Crossing the river, Fortuna Bay, South Georgia
Today is a celebration. A day to share the joy, the sense of accomplishment, the attainment of a personal goal for twelve of our friends and family. Crossing a river in Fortuna Bay was the beginning of the last leg of their trek, an expedition which took them from King Haakon Bay, across the spine of South Georgia to the ruins of Stromness Bay. Many of us joined them marching up that final ridge, through one more mountain pass and sliding gleefully down a snowfield to reach the finish line. They’re back! They’re safe! They’re happy and so are we!
There were many rivers and streams to ford this day, some in rubber boots and some in our imaginations. Water pours from cliffs high above in cascades cold and bubbling and rushes across the cobbled shore to meld with the ocean’s waves. Or it might trickle stealthily from the toe of a receding glacier and meander in braided routes across broad outwash plains. Bermed beaches slow the flow creating pools and puddles where elephant seals cool blubbery bodies and fur seal pups frolic. Like us, the king penguins choose to wade.
When we awoke to the sound of engines starting, the sky was clear and the seas were flat but it didn’t take long for sharp and jagged peaks to snag the clouds and wrap them about, tucking them into the valleys and smoothing them over lower rounded mounds. They were filmy foggy drapes that came and went as our Zodiacs slowly slipped along the shoreline of Hercules Harbor. Sedimentary layers, once horizontal, were folded and twisted and overturned, an abstract scene mirrored by fluted floating bergs. Kelp ribbons swirled with the surge continuing the layered theme. A waterfall tumbled from high above, its fall broken momentarily before it plunged a final time, its music mingling with the sounds of the wildlife all around. Tucked within the tussock grass hugging the steps and ledges, heads with cheddar colored plumes could be spotted. Macaroni penguins, chunky handsome chaps, squirted from the water, then stopped to preen and model for our cameras.
Fortuna Bay was the watershed today where trekkers met their families and were introduced to the wildlife with which we have become so familiar. King penguins strutted from their colony tucked into the embrace of a glacier. Elephant seals napped and occasionally squabbled. Fur seals feigned ferocity.
And then it was on to the final stop, the ruins of the whaling station in Stromness Harbour. Here ferociousness was no bluff for fur seal bulls were establishing territory and each foot of beach was claimed. Tentatively we wove our way through the battle zone to view the land behind. Ponds dotted the green rush covered ground tucked in the valley beyond. On ridges with views to the sea gentoo penguins sat tight on nests protecting precious eggs from marauding skuas. Caribou herds dashed across the ridges and down to the valley below where the river rushed, milky grey with silt, each floury grain a step in moving the mountains to the sea.
Today is a celebration. A day to share the joy, the sense of accomplishment, the attainment of a personal goal for twelve of our friends and family. Crossing a river in Fortuna Bay was the beginning of the last leg of their trek, an expedition which took them from King Haakon Bay, across the spine of South Georgia to the ruins of Stromness Bay. Many of us joined them marching up that final ridge, through one more mountain pass and sliding gleefully down a snowfield to reach the finish line. They’re back! They’re safe! They’re happy and so are we!
There were many rivers and streams to ford this day, some in rubber boots and some in our imaginations. Water pours from cliffs high above in cascades cold and bubbling and rushes across the cobbled shore to meld with the ocean’s waves. Or it might trickle stealthily from the toe of a receding glacier and meander in braided routes across broad outwash plains. Bermed beaches slow the flow creating pools and puddles where elephant seals cool blubbery bodies and fur seal pups frolic. Like us, the king penguins choose to wade.
When we awoke to the sound of engines starting, the sky was clear and the seas were flat but it didn’t take long for sharp and jagged peaks to snag the clouds and wrap them about, tucking them into the valleys and smoothing them over lower rounded mounds. They were filmy foggy drapes that came and went as our Zodiacs slowly slipped along the shoreline of Hercules Harbor. Sedimentary layers, once horizontal, were folded and twisted and overturned, an abstract scene mirrored by fluted floating bergs. Kelp ribbons swirled with the surge continuing the layered theme. A waterfall tumbled from high above, its fall broken momentarily before it plunged a final time, its music mingling with the sounds of the wildlife all around. Tucked within the tussock grass hugging the steps and ledges, heads with cheddar colored plumes could be spotted. Macaroni penguins, chunky handsome chaps, squirted from the water, then stopped to preen and model for our cameras.
Fortuna Bay was the watershed today where trekkers met their families and were introduced to the wildlife with which we have become so familiar. King penguins strutted from their colony tucked into the embrace of a glacier. Elephant seals napped and occasionally squabbled. Fur seals feigned ferocity.
And then it was on to the final stop, the ruins of the whaling station in Stromness Harbour. Here ferociousness was no bluff for fur seal bulls were establishing territory and each foot of beach was claimed. Tentatively we wove our way through the battle zone to view the land behind. Ponds dotted the green rush covered ground tucked in the valley beyond. On ridges with views to the sea gentoo penguins sat tight on nests protecting precious eggs from marauding skuas. Caribou herds dashed across the ridges and down to the valley below where the river rushed, milky grey with silt, each floury grain a step in moving the mountains to the sea.
