And here's today's report from the not-quite Ancient Mariner (who did in fact see several albatrosses today, and shot none.) We're in the middle of the Scotia Sea, and won't get to South Georgia until late Wednesday, so water was really the only thing to photograph today. (Though if you look in the middle of the picture on the left you can see a giant petrel following in the ship's wake and enjoying all the fish and nutrients our engines churn up to the surface. I'll try to get an albatross tomorrow.)
And of course a sunset, because I like sunsets. The sun isn't setting particularly late here, where it's after all early summer, but you can tell how far south we are by its stubborn reluctance to disappear. It sinks slowly, and the red skies linger for hours.
We had our mandatory briefing on the rules for visiting Antarctica and got our boots fitted, and otherwise I read, wrote, ate, and talked to some fellow passengers. The seas aren't so rough that you really notice when you're sitting down (we won't cross the Drake Passage until the end of the trip) but when you stand up and try to walk it's a shock every time. Why is the floor moving?
And of course a sunset, because I like sunsets. The sun isn't setting particularly late here, where it's after all early summer, but you can tell how far south we are by its stubborn reluctance to disappear. It sinks slowly, and the red skies linger for hours.
We had our mandatory briefing on the rules for visiting Antarctica and got our boots fitted, and otherwise I read, wrote, ate, and talked to some fellow passengers. The seas aren't so rough that you really notice when you're sitting down (we won't cross the Drake Passage until the end of the trip) but when you stand up and try to walk it's a shock every time. Why is the floor moving?
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