Tecla in Antarctica, day one

Monday 13th Jan saw us motor sailing towards or next stop off, Penguin Island where we were expecting to arrive around midday. The weather couldn’t have been better with a cloud studded blue sky but, naturally, cold. Passing distant icebergs along the way we were not just impressed by their size but also by their shapes, most of which reminded us of something we were familiar with and so were named accordingly – the name the iceberg game commences. Off to starboard we were passing King George Island, very different in appearance from Elephant Island. Whereas Elephant Island was dominated by broken pinnacles of rock like rotten dragon’s teeth King George had a much smoother profile where a few noticeable peaks were surrounded by ice fields looking like an over iced wedding cake.

The Cathedral
King George Island ahead
The Tanker
Amazing skies over King George Island

Arriving at Penguin island at 13.00 it was again immediately obvious that this was another island of a different nature having neither the jagged peaks or the snow and ice fields but rather just gently rising to two high points over barren slopes that were predominately of a reddish colour.

Penguin Island high land
Tecla standing off Penguin Island with King George behind
Penguin Island beach with King George in the distant
Tecla and RIB lost in the vastness
Penguins of Penguin Island
Coming ashore

On landing on the beach, it became immediately obvious that the origins of the island was volcanic as the beach ‘sand’ was volcanic ash and the rocks were very aerated lava. We had been told that it was possible to walk to the high point (614m) to get good views over the island and adjacent King George but it was rather surprising to realise that, what I had assumed to be a geological feature when viewed from the deck of the boat, was actually an obvious foot path running up to the should between the two high points. This brings home to you how much tourism there is in Antarctica. Anyway, the chance for a decent little hike was to good to be missed by most of our group so we set off up the path.

Team ashore ahead of walks
Looking back from the slopes, Tecla just visible but looking very small

I noted that there was actually some sparse vegetation in the form of very low growing grasses, mosses and lichen and that the red colour of the island was due to the predominant colour of the volcanic ashes that coated the slopes.

Amazing tenacity of vegetation
The climb to the high point

On reaching the shoulder it became obvious that we had actually climbed up the outer edge of the caldera and were now looking down into the crater which evidenced at least three different phases of volcanic activity. Out of one edge of the crater was the remains of an ancient volcanic plug that had obviously been exposed by the later eruption that had formed the main crater. Then in the bottom of the crater there was a further much smaller crater indicating a more recent event. There was an obvious path following the caldera rim around which we then followed before returning to the start point and dropping back down to the beach below. The whole walk had afforded some wonderful views of Penguin and King George Islands and the surrounding ocean. Another very special experience. My assumption is that the relatively low altitude, red / black surface heated by the sun and geothermic heat all contribute to keeping the volcanic slopes free of snow and ice.

Looking down into the main caldera
Down the outer slope to the sea
View over the Caldera with King George Island beyond
View caldera rim out over Tecla to King George Island

When we were all safely back onboard, we were once again moving on to sail over night to our next destination, Deception Island. The evening watch was once more dominated by foggy conditions but this, in itself, led to some near mystical experiences when the wind washed windows into the fog opening views of ice and snow clad mountains with black rock faces bathed in the late evening sun astern of us. Meanwhile, ahead breaks in the mists opened a staircase to the heavens where the fractured edges to the clouds were catching the magnificence of the waning sun. This frozen uninhabited region seems to be beckoning me to come and be intimate through the exploration of her mysteries whilst at the same time shouting, I’m dangerous, only touch me if you dare.

At about 10pm the wind had risen sufficiently for us to add more sail and cut the motor. Simultaneously, we entered a fog bank and sailed on through a silent world of swirling fog banks where, for a while, reality seemed to be suspended. Unfortunately I was dragged back to reality by the need to re-establish a ice look out as we were in an area where radar was showing large bergs and we needed to be on the look-out for growlers (smaller pieces of ice that have broken off the bergs but can still be substantial and cause damage). After two very cold hours up in the bows the watch was over and I was frozen.