As the season draws to an end, it feels like we have Antarctica all to ourselves. The silence is only broken by the sound of the wind and the occasional crack of distant ice. But as the fog slowly lifts, a familiar silhouette appears in the caldera—Europa. From the ridge of Ronald Hill, we spot her anchored in the back of Whalers Bay, blending seamlessly into the rugged volcanic landscape with her square yards.
After yesterday’s first landing in Yankee Harbour, we had set sail for Deception Island. The weather wasn’t on our side, so we made a detour to Half Moon Island. There, the Argentine summer base Camara stands out vividly against the icy backdrop, its bright orange buildings a striking contrast to the snow-covered peaks of Livingston Island. High up in the rocky outcrops, a bustling Chinstrap penguin colony watches over the bay. A morning hike, crisp Antarctic air, and a breathtaking view—what more could we ask for?
With the wind easing and the whitecaps fading from the horizon, it’s time to move on. Our passage is calm, uneventful—just what we need. As we approach Neptune’s Bellows, the sun begins to set behind the island, painting the sky in gold. Everyone gathers on deck, plates in hand, soaking in the moment. We’re too late for a landing, but in the fading light, with the caldera to ourselves, it hardly matters.
At first light, we weigh anchor at the same time as Europa. Passing port to port in the heart of Port Foster is a surreal moment—we’ve crossed paths before, port to port, starboard to starboard, but never inside an active volcano. They are bound for South Georgia and later, the Boreal Summer. Bon voyage, Janke and crew!
We drop anchor in front of Telephone Bay and prepare for our final adventure of the day: a hike up the volcanic cone. The weather is on our side, and the view from the top is unforgettable. No time to wander off to Pendulum Cove for a dip in the so-called “thermal” waters… which, as it turns out, aren’t quite as warm as one might hope. Instead, we settle for hot chocolate, a shower, and a well-earned dinner.
A perfect day. A perfect Antarctica.
All is well.
Gijs
