Jacobs Island: Neverland

So camping turned out to be one of those unforgettable, amazing experiences that I won't do justice in my description.  But, if I were to convey one thing about the adventure, it would be that each of these islands is so much more dynamic than they appear to be from even a short distance away.  It was so incredible to get off on the island and be met with all of these unique and beautiful details that seemed unlike anything I had seen before.  But, I will back up and start from the beginning.
      All Saturday afternoon, it looked like the trip might fall through, and then suddenly at dinner, one of the enthusiasts came up to me and said, "How about Jacobs Island?"  I said that it sounded great, not actually knowing where it was or what merits it had.  Apparently, there was a good camping spot in a "crack" in the rocks and a notable tidepool that was also a source of excitement.  So, thirty minutes later, we loaded our gear into our boat and set off.  The island turned out to be nestled in an area that our water sampling had not taken us to, so my eyes were already taking in the new sights.  The sea had become a little "swelly," as it is affectionately called, and we buzzed around for a while looking for a safe landing spot.  Well, unfortunately, landing spots are not something that one should settle for, but settle we did, and it did not pay off.  I was the second to get off and just after I scampered up the boulders, a larger swelly swell pushed the boat up onto some partially exposed rocks!  Hmmm.... you don't usually see these folks making these kinds of mistakes!  Well, the guys we were to camp with eventually managed to get the boat straightened out and all of the right passengers on and off so that our taxi chauffers could go home with the boat.  They all promised not to speak of the incident to anyone!  Nobody is perfect, I guess.
       Once our boat left us on the rocks with all of our gear, we started hunting around for the praised crack.  The first large gap in the rocks looked like a great spot, minus the groggy elephant seal covered in doodoo.  We searched on.  Once we climbed to the higher rock plateaus, we took a moment to take in the scenery and just then, a humpback surfaced in the channel directly in front of us.  We all "Wowed" and confirmed that it wasn't just the one, but a momma and baby pair.  The five of us stood there quietly watching and listening to everything around us until it disappeared from sight.
       Now back to the search.... We continued to clamber around on the island, pretty joyously I might add, until we found another suitable place to haul our gear to.  We set up camp and then I scurried off with my camera to catch the sunset light.  I knew I would vanish so I told the rest of the crew not to worry.  I explored very excitedly, hopping from boulder to boulder back to the waters edge.  I first came across a beautiful chinstrap penguin basking in the sun.  Next I came to a cove with three (THREE!!) different seals that were settling in for the evening.  I first noticed the big dark brown one and thought, Oh, a sea lion!  And then I remembered that I'm not in Kansas anymore.  No, that's a fur seal!  I'm not sure which species it was because Southern fur seals have expanded their range from Australia and New Zealand to include Antarctic waters that have been warming up in recent decades.  On either side of the fur seal were two Weddell seals (I think!), one big and fat, the other young and slender.  Even though they were all just resting, it was so exciting for me, because even in their dullest moments, I don't think these animals could ever get old for me.

         After I watched them for a while, the sun had set and I decided it was time to find the rest of the group again.  The bottle of wine had survived the dramatic landing and was chilled and ready.  We sat on the rocks, talked, and enjoyed the dusk.  Once it got colder, we passed around a thermos of hot chocolate and heard stories of what it is like to "winter over" at McMurdo station much farther south on the mainland.  Aside from the incredible nacreous clouds (clouds of ice particles high up in the atmosphere act as prisms when they catch the morning light), another much less enjoyable winter phenomenon is dulled conversations.  Apparently one's brain actually functions more slowly with repeated exposure to extreme cold because a certain neurotransmitter no longer gets produced.  Our friend Rex described it as an uncomfortable experience to witness people drifting in and out of conversations during meal times and to feel your own mental faculties declining.
          Those odd stories were accompanied by the personal trajectories that brought each of our companeros to Antarctica.  Hearing how and why people came and chose to stay here has been a continual source of interest for me because I keep searching for a label or stereotype to explain why someone would know to seek out this lifestyle.  I have found none, which has led me to the conclusion that these people, for the most part, hear of these opportunities and perhaps accept the positions out of curiosity and then simply fall in love.  We stargazed at a few satellites and then I realized it had gotten too cold not to retreat to the tent.  I shivered and deep-breathed for about twenty minutes (I blame the oversized sleeping bag!) but eventually fell asleep to the sounds of the water all around us.

         I awoke bright and early in the morning and was ready to warm up my blood and take my camera for another spin.  I was drawn back to the sleeping seals and then ambled on toward the tidepool area that was experiencing some pretty big waves!  I won't relay all of my adventures that morning, because I circled the whole island!  I will say, however, that it was so so much fun to be out there by myself.  I almost felt like an explorer.  I kept being surprised by the heterogeneity of the island.  Each sight was so dynamic, with stillness to one side and crashing waves on the other.  Mossy crannies were abutted with granite rocks and thousands of empty limpet shells were scattered across the rocks where the huge petrels make their nests.
         I cannot talk about this island without mentioning the birds.  Oh, the birds!  The petrels are large, quiet, and scare easily, which presents only a small problem for oblivious adventurers.  After I scared a few mommas off their nests, I started peeking around corners and above rocks more carefully before proceeding into uncharted territory.  However, I must introduce you to the avian doberman pinscher.  Meet the skua.  Skuas are extremely territorial and guard their nesting areas by divebombing intruders while squawking loudly.  I will just let you imagine my plight.  Darn birds.

         Needless to say, I had a fantastic morning.  It was raw nature at it's most innocent and I loved being a visitor to it, even if ignorant to certain invisible boundary lines.  I returned to our campsite and realized that the guys were still asleep, outside their tent on the rocks.  Crazy.  They were all awakened when the station radioed in to check up on the "Marooned 5."  Breakfast burritos ensued, followed by a crazy wind-whipped ride home in what the boating coordinator called "waves like a rodeo."  A great time was had by all.