03/18/2010, Grytviken
March 17th - Grytviken
It was a drizzly morning as I lay bundled up in my sleeping bag, hearing the gentle misty rain tapping on my tent. There was no urgency to pack and move quickly and so I listened to the sounds of South Georgia around me. There was a scuffle going on near by involving two teenage Fur Seals and from the feelings of thud thud thud on the ground beneath me, a rather large Elephant Seal must have landed from being out at sea.
Once I was up, having now a well established packing system, all gear was soon stowed and I was ready to don my drysuit and launch into the small breaking surf for the final time.
The calmness of this morning was a perfect addition to my mellow mood and once on the water, every stroke I focused on as it propelled me towards the completion of this journey. I tormented myself with the imaginings of rounding the point, just having successfully completed the entire circumnavigation. Disappointment flooded back like water released from a broken dam and it was then in attempt to pull myself together I went through all that I have observed and experienced on my kayak trek along this eastern coast of South Georgia. I reminded myself that despite these circumstances, the only difference really in having not been able to complete this expedition as I wanted, is purely my attitude towards it. And with that thought I directed my morning thoughts and focus towards feeling positive in all that has been accomplished.
My visit with Shackleton was key to the morning of 'moving forward'. I sat beside his Granite grave and said out-loud "Well mate, it wasn't quite what we expected eh?" "I reckon, the best thing about all this is that we are here and isn't it so bloody beautiful?" A few more words I shared with my silent listener then re-launched and made my way towards Northanger. I was relieved to have no fuss made on this arrival as I was deliberately left to arrive anonymously.
I joined the crew for freshly made bannock and a cup of steaming tea, then soon went about the morning rinsing and drying gear. I was grateful for the offer of a shower which, after a month you can only imagine how divine that felt. That evening we were kindly invited for a meal at the base. Friendly and familiar faces was a welcome aswell as the bottle of bubbly we drank in celebration of what was accomplished and what is still left to come from the post expedition plans and projects. It was Saint Patrick's day therefore it was encouraged that we joined the rest of the base staff for after dinner celebrations. I was happy to be completely immersed in the social simplicity of learning an Irish dance, and that we did until late in the evening.
Today - March 18th is a day for final packing, a day of farewells and bon-voyages, a day to begin yet another leg in this incredible journey. I do feel ready for home. I have been away for nearly 2 months and by the time I set foot on my home turf it will be over 9 weeks. I have a presentation to prepare for the Prince Albert II as we sail to the Falklands, so already I will have the opportunity to begin piecing together my story.
I am not sure of the ships schedule, we may be fortunate to have a full day in South Georgia before departing for the Falklands. I am assuming Beth-Anne and I will be able to take part in the landings planned and make the most of more filming opportunities. Ahh how weird and wonderful it will be to be on a ship without having any responsibility.
I will keep the tracker on so please feel free to follow our progress and I will continue with the blog updates (thanks to Dean back home). Hopefully we will be able to post a few photos as well, to keep things lively and interesting. Dean has been able to send a few comments people have posted on my blog. I really look forward to finally getting on the internet and be able to read them all. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and comments. I will treasure and I appreciate every word.
Cheers and thanks to you all
Hayley
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03/16/2010, Cumberland East Bay
March 16th, Day 17
Cumberland East Bay
My final night under canvas is only just around the corner from King Edward Point and the abandoned whaling station of Grytviken. Strong N, NW winds are forecasted therefore I didn't want to find myself too far away where wind could prevent me from getting in to my final destination. The ship will wait for no-one.
It was an early start and a beautiful one, with a sunrise broadened along glassy seas within the sheltered arms of Ocean Harbor. I was on the water by 6.30am and was eager to begin this final stretch of open seas and an exposed coast I was curious whether or not the swell had diminished, however there were plenty of tell-tales informing me that it had not as whitewater pummeled the reefs and rocks that lined the entrance to the bay.
My intended day of reflection vanished immediately as I exited the harbor. Mountains of sea lifted me high on the crest of each wave and once in the trough the horizon and sight of any land vanished like magic. My kayak was shoved this way and that as the waves rebounded off the coastline like a rebellious child, creating seas of confusion. It was an uncomfortable ride and for the next 4 hours I would not be taking my hands off my paddle nor would I stop paddling. Every stroke was not only propelling me forward, each stroke was also a support stroke, keeping me steady and at times upright.
I was tense, my kayak felt less stable than usual, perhaps it was 'last days' nerves I was feeling. I started to imagine something terrible happening on the last leg, the last stretch of my paddling experience in South Georgia having survived so far South Georgia's school of hard knocks and harsh lessons. I had to concentrate and watch every wave, every motion as the seas moved towards me, under me and around me. At times I traveled nearly 2 miles off shore and selected the outer route around offshore islands and islets, avoiding the white water chaos and carnage of the inner routes. It made for more miles but safer ones although it was rather unnerving being so far away from land in such big seas.
Black Browed Albatross made use of the up-draft currents from this ocean swell therefore kept me company for most of the journey. Not wanting to take my hands off the paddle I drank little and ate none and so my body started to feel the lack of fuel . As the morning progressed South Georgia displayed it's hidden treasures as the clouds dispersed and the jagged Mountain peaks and ridges showed themselves. I was relieved to enter into Cumberland East Bay, familiar surroundings and only then did the seas mellow in size. As soon as I was able I stopped and gulped down water and hungrily ate my Cliff bars. Instant fuel offering me energy to fulfill the final hour of paddling. At the east of the bay I found a nook where the surf was less and landed on a steep rocky beach. Elephant seals and Fur seals claimed there piece of beach and I searched hard for a place to put my tent. With this narrow, steep beach there was no room for my tent and beyond that was tussock mounds crowned by the occasional Fur seal and puddles of muck. And so between the Fur seals and puddles of muck I now call home, for this night anyway.
I made the most of afternoon light and took a hike up the backside of where I am camped. It led me to a rise which overlooked Grytviken, KEP and the entrance to Cumberland bay. All around me the mountains hovered like protective parents and the two icebergs that drifted in the bay were lit by the suns rays. The rhythm of the surf soothed me from way up here, and it was this spot where I chose to write in my journal and go over in my mind the previous 16 days I have spent intimately on and beside the shores of South Georgia.
I recall a moment as I paddled this morning, I noticed my reflection in the water-proof housing of my camera. I could see, like a mirror my face reflected in it. I was wearing the Necky cap and poking out from each side were my straggly braids giving me a Pippy Longstocking appearance. "That's me", I said out-loud to myself. "That's me paddling alone in South Georgia!". I am doing exactly what I had envisioned for all those years. I dreamed about this, then planned how I was going to make this happen and after 3 and half years of hard work, I finally set foot from shore and paddled away, alone in my kayak in an attempt to paddle around the entire Sub-Antarctic Island of South Georgia. I had played this entire scene in my mind so many times. Wondering how cold it will really be, how big will the seas become, how fast will the wind pick up while I am out on the water. Will my tent stand up to the furious winds I have seen with my own eyes and will I have the nerve to actually do it once I am there. So many questions and curiosities have been answered. I have been to the South Georgia school of hard knocks and harsh lessons and I did good . I did not complete what I had set out to complete and yes this in itself does bring a strong feeling of disappointment. Despite the fact that there were a number of reasons and circumstances beyond my control which influenced this outcome, I still struggle with trying to let go of the disappointment and unconditionally embrace all what has been accomplished. That I am sure will come with time. I am wise enough to know that I have not failed. How can one fail if they actually tried and gave it their best shot. Against all the odds, I tried. We tried. One could look at this as failure if I simply do not embrace the experiences I had, the treasures I discovered and the unfathomable beauty I witnessed. And this could be seen as failure simply by not having the mindfulness to actually learn from each set-back and obstacle that happened to be put in our path. The lessons were limitless, the unexpected side-line adventures took us where we all needed to go for reasons that only time will tell.
When I recall the historical accounts of past explorers and adventurers there is a commonality with each story. Their expeditions never panned out the way those involved anticipated, which made for a fabulous story. Sure we did not suffer 2 years living on the ice and making small boat journey's across the Southern Ocean in the middle of winter, however we too have a story to tell.
Tomorrow morning when I turn the corner beyond King Edward Point, I will keep the land close to my port (left) side. I will land on a small beach, giving the local Fur seals and Elephant seals their space and meander up to a small graveside I know well. I will stand before Sir Ernest Shackleton's grave and take a moment to reflect on the reason why we are both right here. Sure, one of us is a few feet under the ground and the other, well I'd say they are pretty happy to still be alive and kickin. We are here simply because we dream and we live those dreams despite how impossible they seem at times. We follow our truest of hearts and in doing we have had the privilege and the honor to relish in the awe-inspiring beauty of South Georgia and be touched by the mesmerizing sights and scenes one can only witness here. I am so grateful.
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03/15/2010, Ocean Harbour
March 15th, day 16 Ocean Harbour
S54 20.398 and W36 15.872
I woke and rose early, keen to get under way knowing we had 50 nautical miles to cover to get to our destination. Once underway it was clear to me that we were up for a rough ride as the swell from the strong but brief storm caused the seas to be steep and lumpy.
The movement took some of us by surprise. Beth-Anne headed straight to her bunk and I laid low and offered to do a watch knowing the fresh air would help. For most of the day South Georgia remained hidden amongst dense and rain saturated clouds. Icebergs had been blown towards to coast so there were a few obstacles to keep a keen eye out for.
Towards the end of the day I enjoyed seeing the coast line I would paddle tomorrow from a distance. Cobblers Cove, Godthul and Ocean Harbour came into view and the outer coastline was a wash of white water from the waves that crashed then disintegrated.
Once anchored in the protective bay of Ocean Harbour I immediately launched my kayak eager to be on my way and establish a camp site before dark. Once on the water I decided to paddle about abit, no specific destination in mind, really just keen to take a looksey around the area.
A still standing, whaling ship wreck was made home by a number of nesting cormorants, fur seals dominated most of the sounds and scenes of the bay however I saw the largest Elephant Seals so far on my voyage. One surfaced fairly close to where I was obliviously drifting, it looked like a submarine as its 4 tonne blubbery body suddenly appeared at my bow. It immediately showed me whose boss as he inflated his sexy trunk, which was then followed by the guttural sound of its not so sexy grunt.
It was just after 5.00pm and the light was getting dimmer and so I found a patch of beach and pitched my perfectly dry tent in the rain.
As I sit here now perched on my camping mat, my sleeping bag wrapped around my shoulders and writing this blog entry by torch light, it is as usual the Fur seal calls that dominate my night-time entertainment. Although I think a few more Ellies have since landed therefore those guttural, burp-like sounds will be what I will try and fall asleep to.
Ahh it is divine to be back in my cosy, safe tent and for a change there is not a breath of wind. I do have a good weather window tomorrow morning, so I will be up at first light to paddle the 15 nm to Cumberland Sound. The following day a strong NW system is building therefore I do need to be within a short paddle distance from King Edward Point for the morning of March 17th but I will be camping tomorrow night, just close by.
Tomorrow will be a day of reflection as I paddle for the last time along the scenic shores of South Georgia and by evening my mind will be filled with, expressions, thoughts and feelings as I try to sum-up what this journey has meant to me. I am pretty certain I won't sleep tomorrow night, in my attempt to make my final night alone, camping on the shores of South Georgia, last the longest time.
Good night to you all and pleasant and peaceful dreams
Hayley
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03/14/2010, Prince Olav Harbor
Update - March 14th, Day 15, Prince Olav Harbor
Wow, to know of a storm approaching and watch the weather simmer then suddenly witness with our very eyes the storms arrival. It slapped us and the surrounding area hard. The boat had a rocking motion as though we were at sea and the waves crashing on the shore could be heard from within the soundproof salon. And then by late afternoon, as though it was only a dream, all was calm, the storm had dissipated only hours after it's arrival. How absolutely fascinating.
It was a day to get gear sorted. Wanting to paddle and camp as much as possible during my last few days here in South Georgia, I used this day to pack my other gear and dry my expedition equipment. A dry sleeping bag and tent for my last two nights camping on the shores of South Georgia will be a luxury.
Tomorrow, with a tail wind we will head out and travel south, hopefully reaching Ocean Harbor by 4.00pm in the afternoon. Ocean Harbor, Godthul and Cobblers Cove are three landings I would like to approach and two I will be camping at leading my way back North to King Edward Point in Cumberland Sound. I intend to meet up with the Northanger who will be anchored near Grytviken on the evening of the 17th in preparation for the arrival of the Prince Albert II the following day. Beth-Anne and I will be soon whisked away by ship while Magnus, Brian and Keri prepare for their own open ocean crossing, leaving the next day bound for Stanley.
Here in the protective bay of Prince Olav Harbor, it was a calm and placid evening as the skies cleared. A gorgeous sunset complimented the glassy seas which had the residue of the past storm as the swell undulated gently beneath our hull.
By tomorrow I will more than ready to get back in my kayak, alone once again to completely saturate myself in all of South Georgia's glory for my last three days remaining. Ahh just the thought of saying goodbye brings tears to my eyes and a tug at my heart. It is during this expedition that I have only just begun to realize just what this island means to be and what it does to me. I've known it since our first meeting 11 years ago, but as I write this, and as I playback my 14 days of aloneness where I've journeyed beside the shores of the island I can't begin to fathom actually pulling away from this isolated, rugged, mountainous island and say goodbye to a place whose treasures will remain a mystery to me.
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03/13/2010
Gabcast! HAYLEYS AUDIO BLOGS #23
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03/13/2010
March 13th Day 14 Running South to lash down in a protective bay
My alarm woke me just before light at 4.45am. By the time I was packed, gear stowed in my hatches and launching onto a calm sea, the early morning light gave evidence of the perfect day of paddling that awaited.
As I adjusted my seat and paddled a few strokes I noticed that my body was feeling strong and had finally adjusted to the load I was carrying. For the first time since setting out, I paddled in gentle rhythm to the rolling swell and the glassy mirrored seas made things feel all the more graceful.
In less than an hour I had reached the entrance to Right Whale Bay where the Northanger was at anchor. I tried too reach them on my handheld VHF radio and got through immediately. I hadn't received a weather text from them so I was eager to see if the winds were going to remain from the SW at a mere 10-15knots. So far it looked that way and I was thrilled to have a chance at least in reaching Elsehul or even going a tad further and slightly rounding the North Coast before having to turn back to go south.
The news was not good. Keri was nervous about the huge storm which is soon to be approaching our coast. Winds from the E, NE are expected to pick up in the early wee hours of tomorrow morning and potentially rise to 50 knots. She informed me that Eleshul would not be a wise anchorage to wait out the storm therefore we need to make our way back south to Prince Olav immediately. I was gutted. This was one of the very rare wind-free, glassy calm, perfect paddling days and I have to abort my northerly journey. Although I was so disappointed, I understood the reasons and accepted them, however before rendezvousing with them, I sat quietly in my kayak, drifting with the current, rising and falling with the swell. The odd Gentoo penguin came close and circumnavigated me, curious of my presence and a Black Browed Albatross glided silently above. I looked out longingly to the North and wondered what was beyond Nameless Point and Elsehul, what awaits my curious mind and
adventurous heart. I will find out not this day.
And then I had a fabulous idea!
Since we would be passing the Bay of Isles, I suggested we call King Edward Point and ask permission to land briefly on Prion Island since the weather has not co-operated with our previous attempts. Yay, we were granted permission therefore the day was salvaged, and what a delightful bonus it became.
Brian, Beth-Anne and I went ashore with cameras and binoculars in hands. Since this is visited by tourist ships and other yachts a very subtle boardwalk has been built which assists people keeping on the right trail, defines the areas they are allowed to walk and helps reduce erosion and keeps the wildlife at a distance. What a fabulous idea.
The first finger led us to a single adult sitting proudly on a nest. I sat mesmerized by it's pure white frame, curious how and where they put their 12 foot wings. There wings have 3 joints, therefore like origami, they fold, tuck and fold again. The second finger led us to a look-out which gave us a view of 7 other nesting sites with the backdrop of the entire Bay of Isles with Salisbury Plain in the distance. Our 2 hours ashore went quickly but in that time we watched a single Albatross walk awkwardly amongst the tussocks, going from nesting site to nesting site. At one stage it took a detour directly towards the boardwalk where Beth-Anne was standing. She encountered a close pass-by, and I caught it all on film, capturing Beth-Anne in absolute ecstasy.
We watched, we filmed and took in the mesmerizing beauty of South Georgia at its best. It literally took our breath away having the opportunity to land here, see these giant flying birds nestled so close to where we stood, imagining how many miles each of them had under their wings. I decided to do an audio broadcast from the highest point, to glance over the scene and share it with all those who are so faithfully following this journey.
We were soon due back to the boat and continued our way South to Prince Olav Harbor. Here we will lash down for the next two nights and for one of them I intend to camp. I might as well make the most of this opportunity and see if I can pitch my tent during a real gale and hope it holds for the night. By the morning of March 15th, we should have a weather window to then head south beyond Cumberland Sound. My wish is to be dropped off south and spend my last two days and nights camping and kayaking my way back to Grytviken where we will rendezvous with the Prince Albert II.
Stand by for storm updates
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