As the sun rose on 8 March, it painted the grassy slopes of South Georgia Island a deep golden color, and dropped a hint of a rainbow into the offshore mist. As I snapped a photo of this splendid sight, I knew we were in for an incredible day. Our first stop: Ocean Harbour, which had once been home to a sealing and whaling operation. In the bay is the derelict wreck of the three-masted ship Bayard, once a cargo ship that sailed the world from India to Fiji and from South Africa to South Georgia, but now home to hundreds of nesting shag; and an old hut, now home to visiting researchers.
We set out to hike up into the hills surrounding the bay. Read on and be sure to check out the photo gallery.
As we landed on the stony beach, dozens of playful fur seal pups bobbed in the water and waddled along the shore to investigate us. I picked through the rocks and discovered bits of coal, the remnants of what had once been vast stores of coal used to heat sealpots and run the machinery for sealing and whaling. The grassy glacial plain ahead of us seemed peaceful in the sunny morning breeze, dotted with fur seals and wildflowers. We peeked inside the brick hut, a simple one-room affair now used by researchers when they need to bunk over for a few days. It was decorated with reindeer antlers, harkening back to the days when there was a wild herd of reindeer in this valley – introduced by the Norwegian whalers as a source of meat and sport, but later wreaking havoc on the fragile ecosystem of South Georgia. They were successfully eradicated only in the past decade.
We enjoyed panoramic views of the bay and surrounding peaks on this blue-sky day. As we walked, I noticed one of the lifeboats drop slowly from the Endurance and motor around the bay a few times: the crew was running evacuation exercises. [Later, when I returned to my cabin, I watched them winch it back into place.]
There are no trails here – all hikes are simply cross-country in open terrain. The descent from the hillside was steep, down a slippery grassy slope and then across a tricky patch of tussock (grass taller than people, in which the elephant and fur seals like to rest and wallow). One woman in our party had the misfortune of stumbling into the muddy wallow of an elephant seal – twice – and came out looking rather worse for the wear. (Keep in mind that mud is not the only thing a seal leaves behind in these gloppy pits.) I refrained from snapping photos and stepped aside to offer her a spot on the first Zodiac back to the ship.
Don’t miss the photo gallery, including an incredible mid-day panoramic view of the island after we left Ocean Harbour toward St. Andrews Bay.
David Kotz 