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Seal of Approval by Trystan
The Melchior Islands are a small gathering near the eastern edge of the Drake Passage. As our final outing, the Melchior cruise was a perfect finale to our Antarctic journey. Ship's historian Ian was our zodiac driver, and he gave us another wild ride. First we visited Weddell City -- an icy tract with a dozen Weddell seals in residence. Mostly the seals didn't care about us noisy humans clicking our cameras at them. But one seal decided to take our leave, then stuck her nose out at us from underwater.
 
In the main channel, we drove between two flat bergs, each topped with a different type of seal. One had a Leopard seal with dinosaur smile; the other had a silvery recumbent Crab-Eater seal.
Further on, Ian drove right up on top of an iceberg. Well, it was a U-shaped berg, and he drove over the submerged middle part. It was splendid, all that radiant turquoise blue, like that fake blue painted on the bottom of swimming pools, but real. At the edges of the berg, near the old tide lines from before it flipped over, you could see the most marvelous light. The ice glowed neon blue from inside, like a Vegas trick. The pockmarked surface showed that what was now above water had recently been under. We got close enough to touch it and feel the icy, melting roughness.
In an open bay between the islands, we spied a large tabular iceberg. These are the flat-topped bergs that broke off glaciers all in one, giant chunk. In the distance it towered like a squared, six-story building -- some modern, opaque-glass construction, solid and austere. But as the zodiac rounded the corner, we discovered that the dense table had a giant scoop taken out of it. The berg wasn't a block at all! It was a thin, exquisite cove inside a square box. A sweep of crisp, blue ice made a narrow beach inside, and we could clearly see the bottom of the ice underwater.
Much like Deception Island, this iceberg appeared to offer only a cold, hard face to the casual observer. But on the other side was a dazzling world of blue and white, a hidden villa of ancient snow. I felt as if we'd been let in on a little secret. Antarctica had opened herself, just a little, to us. We'd glimpsed behind the harsh curtain and found the splendor within. This land is the pearl in the shell. The isolation, distance, and bitter cold are the ugly oyster. But if fortune smiles, you'll pry open the shell to discover the rare gem inside. There is so much beauty here, it is overwhelming and humbling.
I feel terribly lucky, not just for the excellent, clear weather we've had, but to be able to come here at all. No longer is the journey so hazardous as in Shackleton's day. The hardship isn't physical, it's simply financial. Yet we're not rich by American standards. And only a few of our fellow travelers seem to be very wealthy. There are plenty of people who can afford this as well as us, but they don't go. In addition to the cash, it requires a certain kind of madness to take this trip. Not quite the Heroic Explorer Disease of Scott, Amundsen, et. al., but some pale imitation. There is something that drives us to come here, and when we arrive, we know exactly why we came.
It is a wild, woolly place, also elegant and sublime. It is so many superlatives, and so completely unique, my words are inadequate. Film can't capture the feeling of being here. Oh, we try, we try. Nearly 2,000 digital pictures and a journal's worth of words, but still I haven't pinned it down. Perhaps that's the appeal. Antarctica cannot be pinned down. For all the scientific work here, it still can't be quantified and analyzed, categorized and labeled. This is natural wildness, nothing to do with humankind's effects and achievements. More so than any natural place I've seen, this is unchanged and pure.
Yosemite is a grand cathedral of nature, but it's overrun with people, as are so many other U.S. parks. Kauai has some isolation, but tons of people fill the Na Pali Coast trail year after year. Throughout the Hawaiian islands, there's a tourist-filled beach only a few miles away. In my own backyard, the Sierra Nevadas are imposing and grand, but they're traversed with highways. All the wild places I've seen of the U.K., Ireland, and France are still close to civilization. I suppose Alaska and Canada have true wilderness, but I doubt they feel as perfectly remote as this. In the Great White South, only a rare, and often abandoned, tiny station reminds you that humans exist. Antarctica is unlike any other place on this earth. It is the last frontier, the last untouched land, the last pure spot on our planet. And I devoutly hope that it can stay this way for generations to come.
When You Go: Just go! Antarctica is entirely worth the expense and trouble. Even if you've been around the world ten times already, you've never been anywhere quite like Antarctica. See It Now: Our Antarctica DVD shows the Melchior Islands, the Weddells, and more for only $14.99! Or add a New Year's Eve party in Rio de Janeiro with our Antarctica and Rio DVD for $19.99 -- that's a $25 value over the separate DVDs.
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