I'm off to Antarctica

[Norman_Clyde]

As ship physician on the M/V Orlova, via Quark Expeditions. The level of adventure is likely to be many notches below your average excursion to the Pickets, but the sights ought to be unique. I anticipate being able to photograph a few unclimbed peaks along the Antarctic Peninsula, just to whet the appetites of those eager for new horizons. As it will cost five bucks just to send an email, I doubt I will be able to post while on board. But anyone who wants to can email me at lyubovmm@skyfile.com.

[JosephH]

Norman, if you hit Tierra Del Fuego keep an eye open for Charlie Porter and his "Ocean Tramp" ketch which is in Puerto Montt in the winter and sails down to Puerto Williams in the summer and also hits Ushuaia. He runs charters for NOAA and others. I believe his contact info can be had via AAC member Olaf Sööt at osoot@olafsoot.com...

 

Oh, and there's a thread about you going on SuperTopo.com at http://www.supertopo.com/climbing/thread.html?topic_id=276456&f=30&b=0

[crackers]

Damian Gildea, Jed Brown, and the rest of their crew are down there now climbing...there might not BE any unclimbed peaks when they're done!

 

Have a great time!

[Norman_Clyde]

It was way cool. Wildness in abundance. So many mountains it was utterly overwhelming. I could hardly take it all in. Massive vertical walls shooting straight up from the sea. So many huge glaciers they didn't even have names. Even more amazing: An ecosystem and food chain actually intact and in balance, from phytoplankton to Leopard Seals. I watched a Leopard Seal devour a penguin, though I missed it a few days later when another seal bit a hole in the pontoons of four different Zodiac boats.

It is both easy and difficult to conceive of mountaineering on the Antarctic Peninsula. Dozens and dozens of peaks offer major mixed climbing challenges, many starting literally yards from shore. The "approach" is pretty minimal, until you consider the 10K air miles, then 400 sea miles across the Southern Ocean, plus the fact that a suitable boat for this journey is a little more expensive to hire than a bush plane. Not to mention that getting a permit is probably impossible, and the regulations require you to pack out your own urine. But if a sufficiently dedicated party could manage to get landed on the Peninsula with a big cache of food, they could have a couple of weeks of climbing Valhalla. The upper Antarctic Peninsula is only about 30 mileswide, with mountains on both sides and an ice plateau in between. I myself like the idea of a ski traverse starting at someplace like Neko Harbor and finishing at Hope Bay, Esperanza Station, at the northern tip, with occasional side trips to climb the most appealing mountains along the way.

 

 

 

 

 

[Off_White]

Sounds wild, I trust you'll post up some more pics?

 

Here's a link to a quasi-on topic music video

[G-spotter]

Una's Tits?

[Weekend_Climberz]

That's what I was thinking. Weren't those in the AAJ back a few years, maybe 2002. The tallest one has already been climbed.

[Bug]

More info and pics. Comeon Norm, write up a lengthy review. You will thank yourself later.

[skykilo]

I was just thinking about you while driving by the reservoir. Cool way to use your expertise to see some scenery.

[wayne]

Ozzum Norm

Cant wait for more!

[spicoli11]

Now thats a cornice

[Norman_Clyde]

Una's Tits?

From the Australian Antarctic Data Centre:

"Cape forming the S side of the entrance to Flandres Bay and separating the Danco and Graham Coasts on the W coast of Antarctic Peninsula. Discovered in 1898 by the Belgica AE under Gerlache and named by him for Prof. A. Renard, a member of the Belgica Commission and of the Belgian Royal Academy."

 

Una is said to have been a well endowed barmaid in Stanley, Falkland Islands.

[chris]

Not to mention that getting a permit is probably impossible, and the regulations require you to pack out your own urine.

Actually, there are no permits. None. And the rules about packing out trash and waste are self-imposed by the companies that offer antarctic trips (its a great rule, in my opinion, but it does up the cost).

 

Check out Adventure Networks International. http://www.adventure-network.com/

[cj001f]

Looks like fun. You sailed out of Ushuaia - get to check out the Beagle Channel heading west?

 

And the rules about packing out trash and waste are self-imposed by the companies

 

The Antarctic Treaty covers waste production, as do US laws.

[G-spotter]

Cape Renard Tower E Summit (Una’s Tits) New Route East Buttress

 

(Unazwhat, V, 5.9, mixed, A2) (4 Feb)

 

Jia Condon, Rich Prohaska

 

AAJ72 (Article, photos)

 

Whistler climbers representing on the bottom of the world

[Norman_Clyde]

I'm on duty in Ilwaco and can't post photos now but I'll start a narrative.

 

Nov. 8 leave SeaTac 0730 to St. Louis then to Miami, arrive 1730 local time. 2100 local time leave Miami for Buenos Aires, arrive Nov. 9, 0600 local time. LAN Argentina offers complimentary Chilean red wine on all flights. Taxi from Ministro Pistarini International Airport to Plaza St. Martin, a 40 minute cab ride, costs 59 pesos or less than 20 bucks for the three of us. (My companions on this trip were my son Sawyer and his grandfather/my father-in-law.) Find a coffee shop with leather armchairs, Sawyer falls asleep, granddad stays with him, I explore the city on foot for an hour or so. Sun very high in the northern sky, jacaranda trees in blossom. Exchange rate very favorable. Find a mountaineering shop, buy some nylon trousers perfect for Zodiac landings, half the US cost. Taxi back to airport, plane to Ushuaia at 1630. From above, Eastern Argentina is pancake flat; as you approach Tierra del Fuego, the mountains gradually appear in the west, the eastern plains narrow and disappear. Peaks very steep, not that high but heavily glaciated. Look a little like the Cascades, or sometimes with tilted strata like the Canadian Rockies. Many, many first ski descents waiting. Deep glacial fjords. Arrive in Ushuaia 2130; sky is not yet dark.

 

Spend a day and a half in Ushuaia, latitude 54 degrees 47 minutes south. A buzzing little tourist and port town on Beagle Channel, the southernmost city in the world. If I'd ever been to coastal Alaska it would probably remind me of that; but it is not like any other place I've been. Latin and European influences melded and set down in an alpine/subpolar geographic setting. Climate is shifty, cool, maritime. The mountains pretty much start at the water. Timberline about 1000 feet, snowy peaks within walking distance. On a morning run down a dirt road I encounter a mare and colt walking free, two snarling dogs blocking further passage, and am dive-bombed by two beautiful gray ground-nesting birds, species unknown, presumably because I ventured too close to their nest. No more time to explore as I must organize the chaos of the infirmary on board the Orlova. On board personnel divided into Russian crew and Euro/Aussie expedition staff. Friendly Russian crew doctor on board reeks of alcohol at noon, falls out of his chair completely drunk at 3 pm. Expedition staff an able and adventure-ready bunch, mainly Aussies and Brits. Kara, expedition leader, is an American from Alaska with Australian parents, speaks American accented English with the occasional Aussie "Yih" for "Yeah."

 

Embark at 1800 on Nov. 11. Near midnight enter Drake Passage, swells smaller than usual at ten feet. Next morning feel all right at breakfast, then not so well, then puke, then feel fine again. Decide to take a seasickness pill after all. Well enough at midday to try lunch. In afternoon, try to read fine print on medication vials as the ship rolls 20 degrees each way; puke again. Give up on getting any work done. Watch albatrosses and petrels cruise the wake. Lay low in my cabin while ship rolls. Skip dinner.

 

Awake on Nov. 13 to 45 knot winds, 20 foot swells, ship's pitches and rolls doubled in amplitude. Prepare packets of seasick pills from my bed. Passengers begin calling my cabin requesting meds. Make quick rounds delivering pills; during cabin visits,have to duck into passenger's toilet to puke only once. Unable to hide in my own cabin while seasick, I quidkly establish a reputation as the sickest person on board. Skip breakfast and lunch.

Around 3 PM first iceberg is sighted, a big tabular. First land also visible, the South Shetlands. All land except for the tiniest islands and the steeper peaks is ice covered. Most dramatic landfall I can recall. Enter the lee of the South Shetlands; swells and seasickness both vanish. First zodiac landing at Aitcho Island. A great nervous excitement to be so close to the Antarctic sea, about to step onto such a new place. On shore find basaltic columns, just like home. Watch penguins drink seawater(really), see a Skua fly by with penguin's egg in beak. Back on board, eat first meal in 24 hours.

 

Nov. 14 cross Bransfield Strait 60 miles to Antarctic mainland. Swells 15 feet or so but I maintain equilibrium. Too windy to land at Paulet Island or Brown Bluff. Topography still basaltic, red, familiar looking, except that huge glaciers cover all but the smallest or steepest land forms. Sail to Esperanza Station, Argentine base at very tip of Antarctic Peninsula. Meet base residents, including doctor; tour clinic. Touch Antarctic seawater on shore, with floating chunks of ice in it; confirm that all that water is in near thermodyamic equilibrium with ice. Mountain above the station known as Mount Flora, because of the fossil flora found in its strata, identical to that found in S. America and S. Africa, supporting theory of continental drift. Peak is dusted with snow, surrounded by glaciers, but looks like a Southwest USA desert butte. Argentine families live on base, including kids under 10 years old, including in winter. Base's primary purpose is to maintain Argentine territorial claim. Base residents had just been told their departure date of Dec. 10 has been moved back to Dec. 28 and are bummed they will be spending Navidad on base. Invite the kids to visit the Orlova where they happily guzzle usually unavailable Coca-Cola.

 

Nov. 15 sail to Deception Island, a nearly singular landform, like something out of Jules Verne. A high-walled volcanic caldera, with one small gap in the ring allowing the sea to enter. The gap is so small that the first several explorers of the island did not discover it, yet is wide and deep enough to admit larger ships. We sail through it into the natural harbor. A heavy wet snow is falling hard. I stand on deck talking with Robert, expedition artist, as we approach Whaler's Bay, once the site of a whaling station, abandoned after a volcanic eruption destroyed most buildings in the 1960s. "We're awful close to shore," he remarks. "Yeah," I answer, "but I'm sure they've got a good chart on the bridge and the captain is probably-" a sudden jolt throws me against the forward rail. The ship lists ten degrees to port and stays there. Engines roar into full reverse. The ship stays put. Robert and I look at each other. "We're aground!" I say. "We're in trouble," he says.

 

More later.

Edited December 2, 2006 by Norman_Clyde

[DirtyHarry]

Great travelouge Norman. Good to hear I'm not only one who falls out of his chair at 3 pm completely drunk.

[mountainmatt]

I guess you are not supposed to get sick or injured after 3 PM then?

[plexus]

Like how you leave us on a cliffhanging ending.

[skykilo]

Great travelouge Norman. Good to hear I'm not only one who falls out of his chair at 3 pm completely drunk.

 

:brew:

[AllYouCanEat]

That's awesome. What a cliffhanger ending. It sure would be cool to ski down there!!! I'd be all over that.

[ken4ord]

Damn man sounds like one hell of an adventure. I look forward to seeing pictures. I am jealous, maybe some day I'll get to do something like that, though I will pass on the seasickness.

[pup_on_the_mountain]

Schweeet!! Keep it coming

[Norman_Clyde]

Continuing:

We were aground, but at least we hadn't hit with a hard blow. The island appeared to be made of pumice gravel like St. Helens. Probably we had struck a bar and had suffered no damage. Still, we were stuck fast.

 

I went below where I found Kara reassuring the passengers that the captain might have grounded us on purpose. She had seen it done before in this same spot, or at least had seen a ship aground that refused assistance. Sounded like good news. Maybe the engines had been on full ahead, not reverse! You never know. I speculated as much to a passenger who had been on the bridge at the time (this ship has an open bridge policy where passengers are usually allowed there).

"I don't think it was on purpose," he said.

"Did you perceive an attitude of surprise?"

"Oh yeah."

"Did he put the engines in reverse?"

"Well, he pulled both handles straight back...sure looked like reverse to me." Oh.

 

Except for being unable to move, the ship was functioning normally. We planned a Zodiac landing for that afternoon. At lunch we tried to make light conversation over the roar of the engines, which continued in full reverse, apparently in hope of stirring up current which would wash away sand at the bow and free the ship. It didn't work. The tide was at peak high when we struck, and was now falling. The crew labored at the bow all day, in vain.

 

There was not much to do except wait, and continue with previously planned activities. We explored the abandoned whaling station on shore, ate dinner, went to bed wondering what the morning would bring. The next high tide was at 0400. I figured the time to really worry was if I woke in the morning to find us still stuck.

 

Nov. 16: Awoke to find us under way again. The captain finally faced reality and called for a rescue in the wee hours. He heard back from a Spanish naval vessel, the Las Palmas, which was in the area to resupply a Spanish Antarctic base. After a lot of pulling and one broken chain, they got us off. (According to maritime law the Las Palmas could have demanded a portion of the Orlova's value, to the tune of five million dollars, for salvaging us-- a sum which they graciously declined.)

 

One portion of the Deception caldera has steam vents at the shore which heat the seawater and allow people to swim in Antarctic waters. We went here next. I helped my son to swim and chose not to go in myself. Now I wish I had done it. Maybe next year.

 

Nov. 16, afternoon: Half Moon Island, my favorite of all the places we visited. Sharp vertically uplifted strata encrusted with bright lichens. All rocks are heavily populated with nests and totally off limits for climbing. Penguins, Antarctic terns, Skuas, gulls. Peaks and glaciers on all horizons. Down here even small landforms generate huge ice masses. I haven't been to coastal Alaska but I imagine the glaciology is similar. Unlike the rest of the continent, the Antarctic Peninsula is far enough north to be a maritime environment with significant annual precipitation. The number of stunning mountain vistas was truly overwhelming. I couldn't decide what to photograph, and now that I'm home it feels as if I hardly photographed any. It was easier to photograph the nearest penguin and as a result, I have way too many penguin photos. Inevitable, perhaps.

 

Nov. 17: Cuverville Island in Gerlache Strait. Watched a Leopard Seal eat a penguin, thrashing the limp body back and forth for about ten minutes before it slipped under. Other penguins squirted and porpoised through the sea nearby, apparently oblivious. Took a Zodiac tour amongst ice forms. Neko Harbor, second Mainland landing, in the afternoon. Hiked to 300 feet elevation, highest of the trip. One can only imagine the view from higher.

 

Nov. 18: Cruised through Lemaire Channel. Landed at Petermann Island, furthest south of the trip at 65 degrees 10 minutes southern latidude. Not a breath of wind. Spent the morning in flannel shirt, no gloves. (Temperatures were most commonly just below freezing, usually accompanied by a stiff breeze.) Petermann is site of a small American research project, three lucky scientists summering there in tents. One had a tele setup which she used to cruise the island. She had made some nice turns down the biggest (hundred foot) slope. In the afternoon we sailed on to Port Lockroy and Jougla Point, last landing before return. Bought a few things at Port Lockroy, only retail facility in Antarctica, staffed by three Brits who presumably do research as well. On Jougla Point I filled in for absent staff requiring me to stand still in one spot for 2 hours in a 40 knot wind, keeping track of passengers. This was the only time all week that I felt cold. Heard people exclaim on the radio as a Leopard Seal bit holes in four boats. Just to the west of Jougla Point was a massif called Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, a vertical sawtooth formation festooned with enormous dollops of ice on each summit, one of the most dramatic peaks of the whole trip. My son must have had the camera because I have no photo.

 

Nov. 19, 20: Drake Passage again. I had my sea legs on the return and managed to eat heartily as the ship bucked and tossed. Back to Ushuaia, Buenos Aires, Miami, home in time for Thanksgiving. Still looking at Antarctic photos every day.

 

Visiting Antarctica is profound and unforgettable. The mountains are just one part of an amazingly intact environment. However, the average visitor cannot engage the landscape in the manner of the usual Cascades mountaineer: be mentally prepared to look, don't touch. Take photos of everything. I took about 500 and still I'm kicking myself for the things I missed. I plan to return.

[AlpineK]

Nice story. It looks like a fantastic place!