December 26th: Detaille Island and "The Gullet"

 Day 5: Dec 26th

Could today trump yesterday? Um... apparently it could and we didn't even get off the ship!

Moody skies and city-block sized icebergs frame gargantuan mountains. I mean, these things rise 5000+ feet from the bays, passages and ocean waters to the sky. Shear cliffs, glaciers and wind-swept peaks take one's breath away again and again. I live at the base of the Rocky Mountains and still have trouble describing the mountains of Antarctica. Using the word "indescribable" just seems lame but pictures can't do them justice either. 

Detaille Island was magnificent. Untouched, unspoiled, ruggedly gorgeous. An untamed animal. 

As the day warmed up and the sun broke through, the fog moved off in wisps and waves. Layers of eye candy for this gal who delights in how the sky in all its colorful, breathy glory, adds to a picture. 

We crossed south of the Antarctic Circle around 9:30am-ish this morning! Yet another reason to celebrate aboard the Ocean Endeavour.

As a consequence of the weather's changing mood out there, the swell was 6-10' and as it drenched the underpants of the gangway crew, the decision was made to spare the passengers and motor off to a new destination. 

There was a rumor (2 days old) the "gullet" might be passable. A chance Captain Alexi was willing to take - The Gullet had not be navigated by this or other vessels of this nature in about 7 years. Few of our crew had ever been this way... this far south... or had this good weather EVER and everyone was excited. 

Successfully navigating this narrow channel would take 4-6 hours and and yes, ice bergs were going faster than our vessel as Steve pointed out - but the alternative was a 17 journey around Adelaide Island, using more of our precious time and burning more fuel.

The journey was a spectacular one. No landing could have competed with this and I was not the only one who felt that dinner (as great as it was) pulled us indoors when we simply wanted to stay outside tonight. Did I forget to mention it's light here all the time?  Like... All. The. Time. The sun technically dips below the horizon between about 11pm and 1-2am, but not enough to turn the lights out. It's just dusky. Beautifully, softly dusky.

Aptly pointed out by Jonathan; You can sleep when you are dead.