And like so many others, once you brave the icy facade, the Lady in White reveals her true heart, and you are dazzled by her beauty.
The waters of the bay are as still as glass, and since we aren’t moving very quickly we don’t do much to disturb it. This morning I’m told the water was so clear that you could see the penguins swimming under it, playing in the wake of the ship. So far it seems that everyone has seen a penguin except for me. What I have seen is miles and miles of breathtaking white, and acres of peaceful silence. Outside of the shelter of the bay the winds still howl and the water is iced iron, here you are in a whole other world. I have heard a few people mutter that this is just like Alaska – they lie, Glacier Bay may be beautiful, Hubbard Glacier may be impressive – but they are nothing like this.
Nature has painted with light, making the snow glow pink and peach and crystalline blue, each colour reflected and refracted in the stillness of the water that laps against the ice itself.
It renders you speechless, and makes you feel very very small indeed. If Alaska makes you feel tiny, this makes you feel infinitesimal. You are reminded of the size of it all, the tremendous scale, when you see the research stations, often inactive this time of year, huddled at the base of the giant ice mountains, seeming almost apologetic for being there.
Antarctica does not judge, it does not care, it was here long before us and we can only hope that – despite what we may be foolish enough to do to it – it will be here long after we are “fairy tales and books are written by rabbits”.
It’s hard to believe that while all this near-silent beauty is surrounding us, the ship is quietly preparing for extreme heavy weather tomorrow as we head into Drake strait. Something we are all trying not to think about, especially in a place like this, surrounded by the chill peaceful water and the beautiful uncaring snow.
We stopped moving at 6:24pm. Well out of the shelter waters of the enchanted looking bay where we cruised this morning, we sit nearly perfectly still, the only motion being the slight sway as the swells lift us up and set us down. With the manning status gone to red, no one can really ask why we stopped. We just did, and so here we sit, watching the snow outside the library windows.
Don’t think about it…
What?
What you just thought…
We’ll be moving again in the morning.