A true highlight in many ways was our landing at a continental Antarctic site, rather than at one of the many islands that surround the outer part of the Antarctic peninsula in the Southern ocean. At Orne Harbor, we were to set foot on the actual continent — we had all been eagerly waiting for that very special moment!
As we reached the area, the terrain looked markedly different with rugged and mighty mountains appearing around us. Zodiacing into the bay, we passed massive, dark and steep cliffs, maybe 200 meters high on one side, and even higher on the other. A bunch of good sized growlers and lots of brash ice greeted us, all shimmering turquoise-green underwater. The contrast was quite stark.
We were dropped off at a small and very ice site, right at the bottom of a huge slope that would have been great for skiing, except that everyone would have ended right in the water or on an iceberg upon reaching the bottom. The expedition team had set a route up that hill, about 100 meters high, for us to get up to a ridge for the full view of the bay as well as a spectacular panorama of the water on the other side. Then we each got a ski pole and off we went climbing up this white wall to become one with this vast Antarctic landscape.
Dressed warmly in layers, wearing life vest and with my backpack, it actually took me a few breaths to get up through the uneven snow. But the cold and fresh Antarctic air was cleansing and after so many days on the ship it felt good to use my muscles in this most unusual of workouts.
As I gained altitude, I kept turning around because the view underneath became more breathtaking with every step. I also kept thinking of what we had discussed on the ship — what we would bring to Antarctica and what we would leave behind. I had been unclear to me what this would look like and how this process might unfold. But there I was, step by step, my body and mind were working their way up that hill all while shedding old thoughts about worries, self doubt, and fear of failure.
Strong gusts of icy wind welcomed me up on the ridge. They seemed to sweep away the last of my sorrows. The views that soon after emerged were magical and freeing. I felt like being on top of the world, out of this world, in a new world. With a new view of it all.
Chinstrap penguins were everywhere on the ridge, waddling around or sitting on the rocks and braving the cold together. They had climbed up all this way to be save and to find rocks to breed on. Or perhaps they just knew what a special place this is, high above the water and a little close to the sky.
Following our decent, one growler was close to the little cliff we were waiting on to get back into the zodiacs. We paused our elated chit-chats for a moment to listen to place before departing. The glacial ice was singing to us, with its thousand year old voice. Countless last breaths as it melted little by little, releasing ancient air to become water once again in this century. The iceberg’s crackling sounds was a deeply touching melody that wasn’t loud. But once we knew what to listen for, we could not un-hear it. Indeed, the dim voices are often overheard yet we should not forget that they may provide what is missing. Because every voice matters.