8 am weather balloon launch, on the 7th deck. We were allowed to go beyond the “Do Not Enter” sign to the helipad area where a biologist and a glaciologist—now meteorologist— were launching the second weather balloon. This is part of a global warming study that ships are asked to take part in. It’s a delicate operation to fill a special non-plastic balloon with helium, tie it off, and attach a small transmitter and thermometer before letting her go. Fun to have a countdown—10-9-8-7… Then watched it until it disappeared. The one from two days ago went 300 miles in about 3 hours before it stopped transmitting. And fun fact— apparently there are people out there who make it their hobby to collect the used transmitters from the ocean— as a contest to see who can get the most!
11 am, finally a chance to land on the continent! Until now, landings have been on Antarctica, but technically not the continent— until now when we landed on Terra Australis, the ancient name for the land itself. We loaded into a Zodiac and headed for the Brown Research Station at Paradise Harbor! There we disembarked easily onto rocks (rather than into the water as we have for the previous landings.) This made it quick and stable. We were easily on man-built steps with railings, heading up to the research station (which is closed this year because of Covid.) There was something about the whole place that felt like a rugged ski lodge. We were trekking in big boots on a snow-packed path, but step off the pack and we sunk deep into deep powder. Our trail was marked by golf alignment rods (ha ha) with X’s in areas that were off-limits.
This was a completely different landing. The trails led upwards— up up up— like we were climbing from the basecamp to Mt. Everest. Never mind the rain falling. It took strength and guts to climb all the way to the top and once there, we were just a few feet from a precipitous edge on all sides, no stopping, all the way to the bottom, rocks, or icy water! It looked extremely dangerous and yet John and I managed it and managed to take pictures of the scenery and of the only other people there— the strong Danish couple. We took a picture of them, and they took a picture of us! We’ll exchange at dinner tonight. There was a guide there to congratulate us and then down we went, carefully placing our feet in the steps that we’d made coming up. Tromp, tromp, tromp, we went, barely looking up, because down was a long way down.
On the trail, I thought of the book “Into Thin Air” by Jon Krakauer because crossing our path was everyone else from the ship! We had climbed easily, but the route was extremely dangerous. We wondered about the legalities, so I gave everyone I met “the talk” which went something like this: “Use your best judgment and stay in the footprints we’ve made. Toes on the way up, heels on the way down.” There was no other instruction so maybe I helped?? The good news is that everyone made it back to the ship. (I also think one of the great things about being the first cruiser is that there have been no accidents yet so our risk factor can be way up! Somehow, I like that!!)
Back at the ship, we scouted the library, which is extensive but completely random and without a librarian. I found a book on Antarctica birds and one of British mysteries (next to each other.) While John traipsed the ship, taking pictures, I went to the gym and spa, then wrote a little and finished a watercolor that I’ve been working on for a few days!
After Julian Dodswell’s talk on glaciology, we met Jean and Deb for a bottle of champagne to celebrate our landing on the continent. There is so much here to celebrate! John is always thinking of our friends back home and culling pictures that you might want to see— soon! Good night!
