed down.  We were directed to “secure” our cabins, hatches and portholes.  To those of us who had been through this drill before it was clear we were probably in for a difficult crossing to Campbell Island.  It was rough seas throughout the night, but I was tired and slept in short spells of two or three hours, then something would start moving around the cabin that needed to be repositioned.  On the bridge in the morning I discovered that we were making about 2 knots into the headwind when normal progress was usually at least 12.  The waves were cresting and crashing over the bow and sending cascades of spray back over the ship sometimes making it nearly impossible to see out of the bridge.  I do not come to the Southern Ocean to have a rough seas experience or to be tossed about like a leaf in a tornado, but if you have never had a truly turbulent and extended time on a harrowing ocean…I highly recommend it.  The events are much better than any rollercoaster can provide you.  The “Roaring Forties,” in this part of the world, and “Drake’s Lake,” between the tip of South America and Antarctica, are probably a “toss up” as to which might provide the best base experience to judge others by.

From the bridge I went down to the coffee bar and talked with a few of the more sea worthy who were also getting something hot to drink.  The talk was that we would be at least 24 hours more at sea before making Campbell Island and the Captain expected pretty much the same conditions.  It is important to have one hand grasping the numerous “hold ons.”  For those fool-hardies who believe their splayed legs and personal ability to keep their balance is often a flight across the room and a splat against the deck or wall as the catapulting momentum of the deck launches them.  I comment on this because on every ship I have been on it seems that there are always a few who seen to think their “sea legs” and reaction times are better than the crew or the expedition staff’s who always have a hold on something to keep their stability.  Painfully bent fingers, sprained wrists, bloody noses, shrieks of fright while in flight and stumbling crashes are all avoided by the smart people on the trip who wrap a few free fingers around the provided hand holds.  After the coffee bar I went back to the bridge to watch the sea, the weather and the sea birds that seem unaffected by the gales.  On the bridge it was confirmed that our expected arrival at Campbell Island was around noon tomorrow.

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Jacquemart Island off the southern end of Campbell Island popped up on the horizon first.  We were still in rough seas and I would guess our up and down motion was about twenty feet which would make the Island visible and then it would sink below the horizon again.  Then the much greater mass of Campbell was clear through the spray and haze.  I allowed myself the luxury of thinking we would find nearly flat, calm water in Perseverance Harbour.  (*On this website and an earlier visit to Campbell, tag “Campbell Island,” I wrote a brief description of the volcanic origins and subsequent geological development of the Island.  Double click on the tag name and then when a short paragraph opens, double click on the title to get the entire article.)

It was calm in Perseverance Harbour.  We anchored and had lunch before going ashore.  I was looking forward to the long hike on the boardwalk from the research headquarters to the northern hilltops and the Southern Royal Albatross nesting area.  I had made this hike before and had an especially memorable encounter with a Royal Albatross.  I like the wooden walkways that have been put in some places to protect the environment because they also make these longer hikes through difficult terrain easier.  Initially when I read several years ago about the intended installation of such walkways I had mixed feelings in that I thought they would detract from the natural, wild setting - being in the wilderness and all that sort of thing, but now I am all for the ones I have had a chance to use.  So far they are narrow, well constructed and artfully made.  From my perspective they have contributed to my getting through swampy ground, over steep, muddy-banked creeks, across dense tussock grasslands, etc.  Often they bring one to a point where you leave the walkway and can view or take photographs of what you came to see and do.  It is also a little strange to me that on a boardwalk I often now stop and look more closely at the vegetation I am so used to struggling through and took little time in the past to appreciate, I was too busy looking for a path through it.

We did not leave the gale force weather at sea.  We found some calm in the Harbour and at the trailhead but the further we hiked and the higher we went the more wind we ran into.  I did not get to the end of the boardwalk this time. The wind was so strong people were crawling on hands and knees on the boardwalk, holding onto its edges, just to keep going.  For those who stood up, they were blown back or knocked over. I came across the hike leader sitting on the boardwalk with his back to a high tussock mound immediately adjacent to the walkway.  On South Georgia one sometimes gets caught in a katabatic wind and the Poncets always instruct that it is just safer to find rock or a tussock mound and sit out of the wind until the wind drops.  There can be all kinds and sizes of projectiles in very high winds.  We mused about the people low-crawling their way up the boardwalk.  I could also see Southern Royal Albatross walking up the ridgeline, they would then open their wings, lift off the ground and in some cases soar away.  The majority of Southern Royals were sitting on eggs in their nests with their eyes closed.  After sitting on the boardwalk for a while I decided to return to the start point where the wind was more manageable and some other birds were walking around.  I told myself that I’d be back another day.

Everyone was looking forward to getting back to the ship for Christmas/Boxing Day dinner.  It was December 26^th and we had postponed yesterday’s celebration because the seas were so rough and we could combine both the American and English based holidays in calmer waters.  There was much talk about the wind and the walkway, about being blasted more on land than at sea, about the “white knuckled low crawlers” bound and determined to make it to the end of the boardwalk…laughter and shared camaraderie in the face of natural obstacles.  Combine that with a Christmas tree and a traditional Holiday feast; endless buffet of baked ham, turkey, roast beef and a very nice anti-pasta platter for each table, salads, vegetables, cheeses, and Christmas Deserts and Puddings (croquembouche with strawberries, Christmas Pudding, pavolova, mince tarts, passion fruit shortbread, chocolate fudge) and bowls of strawberries and blueberries all topped with “popper” party hats on our heads…we sang traditional songs and had a joyous evening in the calm harbour.

An announcement was made as we began heading back to our cabins that a little after midnight we would head out to sea for Snares Island.  They requested we put everything away, securely close all doors and dog the potholes.  We could sleep as late as we wished but we could also expect another washing machine agitation through the night.  Tomorrow would be another full day at sea.

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