From dream to exploration
"I've found time to sail again. Like many yachtsmen, I devoured tales of extreme cruising, but the crazy idea of sailing to Antarctica myself had never crossed my mind... not yet! In fact, I caught the bug in two stages. First of all, I was lucky enough to acquire Jimmy Cornell'sExploration 45 (Garcia shipyard): a super-equipped aluminium sailboat of his own design, with which this outstanding navigator sailed the Northwest Passage.
A boat with no limits, that gives you ideas! I tamed BalthazaR during 2 North European sailings, as far as the Arctic Circle. Am I already contaminated? I need to know for sure.
I then set sail for Ushuaia on Éric Dupuis's sailboat Vaihéré, certainly one of the best for exploring the white continent. The magic happens! As the Antarctic coast fades away, I'm already planning my return.
An ambitious project
Preparing BalthazaR during the Covid confinement and then bringing her to Tierra del Fuego via the 40th and 50th will take some time! In mid-January we finally left Ushuaia after 8 days of waiting for a suitable weather window. We're 4 friends on board (Raphaël, Pierrick, Jan and Ryan); all experienced, each competent in complementary fields, a solid team which makes me feel serene, even if my role is to remain permanently on the alert, attentive to everything.
Drake Passage: a mythical crossing
Short stopover in Puerto Toro (36 inhabitants), the world's southernmost city. It takes us ½ day to round Cape Horn, on the edge of the Wollaston archipelago, which glistens in the sun. Now we're off, further south, for a 4-day crossing of the notorious Drake Passage. We'll be heading straight for the Melchior Archipelago under 2 reefs, alternating between solent, staysail and... engine; after all, there's no question of hanging around waiting for the next storm.
The approach to Antarctica
At 61°South, the cape's checkerboards mingle with the albatrosses, giant petrels and storm-petrels that have accompanied us since the start; they herald the Antarctic convergence zone; temperatures plummet, fog settles in.
A hundred miles from the goal, the radar signals the first iceberg; we walk along it in the mist, magnificent and threatening.
The "icicles" that break off are not detected by radar, and are only seen at the last moment in the fog. The risk is extreme, as a modest metres ice cube weighs over 500T: the battle is unequal with the 18T of BalthazaR. The active daytime watch is doubled during the few hours of darkness.
Melchior anchorage: an icy sanctuary
As we approach Melchior, the sun takes over again; we marvel at passing between numerous icebergs, from pure white to sky blue. Thefirst humpback whales greet us: they move gently along the surface in a school of krill, a group of penguins circling around them. Terns, gulls and cormorants make their appearance.
The anchorage in the heart of the Melchior archipelago, between the Êta and Omega islands, is one of the safest on the Peninsula, but the digital charts are inaccurate (more than 400m difference from reality). On the screen, our route merrily climbs the hills of the islands; after checking, our route fortunately merges with the tracks passed on to me by some of my predecessors. We're on the right track!
Sailing in Antarctica: extreme precision
One lesson: you can't navigate here in poor visibility and without these famous tracks. It's also essential to have the handwritten sketches that give the necessary indications for entering the anchorages and mooring there.
That's it, I'm back in Antarctica! In a few seconds, all the things I've had to do over the last 4 years to get back there flash through my mind; then this brief flashback suddenly disappears, as if to tell me that I now had to make the most of my 100% experience. Return to White Paradise.
Three weeks of total immersion
For my companions, it's a total discovery, a dream world opening up to them. We're going to spend three fabulous weeks here, alternating between fine weather and gloomy days; most of the time we'll be motoring for lack of wind, or staying at anchor, blocked by the storm.
The scenery is extraordinary, high mountains invaded by the sea; there are magnificent massive mountains like Mont Français (2865 m on the island of Antwerp), but also steep ranges like those framing the Lemaire Channel. Countless crevassed glaciers tumble down from the high mountains and calve into the ocean. Ice-covered plains are sometimes dyed red, yellow or green by microalgae. There are also small, low-lying granitic archipelagos in the middle of which you can sneak off to a safe anchorage (Pléneau, Argentinian Islands, etc.).
There are no beacons, no lighthouses and no landmarks. And everywhere, huge or modest icebergs of improbable shapes float or run aground with the current.
Curious wildlife everywhere
If the flora is limited, the fauna is omnipresent. They have no fear of us, and curiosity often leads them to come and observe us up close and personal!
We'll see whales on each of our trips out to sea, with the boat stopped not far from them, and we'll spend a long time watching them... often in groups of 2 or 3, they quietly continue their activities, sometimes sounding with superb tail movements.
The more ingenuous ones come to rub up against the hull- do they think we're one of them? When the group is larger, we're often lucky enough to see one or two of them perform incredible jumps, with more than half their body out of the water.
On land, we visit the penguin colonies (Papuan, Chinstrap, Adélie), where the young of the year are still in the nest (usually 2 of them), one parent looking after them, the other fishing. Skuas (large skuas) circle around them to steal an egg or a chick. The white chionis pick up the garbage. We keep our distance from sea lions, leopards and elephant seals, which can be very aggressive. Seals (Weddell, crabeater, etc.) are more passive, and all these animals, clumsy on land, swim like rockets as soon as they're in the water.
Preserving Antarctica: between restrictions and adaptation
Cases of avian flu have been detected on Bird Island (South Georgia): strict rules are imposed on visitors to Antarctica, which means that we must observe bird behaviour before disembarking, rinse our boots and pants between each visit, and install a foot bath at the stern of the boat. The scientific bases have drawn conclusions that differ radically from one another: some no longer receive visitors, although they sometimes accept that we come and moor at their pontoon; others continue to welcome visitors (Spanish and Ukrainian bases). All of them, however, will do their utmost to help sailors in difficulty.
As a result, the British base at Port Lockroy, which is also a museum, is no longer accessible, but its representatives now come on board to continue mail service (it's the southernmost post office in the world; the next one is over 1,000 km to the north) and sell souvenirs.
Among these, we particularly appreciated the Shackleton whisky, distilled exactly as Sir Ernst liked it 120 years ago, and recently found in the hut built on Ross Island during his expedition to the South Pole (1907/09 on the 3-masted Nimrod)." ...
To be continued...
Our first few weeks in Antarctica were a total immersion in a world both wild and fragile. Every day has brought its share of discoveries, wonder and challenges. But the adventure is far from over...
In the next part of this story, we continue our exploration of the heart of the Antarctic Peninsula, encountering spectacular new landscapes and unparalleled experiences. We look forward to the continuation of this timeless adventure!
