HDS25-25, trip log, Falkland Islands - South Georgia - Antarctica

At 4pm, after travelling from all over the world, one hundred and sixty of us gathered on the pier in Ushuaia, staring up at what would be our new home for nineteen days, the Hondius. Many of us had been exploring the surrounding area of Ushuaia for a few days, while others had just arrived in from Bueno Aires from their international flights. As we climbed the gangway we were greeted by some of the Expedition team and the hotel department showed us to our cabins.

We gathered in the lounge for a mandatory safety breify and abandon ship drill, something we have to do before the ship leaves the port. Then we could enjoy the views of Ushuaia and the Beagle Channel as we set sail. We could already see some Giant Petrels and Black-browed albatross flying around.

We were invited to join the staff in the bar for Captain’s Cocktails where we toasted to the vogaye. Here we met Expedition Leader Pippa and the team of guides and she told us more about what to expect on our journey.

We then went to dinner and in the evening we began unpacking and familarising ourselves with the ship. It was an exciting day with lots of new information, names, and faces to learn, so some got an early night, while others enjoyed a drink in the bar.

We awoke for our first day on the high seas to sunshine, blue skies and a stiff westerly breeze. To our pleasant surprise, Hondius coped well with minimal rolling and pitching and most of us made to breakfast. Some of us did suffer with the movement and spent some time resting in the cabins.

We launched into a busy day of briefings and lectures. First, we learned about getting in and out of the Zodiacs we’d be using to ferry us to and from Hondius. Lifejackets, the seaman’s grip, how to disembark on the beach etc. were all comprehensively covered. Jess and Jerry then talked to us about the whales of the Southern Ocean to prepare us for (hopefully) many sightings during the voyage.

We were issued with muck boots to keep our feet dry on landings and then, after lunch, our next task was to clean all our outdoor kit in advance of our arrival in the Falklands. All signs of dirt, food and plant life were meticulously removed. Then Juan gave us his insights into photography with reference to the challenges of the polar environment.

Meanwhile, seabirds wheeled around the port quarter of the ship: Southern Giant Petrels, Cape Petrels and Black Browed Albatross all making the most of the bright sunshine and fair winds.

In the evening, we were invited to our first recap, where Pippa told us the plans for the next day. Andy taught us about the origins of some nautical phrases and even did a sailor’s dance for us!

This morning we woke up excited to experience our first day of operations. The wind was very strong, as it often is the the Falklands, but the expedition team had booked the perfect sheltered place for us to visit in a westerly wind, New Island.

We set off from the ship in the zodiacs wrapped up in our waterproofs and landed on a beach in Coffin Harbour on the South end of the Island. Pippa greeted us and showed us the walking route and the museum.

On the walk we could see many new species, such as kelp geese and their gooslings, caracaras, turkey vultures, and long-tailed meadow larks. The finale to the walk was arriving at a spectacular nesting colony which was the temporary home of imperial cormorants, Southern rockhopper penguins, and Black-browed albatross. The birds were nesting on a cliff that we could walk around the edge of. The scenery was incredible, there were impressive waves hitting the shore below and on the far side of the path we could see the Rockhopper penguins jumping from the huge surf and gripping to the rocks with their claws, hopping their way up to their nests.

Seeing the Black-browed albatross on their nests was a very special moment. Many of them had very small chicks that were just a couple of days old. They were grey and fluffy. The Rockhoppers had older chicks that were almost two weeks old and we could just see a few little beaks poking out from under their parents. The wind was fierce up at the colony but that didn’t stop us from getting a privileged glimpse into the lives of these magical birds.

As we arrived back at the beach we had the chance to look in the local museum and even purchase some crafts from the local people of New Island. We reluctantly rode the zodiacs back to the ship and washed off our saltly clothes that had protected us from the spray.

In the evening recap Pippa told us all the information we needed for visiting the town of Stanley. We were looking forward to learning more about these special islands in the Capital of the Falklands.

Today was another unforgettable day of exploration as we continued our journey aboard the Hondius. In the morning, we docked at Port Stanley, the charming capital of the Falkland Islands. As we stepped off the ship and onto the island, we were greeted by the cool, crisp air and the picturesque landscape. The small town, with its colourful buildings and windswept streets, provided a glimpse into the unique blend of British and Falkland Islands culture. We wandered through the town, visiting its shops and taking in the tranquil beauty of the surrounding terrain. We visited the museum, the local shops and some of us went to the Falklands Distillery for some Gin.

Before we knew it, lunchtime arrived, and we reboarded the Hondius, ready to set sail again. As we enjoyed our meals and shared stories of the morning’s adventures, the ship began its journey towards South Georgia. The afternoon was marked by a smooth sail through the Southern Ocean, with the vast, open waters stretching in every direction. The excitement for our upcoming stop at South Georgia in a few days was palpable, but there was still more to learn.

Later in the afternoon, we gathered for a fascinating lecture by Marcelo, who provided an insightful overview of the history of the Falkland Islands. His detailed account covered the islands' colonial past, the 1982 Falklands War, and the complex geopolitical dynamics that continue to shape its identity. The lecture was both informative and thought-provoking, offering a deeper understanding of this remote part of the world.

As the day ended, we found ourselves on deck, enjoying the serene surroundings as the Hondius sailed toward its next destination. We spotted a few dolphins playing around the ship. The mix of exploration, education, and natural beauty made today truly special, leaving us eagerly anticipating what tomorrow will bring on this remarkable expedition.

We woke up at 7:45, reluctantly peeling ourselves from the warmth of bed. Breakfast was a lively affair—pastries, eggs, noodles and coffee fueled our semi-conscious selves as we prepared for a day packed with excitement. First up was a briefing where we watched a visitors guide to South Georgia documentary narrated by David Attenborough. South Georgia is a paradise for wildlife enthusiasts and home to more penguins than you could count. The film made us feel so excited and emotional about the island. Fun fact: there are four kinds of penguins that breed here, and the king penguins are famous for being glamorous, photogenic, and prone to attracting attention wherever they go.

Next, Jerry and Mark shared their expertise on penguins in Mandarin and English, giving us some unexpected nuggets of wisdom. Did you know penguins have built-in tuxedos to help camouflage them from predators? White bellies blend in with the sunlight from below, and their dark backs keep them stealthy from above.

After lunch, things got hands-on with Rose’s dumpling-making workshop. Imagine a room full of eager cooks, some very experienced in dumpling making and others complete novices, rolling dough, pinching dumplings, and creating what can only be described as "abstract culinary art." Some dumplings were masterpieces; others looked like they’d had a rough day. But by the time someone put on music and turned the room into an impromptu dumpling disco, no one cared. Between laughs and a surprising amount of skill development, it was clear this workshop was more about fun and bonding than finesse.

Pippa’s talk on polar pinnipeds followed. Elephant seals? They’re basically the sumo wrestlers of the animal kingdom—massive, lumbering, and surprisingly agile in water. They can dive nearly 2,400 meters deep, holding their breath for over an hour, because apparently, they like to make human divers feel inadequate. Oh, and male elephant seals battle it out for beach real estate, often bellowing loudly enough to wake the neighbors (or scare off rival seals).

As the day was winding down, we gathered for a cozy Christmas movie night. After a delicious dinner, the popcorn machine kicked into gear, chocolate-covered strawberries made the rounds, and we settled in for Elf. There’s something magical about watching Will Ferrell pour syrup on spaghetti while your own face is stuffed with sweets. By the time Buddy screamed, “Santa!”, we were practically humming Jingle Bells. Popcorn flew, laughter echoed, and the Christmas spirit took hold—sealing the day as one we’d never forget.

The day began with the ship navigating through rough weather in the Scotia Sea, with high waves making movement on board a challenge. Despite the conditions, the morning started with a hearty and nutritious breakfast, energising everyone for the day ahead.

As the journey continued, an unexpected and thrilling sight awaited—the first iceberg of the voyage came into view. This wasn’t just any iceberg but the enormous and famed ICEBERG A76B, a remarkable highlight amidst the dramatic seascape. The encounter added a sense of awe and excitement, serving as a reminder of the raw power and beauty of the Antarctic environment, as it was also surrounded by feeding humpback whales, and lots of different species of sea birds. This event found us all gathered at the bridge or on the outer decks delighting with the views. A real hint of the wildness that was awaiting ahead for us.

Later in the morning, we gathered for an engaging lecture on the geopolitics of South Georgia presented by George, providing fascinating insights into the region’s history and significance. Lunch followed, offering a moment to refuel and reflect on the morning's experiences.

In the afternoon, attention shifted to biosecurity measures. The expedition team conducted a thorough inspection, emphasising the importance of strict protocols to prevent the introduction of invasive species to South Georgia. Every step was taken to ensure the visit would leave no negative impact on this pristine environment.

As the day wound down, the daily briefing brought a surge of excitement. Plans for the next day were unveiled—finally, arrival at South Georgia! With improving weather, landings and zodiac cruises were on the agenda to explore the region's incredible wildlife and historical whaling station buildings. Anticipation filled the air, and the evening concluded with dinner, toasts, and a warm sense of camaraderie throughout the ship.

We reached South Georgia! The sun greeted us when we sailed into Fortuna Bay this morning. It felt like we had woken up in heaven. From the decks we saw our first King penguins as well as several fur seals swimming in the clear waters. Looking at the landscape, we were overwhelmed by the beauty of our new destination. We were surrounded by high peaks, glaciers and green rocky outcrops and coves along the shoreline. After our breakfast we got ready to do a zodiac cruise and then step on land for the first time on this amazing island.

South Georgia is notorious for its swell, and we had slightly challenging conditions a head of us on the beach. Arriving at the landing site at Whistle Cove, we saw four expedition guides in waders standing in the water. Our drivers positioned themselves perpendicular to the beach and drove in on the back of a wave, ‘parking’ the zodiac perfectly on the beach. We quickly had to get out of the zodiac while some big waves dumped some water over the stern and into the boat. After this first excitement we couldn’t believe our eyes. We had landed in paradise.

Everywhere we looked there were king penguins walking around, not bothered by us at all, quite curious. We were instructed to follow the poles to get to their colony. We first had to make our way past some sleepy, farty elephant seals who laid cozily next to and on top of each other in a puddle of water. Then we continued over the grassy plains, where hundreds of fur seals were dotted around. Some only opening their eyes for a moment and others curious to find out what we were and trying to sniff us. But by putting our hands up they would mostly back away. After about 1.5 kilometers we would arrive at the king penguin colony of about 7.000 breeding pairs, plus their fluffy, brown chicks, situated on the outwash plain below the König Glacier in the back. Standing just five meters away from the colony was just unbelievable. So much was going on. And then listening to the squeaky sounds of the chicks and the two different calls of the male and female kings. That mixed with the grunting and sheep-like calls from the baby fur seals calling for their parents was out of this world.

Back on board we enjoyed another delicious lunch while we were relocating to Grytviken, located within King Edward Cove on the western shore of Cumberland East Bay. After the Government officers had checked and cleared us on our biosecurity, we were allowed to be brought to land. It is the place where the South Georgia Government’s administrative center is located and where some scientists live and work for months, and a few even year-round. We stepped into another world again this afternoon and got acquainted with the whaling history that started in the beginning of the 20th century and only closed in 1966.

We had a very interesting afternoon. One of the ladies who works in the museum led a short tour through the whaling station and afterwards, we were able to walk around the remains ourselves. We visited the museum, including the small building with a replica of the James Caird, used by Ernest Shackleton during his Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition with the ‘Endurance’. A toast with Shackleton whisky was made to ‘The Boss’ at the cemetery where he was buried on the 5th of March 1922.

Back on board we heard the plan for tomorrow, presented by Pippa. Then we were asked to dress warmly and head out to deck 5 at the stern of the ship, where we would have a nice barbecue. When we were done eating the tables and benches were put away and a dance floor was created. We had fun for a little while and then had to go back inside to black out the ship to prevent any bird strikes. What an amazing first day here at South Georgia!

A profound silence enveloped everything. It was the kind of silence so special, so fragile, that you wouldn't dare break it — so much so that you’d rather stand still, unmoving, no matter how long it lasted. In the pre-dawn gloom, white snowy sheathbills could be made out, flitting above the decks of the Hondius like oversized moths. The sea was calm; the flag at the ship’s bow hung limply, lifeless. The ship itself rocked gently on the slow, low, yet powerful swells of the Southern Ocean. The rhythmic heaving of the waves, a distant echo of a storm that had passed by, seemed to take out its fury on the shoreline, hurling enormous breakers onto the sand. Here and there, meeting a cliff or a rocky outcrop, the waves exploded skyward in plumes of spray.

Despite this, St. Andrew’s Bay appeared remarkably serene. A valley encircled on three sides by towering mountains carried on with its usual life. To the east, the sky was rapidly turning pink, heralding the sunrise. Like embers in a fire that had smoldered all night, the clouds glowed brighter and brighter with each passing moment. Three o’clock in the morning — or rather, a quarter past three. What an ungodly hour. The start of an endlessly long, and equally endlessly fascinating day.

By 3:55 a.m., the entire expedition team had gathered at the shell door on the third deck. As the heavy, reinforced door swung open, a Zodiac was already waiting, and everyone busied themselves loading the gear needed for the shore landing. Pippa, the expedition leader, commandeered a spare Zodiac to scout ahead. Plans, after all, existed to be revised on the fly.

At exactly 4 a.m., George’s voice filled the ship's speakers. That day, he — the first assistant expedition leader — had been tasked with the wake-up call. His warm, resonant tone was ideally suited for the job, pulling everyone from Morpheus’s embrace like a fishing net dragging reluctant catch to the surface. Groggy passengers sitting on their bunks struggled to make sense of the world, only to recall that this day, according to the schedule, had an exceptionally early start. Hastily, they scrambled to get ready and set off in pursuit of adventure.

News soon arrived from the shore: Pippa and a few guides had successfully landed. A positive sign — it meant the landing was feasible! However, the Zodiac cruise had to be canceled; the seas near the shore were too rough. Safety concerns aside, photographers would find such conditions infuriating, as the incessant motion rendered clear shots impossible. Only four Zodiacs remained on the water — enough to ferry everyone ashore and back later.

Meanwhile, the sun climbed higher. It had risen above the horizon, casting its morning light across the world, but the mountains encircling St. Andrew’s Bay to the east continued to shield it from view. Fully dressed and ready, we gathered near the shell door, when at last a brilliant ray of sunlight pierced the jagged dragon’s-teeth peaks, momentarily blinding us. The world instantly transformed — more vivid, more exhilarating. Yet the moment passed quickly; the sun climbed higher, disappearing behind a thick veil of clouds.

Groups of ten at a time boarded the Zodiacs, heading for the shore. The high but steady swells carried us smoothly along, aligning with our direction. The real challenge, however, awaited us at the landing site. Simply pulling up to the beach wasn’t an option; the Zodiac driver had to catch a wave like a surfer and ride it, letting the surf propel the craft onto the sand. Our guides, to their credit, executed this maneuver flawlessly. Once the Zodiac landed, we needed to disembark without hesitation and move several meters inland. Expedition team members directed us from there, explaining where to go, what to observe, and how to avoid trouble with the territorial fur seals. The Zodiac drivers, meanwhile, rode the next wave back out to sea, ready to repeat the process until everyone had landed.

We took in our surroundings. A sandy beach gave way to a grassy valley, bordered by towering mountains, massive glaciers, and a terminal moraine already overgrown with vegetation. The early morning air was crisp, as invigorating as our excitement.

The beach and valley teemed with wildlife: giant petrels dozing with heads tucked under wings, elephant seal pups weaned by their parents, fur seals scanning their surroundings with haughty vigilance, and, of course, countless king penguins. Their main colony lay beyond the glacial moraine. Cameras at the ready, we began to move forward, eager to immerse ourselves in this incredible scene.

The journey ahead was no short stroll — it even included wading through a lively little river that meandered through the valley, originating from a glacial lake. Our route, or more accurately, our trajectory, was marked by red poles planted by our ever-thoughtful guides.

Moving from pole to pole, occasionally negotiating with the disgruntled fur seals objecting to our presence, we eventually reached the riverbank. To our surprise, the banks were claimed by hundreds of molting penguins. They stood motionless along the water’s edge, shedding their old feathers, which drifted away in the current, while sleek, bright new ones emerged in their place. Molting is a grueling process for penguins. During this time, they lose their waterproofing and can’t swim, meaning they fast for weeks, standing dejectedly on the riverbank until the ordeal is over. Careful not to disturb them, we crossed the river with the active assistance of our guides. The water wasn’t deep, but the current was impressively strong.

A few hundred meters farther, we began ascending the moraine. On one of the slopes, right beside the trail, we stumbled upon a skua’s nest. A chick, full of energy, scurried around exploring its surroundings, while the parents watched vigilantly to ensure nothing happened to their offspring. When someone paused to snap a few photos, one of the adults spread its wings menacingly, puffed out its chest, and opened its beak in a display of defiance — a clear signal to move along.

A few more steep steps, another sharp incline, and we reached the summit of the moraine. There, waiting for us, was Mark, our ornithologist, flanked by a couple of guides. Mark’s face bore a lopsided grin, hinting that he was privy to a secret and relishing our forthcoming reaction. The answer to his unspoken riddle revealed itself within moments as we crossed the final few meters. The moraine dropped steeply into the western part of the valley, which spread out before us like a vast tableau. And there — there! Thousands, tens of thousands, no, hundreds of thousands of king penguins. We were standing before the largest colony of these magnificent birds in the world. Transfixed, we stood rooted to the spot, struggling to believe what our eyes beheld. It took a while for us to recover and start noticing the details.

At first glance, the colony was a chaotic riot, underscored by the cacophony of penguin calls — a din so intense we had to raise our voices to converse, though most of us, awestruck, preferred silence. Amid the apparent disorder, certain patterns emerged. “Nurseries” of chicks, absurdly clad in their fluffy brown down, huddled together in groups. The adults were engaged in their routines: some waddled toward the sea, while others lumbered back with stomachs full of krill and fish. Most penguins, however, simply stood still, neither coming nor going.

Alas, our time was limited, and we couldn’t linger for hours on the moraine summit. Before long, we had to retrace our steps, once again skirting hostile fur seals, wading across the river, and weaving between elephant seal pups.

Any seasoned traveler venturing into a remote wilderness knows that the return journey demands as much effort as reaching the destination. Similarly, as we stood on the beach donning life jackets, it was clear that getting back to the ship would require navigating the surf once more in a Zodiac, entrusted to the skill of our guides.

On Pippa’s signal, the driver expertly rode a wave and “beached” the Zodiac. Our task was to climb aboard as quickly as possible — a feat complicated by the waves slamming into the craft’s stern, dousing us in cold, salty seawater mixed with sand and a generous helping of penguin feathers. Brrr.

Reaching the Hondius shell door, we disembarked one by one, braving the pitching of the waves with help from the guides and crew. Back in our cabins, we hung our soaked gear to dry before heading — who would have guessed? — to breakfast. It was astonishing to realize it was only breakfast time; such is the nature of a day that begins at 4 a.m.

After breakfast, a hush fell over the ship. Morpheus, it seemed, had returned to claim his due. Many of us took the chance to nap, though some immediately began editing the photos taken during the landing.

Meanwhile, the weather turned fickle. Low clouds crept stealthily through the mountain passes from the island’s southern coast, shrouding the valley. A light snow began to fall, bringing with it a biting chill. It was a relief to already be aboard.

Before long, the captain ordered the anchor raised, and the Hondius set course for the site of our afternoon activity: Godthul Bay. The name, translating from Norwegian as "good valley," was promising. The journey was lengthy, taking about three hours. During that time, everyone, including the guides, had the opportunity for a well-deserved rest.

Godthul appeared to be very cozy, and this impression was not misleading. The water's surface barely rippled, and the oceanic swell hardly reached us; only in a few places was it slightly difficult to approach the shore. The *Hondius* dropped anchor, and the expedition team began preparing the Zodiacs so we could explore the shores of the bay and its inhabitants in more detail. The weather was overcast, but there was no rain or snow. Unlike our morning experience, getting into the Zodiacs now was much easier, and in less than half an hour, everyone was divided into boats, heading in different directions but all toward the shore.

Like any other bay in South Georgia, Godthul was framed by high mountains, their slopes covered with tussock grass. A narrow strip of beach was densely occupied by local fauna — fur seals, mostly their pups, elephant seals, mostly their pups, and gentoo penguins. However, a couple of king penguins were also present.

We moved slowly along the shore, observing the animals and their behaviors. Those of us who were interested in ornithology mostly focused on kelp gulls, giant petrels, and listened carefully, hoping to spot the endemic species — the South Georgia pipit. These tiny, sparrow-sized songbirds were on the verge of extinction just a few years ago because the rats brought by whalers to the island ruthlessly devoured both the pipits and their eggs. These birds survived only on neighboring islands, but interestingly, once the island eradication program was successfully completed, they returned and began rapidly multiplying, once again reclaiming their homes from the cursed rats. Some of us were lucky enough to observe a pipit fluttering from rock to rock.

After returning to the ship, we gathered in the observation lounge for the daily recap, where Pippa shared plans for the upcoming day, and William, our hotel manager, delighted us with the news that instead of the usual dinner in the restaurant, we would have a Christmas barbecue on the open deck, with mulled wine provided by the establishment.

We dressed warmly and lined up. Our chefs, engineers, and even the officers on the bridge all participated in grilling the meat over the coals. Tables and benches were set up on the deck. It was wonderful — having dinner with a view of the beauties of South Georgia. No restaurant, even one with three Michelin stars, could compare to this. Music played, we conversed, sipping mulled wine, while the ocean lazily and gently rocked our ship. The twilight deepened, and the world around us gradually lost its outlines. Tomorrow — Christmas.

We awoke early on Christmas Day to the clattering of hooves, jingling of bells and the gentle thump of thick black boots on the top deck. Wondering what it could possibly be, we ascended the central staircase, poking our head round the door onto deck 8, only to see a sleigh disappearing into the early morning sky, a jolly ‘Ho ho ho’ echoing across the gentle water. Surely not - It could only have been merry old Saint Nick.

Excited for the day ahead, we returned to the warmth of Hondius, descending to the dining room for another wonderful breakfast from our galley team. Shortly after, we boarded the zodiacs and headed out for our landing and zodiac cruise at Gold Harbour. On the zodiacs, we weaved in and out of the towering cliffs of Gold Heads, in search of fur seals and penguins. We gazed along the never-ending beach, full of life, in the shadows of Bertrab glacier, hanging high from the mountains above. On land, we enjoyed a short walk to the nearby penguins, mesmerized by the hustle and bustle of 50,000 penguins all squeezed onto this beautiful beach.

After our morning activities, we returned, once again, for lunch onboard, as the vessel sailed out of Gold Harbour, heading further south towards Cooper bay. As we entered the bay Hondius took anchor, nestled between Cooper Island and the mainland of South Georgia, surrounded by towering mountains, glaciers and huge tabular icebergs.

After lunch, we donned our waterproof clothing once again to enjoy a zodiac cruise in the Bay, in search of the star attraction – Macaroni Penguins. We cruised between ice and rock, weaving in and out of kelp beds in search of chinstraps, fur seals, king penguins and, of course, the crested Macaroni’s. As the cruise progressed, we were even greeted with beautiful sunlight, beaming down from above, dancing on the rippling water and ice.

After our cruise, we made our way straight to the outer decks as Hondius sailed out through the Cooper Sound into a sea of tabular icebergs which surrounded the Southern tip of South Georgia. For hours we sailed through the ice, the sun setting in the background, enjoying the spectacular views from the outer decks, and then the dining room. As we settled into the festivities of Christmas dinner, we knew we were seated in the most beautiful dining room on earth, views of the ice and mountains of South Georgia. As the day came to an end, we returned to our rooms, excited for our destination the following day at King Haakon, in the footsteps of Shackelton.

The day started with the ship navigating its way into the entrance of King Haakon Bay on the southern side of South Georgia. The bay, named for King Haakon VII of Norway by Carl Larsen who founded the whaling station at Grytviken, forms a 13km long inlet. By the time everyone had finished enjoying breakfast we were ready to start exploring our first stop on the journey retracing Shackleton’s epic voyage from Elephant island in the South Shetlands to South Georgia.

The stark beauty of the scenery surrounding Peggotty Bluff with its towering snow-covered peaks and the Murray glacier at the head of the inlet was breathtaking. On the beach we were greeted by a hareem of Antarctic Fur Seals along with a couple of territorial males and a small group of King Penguins. Following the marked route through the tussock grass behind the beach we discovered several groups of immature moulting Southern Elephant Seals, all slumbering and peaceful until one wanted to change position, triggering a round of complaining grunts and shuffling Thinking of Shackletons arrival here at Peggotty Bluff after their initial landing at Cave Cove at the mouth of the inlet brought to mind the quote by Sir Raymond Priestley about Scott, Amundsen and Shackleton; “For scientific discovery give me Scott; for speed and efficiency of travel give me Amundsen; but when disaster strikes and all hope is gone, get down on your knees and pray for Shackleton”.

The beach behind the bluff where the men camped in the upturned James Caird, now the realm of curious elephant seals, provided panoramic views of Shackleton Gap, the start of the route taken by Shackleton, Worsley and Crean to cross South Georgia to initiate the rescue of Shackleton’s men on Elephant Island.

Following the morning’s exploration, it was time to return to the ship for a hearty lunch before continuing our journey south through the Scotia Sea towards the Antarctic Peninsula. However, before leaving King Haakon Bay, we were treated to one final sight, that of Cave Cove, the site of Shackleton’s initial South Georgia landing following their perilous 17-day journey from Elephant Island to South Georgia. This bought to a close the highly successful South Georgia portion of the expedition. Before sailing away we had the chance to sail past Cape Rosa wich was the first spot where Shackleton landed in the James Cairn before carrying on to Peggarty Bluff.

Upon leaving King Haakon Bay we traversed an area of sea littered with small icebergs before finally reaching open water and steaming south.

Today marked a full day at sea as we continued our journey south toward Antarctica. It gave us time to process and reflect on the incredible experience we had in South Georgia, and a chance to sort through our photographs. The sea was uncharacteristically mild, with gentle waves and a blanket of fog lending an air of mystery to the day.

One of the highlights was sailing impressively close to the enormous tabular iceberg A23a, a frozen giant that loomed on the horizon like a city of ice. The proximity to the iceberg brought an abundance of wildlife, including humpback whales surfacing nearby and an array of seabirds. Cape petrels, Antarctic prions, and other avian companions danced through the fog, adding life to the subdued seascape.

The day onboard was filled with engaging lectures. Aitana told us all about sea ice and glaciers, preparing us for the sites we would see in Antarctica. Pippa and Rose then told us simultaneously about the history of whaling in Antarctica and South Georgia. Sasha then told us about the geography of Antarctica, helping to deepen our understanding of the fascinating environment we were about to travel through.

The evening brought a festive atmosphere with the South Georgia Heritage Trust Auction, which turned out to be a lively event. Opportunities like steering the Hondius, purchasing Shackleton whisky and buying the Hondius flag were some of the most wanted items in the auction. There were plenty of laughs, good-natured bidding wars, and a shared sense of purpose as we raised funds for a meaningful charity that we now had a personal connection with. It was a day of quiet beauty, education, and camaraderie as we sailed ever closer to the White Continent.

Today, we sailed on a captivating journey to explore the mysterious and pristine continent of Antarctica. Every moment was filled with endless possibilities and surprises, immersing us in this extraordinary polar adventure.

The morning sunlight gently poured into the cabin, and at 07:45, the crisp sound of the wake-up call echoed through the air, awakening every traveller and signalling the start of a new day filled with exciting exploration. Afterward, we headed to the restaurant at 08:00 to enjoy a sumptuous buffet breakfast, awakening our taste buds and replenishing our energy for the beautiful moments ahead.

At 09:15, we embarked on a journey through time, delving into the legendary Belgian Antarctic Expedition led by Adrien de Gerlache. The Chinese-language lecture was held in the lecture room, where Rose narrated this thrilling chapter of history. Meanwhile, in the observation lounge, Marcelo delivered the English lecture, sharing the story of this brave and monumental adventure with insight.

Next, at 11:30, Lucia met us in the observation lounge to give a captivating presentation about krill, the key stone species in Antarctica's ecosystem. She revealed the mysteries of these tiny creatures through vivid language, highlighting their crucial role in the Antarctic ecosystem. The lecture was conducted in English with Chinese translation, allowing us to fully appreciate the subtle and grand scale of Antarctica's ecological system.

At 12:30, we headed to the restaurant to enjoy a delicious and meticulously prepared lunch. The exquisite dishes and warm atmosphere provided us with a relaxing moment to recharge before the afternoon’s adventures.

At 14:00, to preserve the ecological integrity of Antarctica, we proceeded to the 3rd deck for a mandatory biosecurity check, following the order of deck floors. We brought our cleaned coats, backpacks, waterproofs, boots, tripods, hiking poles, and life vests. Every step we took helped protect this pristine land, and we stayed attentive to the broadcast notifications, ensuring all preparations were in place.

At 16:30, George presented a profound lecture in the observation lounge, exploring the complex relationship between the Antarctic Treaty system and polar geopolitics. He guided us through the international cooperation and conflicts surrounding Antarctica, unveiling the political wisdom and power behind this polar region. The lecture was in English with Chinese translation, allowing us to gain a deeper understanding of the international dynamics in this remote land.

As the evening glow painted the sky, at 18:15, we gathered in the observation lounge for a summary of the day’s activities. The expedition team shared their reflections on the exciting moments we had experienced, reminiscing about the journey and helping us capture the profound impressions of this Antarctic adventure.

At 19:00, as night fell, we headed to the restaurant for a sumptuous dinner. In the soft, ambient light, we had the chance to share our experiences and joys of the day with fellow travellers, exchanging stories and the little discoveries we made during the exploration.

At 20:30, the final activity of the day was a photography editing workshop hosted by Juan. This session marked a perfect conclusion to our Antarctic journey. We learned how to enhance our photos with editing techniques, capturing each breathtaking moment and allowing our photographic work to radiate unmatched beauty.

After two days at sea, we were always going to be excited at the prospect of seeing land again as we approached the South Shetland Islands. The pyramid of Cornwallis Island thrusting skywards from the ocean was dramatic. Mother Nature then ramped up the wow factor even more. A large aggregation of fin whales was a real treat for us all. Over seventy of these giant mammals were feeding on krill around Hondius for over half an hour as we made our way towards Elephant Island. Multiple blows, and fins to be seen everywhere. It was a real privilege to see this wonder of the world, and it was all before breakfast.

On Elephant Island, our goal was to visit Point Wild. It was from here that Shackleton had sailed on the James Caird for South Georgia, leaving most of his crew on this remote and isolated rocky spit of land surrounded by penguins and glacial precipices plunging hundreds of feet into the surging waves. The journey that had just taken us two days from King Haakon Bay on South Georgia took him and the crew 17 days. It was hard to imagine this – even harder to imagine the thoughts of the men left behind, not knowing if they would survive.

We were expecting to just admire Point Wild from the decks of the Hondius, so it was amazing to be able to hear that the expedition team could launch zodiacs and give us a real feel for this remote outpost of humanity. With the zodiacs oscillating up and down over a meter at the shell doors, embarking was a challenge of timing and balance, all achieved with the help of the guides and the AB’s. We cruised round the point into calmer waters to see the bust of Captain Luis Pardo, commander of the Yelcho that rescued the 22 men. Surrounded by chinstrap penguins and framed by the backdrop of the glacier cliff behind. It’s an awe-inspiring place and again a priviliege that few have been lucky enough to experience at close hand.

Returning to the ship, we continued south and west towards Antarctica, entertained and educated in equal parts with lectures on geology, oceanography, the Hondius kitchen and polar clothing. The range of talents amongst the crew is broad and unusual. Next stop: Deception Island!

We arrived early at Deception Island to begin the tricky navigation through what is known as ‘The Bellows’, a narrow passage into the caldera. Deception Island is a unique landscape, and isn’t actually an island at all, it is a submerged caldera created by a volcano.

Our morning activity was at Telephon Bay here we had the opportunity to go for a longer hike than usual. The expedition team set out a route which took us to some beautiful views overlooking lakes and streams made from the melt water of the snow on the hill high about us. Some of us even took the chance to really work off our Christmas dinner by running the route a few times. When the yellow and red groups returned to the ship, Gabi was waiting to give them a lecture all about Jackie Ronne and some others of the famous women in Antarctica. Having received a lecture from Rose about Chinese Research Stations in Antarctica, the green and blue group then set out to Telephon Bay for their landing.

There were some very charming chinstrap penguins we could admire back on the beach and two seals were hawled out on the beach resting, a weddell seal and a young crabeater seal. We enjoyed photographing the steam rising from the shore line, creating very atmospheric pictures.

We returned to the ship for lunch and to warm up. We began mentally preparing ourselves for the shorter afternoon activity at Pendulum Cove. Here we could see the ruins of a Chilean research station, but the main event happening on the beach was the Polar Plunge!

Many of us bravely jumped, ran, or walked into the sea, and the screams could be heard from the far end of the landing site.

We were welcomed back onboard by Victoria who served us some hot chocolate with an extra treat inside to warm us up.

Many of us rested for the remainder of the afternoon until the daily recap where we were very excited to hear about our plans for the next day. We were delighted to hear that we would be stepping onto mainland Antarctica and enjoyed the fantastic sights of the areas in the Gerlache Strait.

An hourglass typically captures our attention only when most of the sand has already fallen into the lower chamber. We watch it, mesmerized, waiting for the last grain to fall. The same happens with calendars. We let the river of time carry away days, weeks, and months into the abyss of the past without much thought, yet the final day of the year always holds a special significance. The last day, the last grain of sand. Tomorrow, the count will start anew; at midnight, the clock will be turned over. But that’s for midnight — right now…

Pippa’s soft voice, our expedition leader, echoed through the public address system of the Hondius slightly earlier than expected. The reason was compelling: our ship was approaching the Lemaire Channel, one of the Antarctic Peninsula’s most renowned landmarks. This narrow passage separates Booth Island from the mainland, framed by towering mountain peaks that plunge almost vertically into the water. We all hurried to bundle up and step onto the open decks to admire the view and take some photographs.

The Hondius moved slowly, weaving around icebergs and carefully maneuvering. We stood on the deck, captivated by the true Antarctic scenery — biting cold, glacier-covered mountainsides, icebergs, penguins, and above it all, a gray, overcast sky. Once the Hondius cleared the narrowest section of the channel, we made our way to the restaurant for breakfast.

The morning plans were ambitious: a continental landing was on the agenda. To achieve this, the Hondius had to travel several more nautical miles south before anchoring near Cape Tuxen. This tiny patch of land, transitioning into a sheer cliff, was too small to accommodate everyone at once, but landing in turns seemed feasible.

Pippa and a few guides headed ashore while we gathered on the third deck near the shell door. The entire morning activity consisted of a Zodiac cruise with the opportunity to step ashore and set foot on the seventh continent. Only two Zodiacs’ worth of passengers could be on land at a time; the rest had to wait their turn.

Naturally, we made good use of the waiting time by exploring the waters around Cape Tuxen. Here and there, we spotted Adélie penguins resting on small icebergs. But the real highlight? From time to time, spouts of water erupted in the distance: whales! A sizable pod of humpback whales was enjoying their morning feast nearby. We approached them quietly in our Zodiacs, marveling at their tails as they dove gracefully into the depths. Our guides demonstrated remarkable Zodiac-handling skills, allowing us to snap plenty of photos. Even without the cameras, simply witnessing the whales’ breakfast was an unforgettable experience.

After everyone had taken their turn visiting Cape Tuxen, the Zodiacs were lifted back onto the ship, and the Hondius headed north — our route now strictly northward — to our afternoon destination, Petermann Island. Meanwhile, we headed to the restaurant for lunch.

Petermann Island is modest in size, mostly covered by a glacier, and would be unremarkable if not for the penguins. Here, both Gentoo penguins, common to the region, and the more cold-hardy Adélie penguins nest. We had already seen a few Adélie penguins during the morning Zodiac cruise, but now we had the chance to observe their nests and even tiny, newly hatched chicks.

While some of us wandered along the shore, admiring the penguin chicks, others explored Petermann Island by water, participating in another Zodiac cruise. Icebergs, crabeater seals, sheer cliffs, and snow algae staining the glaciers were the highlights. Midway through the activity, we swapped places.

It seemed the day was winding down — recap, dinner, and the year’s end — but no. After dinner, we ventured out again to explore Antarctica. This time, there was no landing, but a Zodiac cruise in Salpetriere Bay was on the agenda. The bay is known to some as the “iceberg graveyard,” while others prefer the term “iceberg garden.” Shallow waters and strong currents cause icebergs to run aground here, creating labyrinths that are thrilling to navigate — albeit at a safe distance.

We spread out in different directions, but suddenly George, our assistant expedition leader, came over the radio. He had found a section of sea ice in one of the coves where no less than four leopard seals were resting. We quickly headed there, eager to see these unusual and predatory pinnipeds.

And there they were — huge, toothy, insatiable, spotted, and fearsome. Two were sleeping on the flat sea ice, one had climbed onto a small iceberg to doze, occasionally opening its eyes to survey the surroundings, and one slid into the water, playing around the Zodiacs. It surfaced now and then with a loud snort, taking a couple of breaths before diving again.

After we had our fill of observing these formidable predators, it was time to return to the ship. It was late, and the weather had turned for the worse, making the warmth of the Hondius even more welcoming.

Around midnight, we all gathered in the observation lounge to ring in 2025 with clinking champagne glasses. We could only hope it wouldn’t be the last year in human history.

After a very very short night we were woken by Pippa’s gentle voice in the wake up call. After last night’s New Years celebrations, which extended our average bed time by at least three hours, the breakfast at 7.30 was a shock quite similar to a polar plunge. Willmore and his dining room team eased our pain a little with their kind good mornings and happy new years.

Even though it was really quite early, we were not to waste any of the time in Antarctica that we still had left. Soon thus we stood ready for the very last time to board the zodiacs. The first groups went straight to the landing site on Orne Island and were greeted by colonies of gentoo and Adelie penguin.

It was a nice little walk through the snow to three major colonies. By now we were experienced walking in the deep snow and we knew to stick to the pole-marked paths to prevent any knee-deep holes. As it was our last landing, we enjoyed the gentoo penguins in their little penguin highways for the last times. With perseverance and outstretched flippers for balance, the gentoo penguins managed to climb the steep hills from the water to the colony.

Our experienced eyes were immediately looking for any chicks under the penguins’ bellies. The adelie penguins were still on their eggs, but some gentoo penguins already had two chicks to feed. The two species of brush tailed penguins both have pebble nests which they carefully construct. It was a privilege to witness the search for suitable pebbles, followed by the placement. These cheeky penguins are known to steal pebbles from each others nests, to add to their own. It was great fun to observe all these interactions, of which Lucia showed us a video later that day during recap.

The other groups enjoyed a zodiac cruise that was quite shaky and cold. Our Antarctic cold adaptability and layered clothing were seriously put to the test. We cruised the shores of Cuverville island, and found about 15.000 gentoo penguins, a few humpback whales and many large icebergs. It was a fitting end to our time around the Antarctic peninsula, where we had reached further south than we could have hoped for.

With a big storm forecasted on the infamous Drake Passage, we had to leave Antarctica after these last activities. Sailing through the Gerlache strait, with again many humpback whales all around us, we could only think back with happy memories in our hearts. And lovingly we said goodbye to the white continent.

We had an extra-long recap that evening where Pippa spoke about the mate selection in brush tailed penguins, who turn out to be quite like us in that aspect. Marcelo shared an interesting rescue of a passenger vessel stranded near the South Shetlands islands by an ice breaker. With that in mind we were quite happy to be sailing in our dear Hondius with our expert crew.

Jade spoke about how blue- and fin whales are known to interbreed, despite being separate species. She also showed the results of the humpback fluke photos submitted by fellow passengers that she put in the Happy Whale algorithm. We were exited to hear that we contributed four whales which are new to science to the database. Four of the whales that we had seen could be matched to known individuals, one of them was even sighted before in Colombia, its apparent breeding grounds.

To conclude, Juan invited us all to submit their favourite photo’s for the onboard photo competition. Which meant for a few of us a night worth of editing and selecting material. But the rest had a more relaxed evening with a viewing of the movie Happy feet, enjoyed with popcorn.

We had no wake-up call this morning!!!! We could finally have a little sleep in, many wishes were accomplished even when nobody asked for that in SASHA’s Questions Box!!!!

We sailed almost all day with a course of 348°, 11.1 knots (22 km/h) crossing from the Peninsula to Tierra del Fuego through the “Mar de Hoces” or… “Drake Passage”. Most of the time you can hear the later name assigned for this place but… the truth is that Francisco de Hoces from Spain was the first person to sail in this part of the New World in 1526. A storm pushed his ship “SAN LEMES” south towards the Cape Horn. Hoces was part of the Sebastian Elcano expedition at that time.

What about Francis Drake? Well, he was sailing to the “Mar de Hoces” in September 1578, 52 years after Hoces. Authors concluded that he never sailed through the passage that has his name.

In the morning Jess shared with us another of her magnificent lectures. She told us “How whales can save us”, teaching in her glamorous way that she has, explaining many unknown things for us.

Later, Saskia and Jerry told us an amazing description about “The Race to the South Pole.

At 11:00 hrs we were sailing close to Latitude: 60° 47’8 South and Longitude: 062° 53’,9 West. Winds were blowing from the North West 25 Knots and the swell showed us waves of 3 meters high hammocking our beautiful ship.

After lunch we had the opportunity to hear about the Future of Antarctica. George gave a detailed lecture about the impacts of tourism on the continent and explained about the Antarctic Treaty System and the fishing industry here . Rose gave an excellent lecture to the Madarin speakers about Ocean Conservation with an emphasis on plastic pollution. We were then very impressed to here about the career and life of Sasha. We watched a brilliant documentary about his time in Pyramiden as the keeper of the ghost town.

The last whale was sighted, this time it was a Minke whale that showed us the dorsal fin, almost like it was trying to say goodbye.

And… speaking of farewells, we crossed the parallel 60°00’00” South, exactly at 15 hours 22 minutes 22 seconds in Latitude: 60° (Obviously ; )) and Longitude: 063°14’24” West, leaving behind Antarctica.

At 20:30 hrs “Mermaid Juan” and Andy “The Walrus” led the results of the Photo Competition. A great challenge to all the passengers that demonstrated their high skills as Antarctic photographers.

Slowly, Antarctica was part of our past, but it will remain in our memories for ever.

There is a book titled “ILLUSIONS” by Richard Bach that says “Farewells are necessary for a future reencounter” so, we invite you not to say “Goodbye to Antarctica, just say “See you soon!”

Today we were woken up by Gabi, who had won the bid to do the wake-up call at the South Georgia Heritage Trust Auction. She played our favourite Happy Birthday song! The swell of the ocean was between four and six metres and a lot of people were feeling the effects. Some of us were a little sad that this would be our last full day of our trip. We started to pack and organise our onward travel inbetween lectures.

After breakfast, the first lecture of the day was from Jade who talked us through the History of the Earth with a lecture titled ’45 Million Years in 45 Minutes’.

Later on in the morning Gabi and Rose gave simultaneous lectures. For the Mandarin speakers Rose gave a history lecture about the explorer Jean Baptiste Charcot while Gabi spoke about Sir Francis Drake.

In the afternoon Lucia gave us a really engaging lecture about her home country of Argentina.

In the evening we gathered in the lounge for the Captain’s Farewell celebration. Here we toasted to our successful trip. We then got to enjoy watching the Slideshow made by Gabi, which really showcased everything we had done on this epic adventure.

We gathered in the restaurant for a final dinner together. Here we got to meet some of the crew who work behind the scenes in the galley, laundry, and hotel departments.

We stayed up late, making the most of the remaining time with our new friends, reminiscing about our time, and sharing photos. We reluctantly peeled away to our cabins to finish packing and sleep, ready for travelling in the morning.

Pippa woke us up for the final time and having packed up our bags we made our way to the restaurant. While we had our final breakfast the expedition team took our luggage down to the pier. We said goodbye to the crew and staff and the new friends we had made and set off. Some of us were heading home and some were moving on to their next travels. Entering the city of Ushuaia was surreal having been in such remote and wild locations for the last nineteen days. We had seen mountains, waves, whales, seals, seabirds, penguins, old whaling stations, beautiful beaches, and been immersed in nature at it most raw and wild. We boarded planes, taxis, buses, and entered hotels, ever changed by this once in a lifetime experience.