Greetings!
Knowing where to start sharing about an Antarctic experience is a daunting task. The sights are incredibly unique. The sounds are remarkably peculiar. And the feelings are extraordinarily overwhelming. You realize there is only so much you'll effectively be able to convey. Merely scratching the surface. So let's just begin with the obvious. Those unique, peculiar, overwhelming icebergs themselves.
The ship's challenge was on. The passenger to spot the first iceberg would win a prize of "immeasurable value". If I had known it was a bottle of wine I would have slept with my binoculars. But soon enough, there by its lonesome on the horizon was our holy grail. Just as you would expect it. Isolated. Icy white. Half dome-ish. And the expectation ended right there.
It wasn't long before the amount and size of the floating ice around us noticeably increased. A tell-tale sign that our massive frozen friends were lurking ahead.
The distance began exposing chiseled, shadowy shapes that looked much more like futuristic cities than clusters of monolithic ice. Interesting. Sculptural. Carefully carved. One after the other they paraded by. From bobbing stages for fur seals to tabular ice walls over 300 feet high. I had Aleve on high alert as my neck got a workout from fixing my gaze on an oncoming mass until passed, then abruptly swooshing my head back to the next in line. There's even a Super-berg out there (which we didn't see) measuring a staggering 4,500 square miles. It was absolutely bizarre to be sitting at a window seat during dinner only to watch icebergs silently glide by. Bizarre to the Nth degree was sitting at a window seat during dinner only to watch icebergs silently glide by and getting used to it. Kinda mind blowing.
These spectacles were only enhanced by the calving (an iceberg's or glacier's shedding of a smaller mass of ice) echoes bouncing off the ice walls of the surrounding channels. That low rumbling and cracking silenced even the most rambunctious conversations. As did the avalanche that bounded down a sheer slope in a dense, blizzardy cloud while out on the water.
So although this voyage went only as far as the Antarctic peninsula, even the smallest taste of this vast continent was indelibly impressive.
Until the next polar experience...
Stay tuned for the next episode of the Antarctic adventure or jump on the RobinGoesTo journey now at RobinGoesTo.com. Need a little nudge to make a change in the new year? Listen in on my discussion of risk-taking, shaking things up, and not waiting for the “perfect” time in the compelling Le vital corps Salon podcast!