We had altogether an amazing day yesterday. Up at 3.30am to catch the first sighting of South Georgia, we anchored in the bay off Grytviken and kitted up in warm waterproof gear and rubber boots we were ferried ashore in groups of eight, landing on a shingle beach flanked by fur seals, held at bay by members of the expedition crew with long sticks. They can be quite aggressive during the breeding season, which this is, and can bite! The walk up to the graveyard was a mere fifty metres, and another expedition crew member was there with little tot glasses and a bottle of Seagrams whisky. We each took one, and took turns photographing each other taking a sip and pouring the rest over Shackleton's grave, as is apparently the custom. It was a small cemetery, with many graves of Norwegian whalers mostly, with a few other nationalities also. They were oriented east west, as usual, but Shackleton's was north south, with the head at the south end of the grave.

Then we had an excellent guided walk, taken by a young research student from St Andrews University, on placement for a year as part of his course in some ecologically related subject. He took us safely past fur and elephant seals, just lying about on the grass, and took us back in time to the start of sealing and whaling here. The site is covered with rusting iron equipment for boiling down blubber, meat and bones from the 54000 whales killed here over the years, from 1904 to 1965, when there were too few whales left in nearby waters to make it financially viable any more, so it was mothballed 'until the whales came back in sufficient numbers', but that has never happened. We have not seen any whales from the ship around the island.

There was a post office and shop, where we duly bought and sent some postcards, and I added to my Falkland Island coin collection when I got change! The museum was interesting, showing the logged track of the James Caird once it sighted South Georgia, an amazing piece of seamanship involving tacking and doubling back several times until they could tack into King Haakon Bay, one of the very few hospitable areas on the fierce south coast of this mountainous island. The museum also housed a replica of the James Caird, which showed that the boat had been totally covered in decking apart from a small rectangular space at the stern where probably only one person at a time could stand and helm.

The little church at Grytviken is a bit of an oddity, built from a kit imported from Norway by Hansen, the founder of the whaling operation, for the whalers. They turned out not to be very interested in attending church, and the pastor hired by Hansen gave up after a few years, and the whalers used it for storing supplies. One anecdote we heard was that when Shackleton died here and was laid out in the church, they had to move out sacks of potatoes first. Anyway, be that as it may, it is now 102 years old, and has been restored nicely, has a lending library in the vestry, and two very tuneful bells, which anybody can ring. As it was Sunday quite a lot of us stayed there for the half hour service conducted in German and English by a lady who turned out to be a lay preacher from Germany. She gave us a rousing blast of creationism from Genesis, and rounded off with the one hymn of the service. As that was the reason I went, I gave it laldy for all three verses.

Back to the ship, for lunch, and a chance to dump all the unnecessary clothing. It was 18degrees ashore. I decided after lunch to give the open air jacuzzi on the top deck a go, so up I went and climbed into this amazingly hot water, with the wind playing around the anchored ship. When I got too hot, all I had to do was climb out a little bit, then sink back into the warm water. Two Norwegian women joined me as the ship raised anchor, and we had a wonderful view of the snowy mountains going by as we left. The bay, passing King Edward Point where there is a research station, and where the Argentinians first landed in 1982, overcoming a small garrison of ten Royal Marines, and heralding the whole sad unnecessary conflict.

Back in the cabin I was settling down to a quiet afternoon when they announced that all the boats were being launched in our new anchoring spot, so we could all go on a short cruise to see more of the island and its wildlife. I took a bit of persuading, as I was by then in relax mode, but I suited up and went on a most enjoyable whiz round the bay we were in, Hercules Bay, it turned out to be. The expedition crew member in the boat with us was as high as a kite. There had never before been good enough weather to do this, so she was as wise as we were about what we were going to see! Feeling suitably intrepid, we roared off in the boat to the edge of the steep cliffs round the bay only to see macaroni penguin colonies, fur and elephant seals, arctic terns and antarctic terns, even two of the rare and endangered pipit. Ju even got a photo of this bird, the only small bird, not a seabird, the only songbird in South Georgia. A bottle of champagne is offered for the first person to locate a pipit nest, apparently. We were not that lucky.

By the time all the various groups had had their brief wildlife cruise, it was nearly dark, which here at the moment is around 8pm, but everyone was buzzing with excitement at the sights seen and the wildlife spotted.

Dinner was a buffet, which meant that anyone could eat any time. Since the dining room is built to house half the ship's passengers only at the one time, it was standing room only. Reindeer was on the menu. I had lasagne.

Having been up forever, I was exhausted to discover that we had to attend a briefing meeting in the conference room at 9pm, for tomorrow's plans. As we had already had a paper outline of the day's programme I didn't see the point.

Anyway, we finally fell into bed around ten, and don't remember a thing until six this morning. But the good new is, we DO go to Stromness, today.

Monday 7th

Weather still outstandingly good. Our first stop was in Fortuna Bay, where we landed and walked around a mile or less to a large king penguin colony, where there were lots of large fluffy brown chicks. We were as usual guided there and back by the expedition crew, armed with walkie talkies, red flags, and sticks to keep the breeding fur seals at bay. The elephant seals we have seen are just great sleeping blobs. Mostly nursing or pregnant mums as the dads are mostly off at sea. The baby fur seals are cute. About the size of a miniature poodle, they can be seen all over the place.

The game fit people who were doing the last 5 miles of Shackleton's walk to Stromness were landed from the ship, while the rest of us came back on board. The Fram then headed round to Stromness Bay, where we anchored in a space confined on most sides by mountains. The sun shone, lenticular clouds abounded, but this bay is subject to fierce catabatic winds, which left the Fram spinning cheerfully on her anchor all the time we were here.

Our second landing was a bit disappointing as Stromness is inaccessible now on safety grounds. Rickety buildings with asbestos mean people cannot go there. So instead we walked up the valley to Shackleton's waterfall, where he and Crean and Worsley had to use a rope to descend this last obstacle to their rescue. We took photos and then tasted the water, it was incredibly pure and cool.

On Tuesday we made an unscheduled stop at St Andrews Bay, and walked along a seal-packed beach, to a rookery of half a million king penguins, at the foot of three glaciers. Even the captain did the trek! It involved crossing two rivers running fast with meltwater from the glaciers.

This afternoon the ship will enter Drygalski fjord at the south eastern extremity of the island, before we head south west for the Antarctic peninsula. Mere words cannot describe this experience, the noise and the smell of half a million penguins and hundreds and hundreds of seals, in brilliant warm sunshine. If this is global warming, there might not be many more glaciers left.

So off we go for a few days at sea.