Adventures to the World’s Hidden Corners

Near the Antarctic Circle Cierva Cove, Antarctica Sunday, January 25, 2020 Late Afternoon; 4:00 PM It was our last day on the Antarctica continent. We had become almost oblivious to the stark, stunningly beautiful environment surrounding us. After days of dramatic landscapes, icebergs, whales, seals, and penguins, it had become “routine.” Just a week earlier, everything was dramatically different and seemed alien. We had never experienced anything like it before. But now, we had almost become anesthetized to the strange world around us. All that was soon about to change… The afternoon’s excursion through a field of enormous white and blue icebergs in Cierva Cove would be our last in the zodiac. Several hundred nautical miles north of the Antarctic Circle, a humpback had breached far in the distance. Racing full throttle towards it, a fast-swimming leopard seal followed playfully, frolicking in our wake, entertaining us with his best gymnastic moves. Then, spotting the humpback’s tail fluke again, onboard naturist and zodiac driver Dr. Maria Rodriguez, the expedition’s penguin expert, alerted the other zodiacs in our area by walkie-talkie to join in our whale search. We were enjoying the comedic antics of our new seal companion and knew our other shipmates would too. It was the perfect way to end a magnificent two weeks. We did not know it then, but Abercrombie & Kent had secretly planned a surprise to celebrate our last zodiac excursion. A few stowaways were hidden on board each zodiac: plates of elegant cold appetizers, chilled crystal glasses, and bottles of expensive French champagne. How sophisticated… and… so French! Next to a tall, picturesque iceberg, Maria idled the zodiac’s motor and broke out our hidden surprise as we began to reminisce as a group how wonderful the trip had been. Sharing canapés of foie gras, we agreed it was a great setting and the perfect way to end our last zodiac excursion. Just as Maria began peeling the foil back from the champagne bottle’s neck, with our chilled glasses ready and just before the “pop” of the cork, IT HAPPENED! Antarctica had one last extraordinary unplanned “eye-opening” departing gift we never expected nor will ever forget. Just as Maria positioned her thumbs underneath the cork, we heard a loud, sharp crack, not from the champagne cork but from somewhere outside the zodiac. A dull, resounding thud followed, reverberating in the ice-cold Antarctic air like the concussion from distance canon fire. But that thud wasn’t very distant at all. It was right next to us. Instantly reacting, Maria tucked the unopened champagne bottle under her left arm, grabbed the throttle with her right hand, and gunned the zodiac’s motor to full speed without saying a word. The zodiac lurched forward, rapidly accelerating. Her expression was intense as she nervously looked back over her shoulder. She knew what was happening… but we didn’t. It was unnerving for the zodiac’s twelve passengers. Two seconds later, a low-pitched guttural primordial groan emitted from the depths within the same iceberg we were next to moments before. Seventy feet high above the waterline and extending over 600 feet below, the mountain of ice seemed to awaken from a deep slumber and began to move in eerie slow motion. Maria sped ahead while we sat, transfixed on what was happening behind us. Then, unbelievably, the massive iceberg began to roll over. Before it, a small tsunami was racing directly toward us. Maria’s expression changed as the wave created by the rolling iceberg lifted our zodiac before safely passing underneath. With the understatement of the adventure, she smiled and said, “That was a little too close for comfort.” Her smile morphed into laughter. Relieved, we joined her. We had escaped, and luckily a shipmate on a nearby zodiac videoed the entire event with his cell phone, including our zodiac in full throttle, as we raced away from the giant rolling iceberg. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. Later we learned that “our” iceberg had split in two, probably caused by an alarming increase in seawater temperatures around the Antarctic continent. After barely avoiding being literally “steamrolled” by an iceberg and now at a safe distance, that ice-cold French champagne tasted extra good. Antarctica was a continent of special surprises; some indeed, “a little too close for comfort.”