At around 5 a.m. Shackleton put another trick out of his leadership bag. With the full moon for guidance across the Murray Icefields his men came to near exhaustion when they were approaching yet another ridge. They were heading for a gap ‘like a missing tooth’. They were barely able to move one foot in front of the other, so Shackleton suggested a quick snooze. Despite the cold the other two immediately fell asleep but Shackleton stayed awake, afraid if he would fall asleep they would all freeze to dead. After five minutes he shook them awake and told them the slept 30 minutes. Energized by the psychology of rest, they run up the slope, straddling a little pass that drops into Fortuna Bay on the other side. We could only pull the sledges behind us a little ways before it became too steep and start pulling us back down. We yank an iceaxe behind the sled to prevent it from sliding backwards and booted up to the notch. From there we hauled the sleds up the notch and belayed them down the other side. We curse the sleds, how much easier it would be if we just had a little backpack, and do you really need all this stuff in your sled anyway?
The powerful wind forces itself through the little notch and it is hard to just stand up straight. This ridge is now called Breakwind Ridge. In front is the Bay of Fortuna and if you listen careful you hear the furseals calling – and further down there are icebergs floating in Stromness Bay. Shackleton must have been elated – he recognized the zigzag stripes in the rock that mark Stromness Bay. But the moment in the odyssey came when they stopped later for breakfast ‘hoosh’ exactly at 7 a.m., timed on their chronometer they slepped all the way from when the Endurance had sank. They heard the whistle of the whaling station in Stromness ordering the people to start to work. ‘Never’ wrote Shackleton ‘had any of us heard sweeter music. It was the first sound created by outside human agency that had come to our ears since we left Stromness Bay in December 1914. While Shackleton must have lived off adrenaline now with the knowledge help is around the corner, for us the toughest part of the adventure is still to come. We ski with our sleds on the other side of the hill and make our way to the steep gully that separates us from the breakwind pass and the beach at Fortuna. We take a quick break and put on our crampons to continue down the steep glacier in the gully. Axel was most worried about this part of the trip because with bleak snow conditions this could easily be blank ice and non-negotiable and then we would be stuck with no real escape route.
At the end of the snow gully we scouted the way down through the ravine. There was no ice to be seen instead we run into raging whitewater cascading over rocks and sometimes disappearing underneath a snowfield. With all our stuff still above, we decided we could only take the most necessary things down, like some food, a tent, sleeping bag and skis and sleds will have to stay up there. We fill our backpacks with what we could and descended on the exposed rocks next to the river until we found a path where we could walk down to a bench overlooking Fortuna Beach. Again another long day but luckily the wind quit and with the smelly grass and noisy wildlife below set in salty air, it felt we entered a first summer day from the frozen icy interior of South Georgia. The next morning help came from the ship and assisted us with carrying the remaining gear back down the gully. Even though we had our own unknowns and hardship due to difficult conditions on the route, we all felt in awe in what Shackelton was able to achieve in just 36 hours with only the haziest knowledge of what they would find and no proper equipment – they did it on pure will and responsibility to get the entire team back safe.

Stromness as Shackleton seen it from the last rock band

It is hard to say how much we really slept that night with thoughts of the other team up the ridge really getting the brunt of the storm and our annoying tent flapping irritating enough to wake us up every so often. At 7 am we see the guides standing on top of the ridge and pacing left to right, studying a way down. At 9 a.m. Walter gives the decisive message on the phone that they are escaping to Possession Bay unable to find a way down the other gully and 5 tents out of 7 were broken during the night in the storm. I feel sadness we can’t finish the trip as a team, all their training, their great attitude and motivation and now they have to escape to Possession Bay but neither can I think of all of them risking coming down the same slope as we did without some major incident. Unlike Shackleton we have the security of a ship being close by and many people who are following us online should things go wrong. But we still have to make and live with our own decisions up here, which we make with the best input. And once we make one – you have to stick with it. Zigzagging a line through the crevasses that have been snow covered in 1916 got us scared to continue ourselves. Chris wanted to turn around and climb back up the Trident but that didn’t sit well with us. I rather risk falling through a crack than breaking my back going up a steep hill with a sled. We agreed to continue. The snow between the icy strips of the Crean glacier is where hidden traps lure underneath and with ski poles turned upside down we poke carefully for emptiness. Thankfully we are on ski’s although this is just a bit more secure than without. We didn’t stop, too afraid of the weather turning south on us again and we didn’t want to be trapped in this crevasse labyrinth with no visibility. Tino’s sled was top heavy that with each sharp turn the sled plopped upside down which prompted us to stop until he had it turned. A series of blue lakes, glacier-melting ponds show us that we are too late doing this for this time of the year and wonder if we are going to make it through. At a gravel bar we took our first break of the day and drank from my thermos. My GPS said we skied 8 km from camp but our detours probably added another 5 km to the totals. A few more sections required a tight rope between us but once we got through snow bridges straddling crevasses, we felt we got to safety when we reached the other side and we started our uphill on the Murray Icefields. Halfway up, wind blowing in our face, we relaxed and took our second break. It was 6 p.m. We had arrived at a series of nunatuks were previous expeditions had camped before. Our bodies were sore and thirsty for fluids but by now the weather had completely cleared, wind calmed down and South Georgia turned into a lovely friendly place. Shackleton passed the nunatuks and from here you can see in the Bay below. At midnight he mistook it for Stromness Bay with only moonlight for guidance. But once he was on yet another glacier with crevasses, he remembered that Fortuna didn’t have a glacier and fearful of the chaotic icefall into the bay, they reluctantly again retraced their track “and climb again to previously hard-won heights”. Staring down into the Antarctica Bay we notice we need to stay high to avoid a new crevasse field and I see how this could have confused Shackleton and how disappointed he may have been to yet again not seeing Stromness. We see the missing tooth in the peaks in front of us and decided that this had to be the pass over which we climb to Fortuna Bay the next morning. A few more hours of skiing down to a flat spot where we can easily set a tent and study the situation for tomorrow when we face the last hurdle of the crossing. The wind picks up and within seconds it starts to howl over the glacier. It takes all 5 of us to set up one tent. Peter takes a waste bag and shovels snow in the bag so we don’t have to go out again if we need to boil more water. Axel is perplexed that the snow doesn’t melt but turns into a hot gel. We theorize what this could be but can’t think of any reason why this is happening. We mix the strange snow mixture with our meals and eat it anyway. Later we find out that the waste bags are mixed with some chemicals and we just consumed a hefty dose of it. By midnight we fall asleep as the wind quiets down for the night.

bare Crean glacier in December

Around 3 pm we called off our attempt to descend the Trident with the entire group. Five of us, Axel, Chris, Tino, Peter and myself were too far down with our sleds to climb back up. A 30 degree slope is simply too hard . Walter and Gudrun stayed on top with the two groups (19 people in total) and decided to evaluate early morning how to proceed.  Both teams were exhausted from hauling sleds up the slopes and welcomed a rest anyway. They figured they could have a morning of evaluating the situation before belaying 19 people down this difficult slope. Sometimes we sank halfway through our thighs in the snow while hundred meters later we came across a complete bare part of the glacier and  had to put on our crampons to continue, every minute was different. It is hard to believe that Shackleton simply slide down this slope, he couldn’t have done this today, he would have disappeared in one of many great abysses! We continue to bring our sledges further down carefully, negotiated a few crevasses that run the entire length. Fog is rolling in from the sea and spits raindrops. Within minutes we are soaking wet but we must continue. My down gloves droop around my hands and become useless and I take them off. Rain makes the experience more miserable; why can’t it just snow? Meanwhile it is getting later, pushing 7 p.m. and we still do not know how far down we can go without being roped. We try to work fast and have a person at each station that can lower the sleds and down climb at the same time. It all proves more complicated and the process is very slow. Once we are all down to a band of rocks, Tino stepped from the snow right into another crevasse up his armpits. It freaks him out. Obviously it is a lot more dangerous then we thought it was going to be and we are glad it is just the five of us and not 24 in this minefield of crevasses. Finally we were able to get down a snow slope and run downhill behind our sleds to the bottom before darkness hits. We missed our 7 p.m. check in with the ship. Now it is 8:30 p.m. The place to pitch the tent wasn’t exactly flat but given our tiredness and upcoming darkness it will have to do. Peter and Axel set up the tent while I started to boil water for drinks and food. The wind had picked up and a cool breeze from the glaciers rushes down.  I record the GPS coordinates to the ship and tell them our groups have separated and I will update the next morning. At bedtime  I finally talk to Walter on the ridge and tell him to check out a different gully to come down in the morning. The lenticular clouds earlier transform into a storm overnight and at 3 am we are holding our tent poles firm preventing them from snapping. Technically, it may not be considered Antarctica  but South Georgia has its own bad climate. Chris yells from the other tent to try calling Walter again at 4 a.m. He won’t have his phone on I respond but little did I know he has his own set of problems to deal with up at the Trident Ridge.

the next morning at the base of the Trident

Joe from the other group is not doing very well. His stomach problems continue and need to have his gear divided by other team members. Breaking up camp takes 2 hours and before we leave I call in the coordinates of our position to the captain of our ship. The glacier leading up to the Shackleton gap is bare and we put on our crampons, climbing and pulling our sledges faithfully behind us. There is no gentile slope here, everything is straight up the hill. The visibility is marginal but as we ascend, the fog is lifting and exposing a fantastic King Hakoon Bay. Ahead the Shackleton gap is still shrouded in mist and we take several GPS readings to get our bearings. The sun pokes through the clouds and we start to see a defining ridge marking our route. Soon after we arrived at the Gap, clouds lifted completely and reveals water to the other side of the gap. Shackleton descended for one hour but realized he stared into Procession Bay instead of Stromness. Even though a small whaling station should be there, it was too risky to find out if anyone home. Retracing his steps he realized he had many more passes and mountains to cross to get the Eastern station and had to change his route and travel greater distances to the East. Every 10 minutes someone is tugging on the rope followed by yelling “stop”. Someone got tangled, or need to take off clothes or a sip of water. It was impossible to get in sink with each other. It is tough on them, no matter how well you train, pulling a sled uphill is done more by character then by fitness. A previous expedition camped above us on the Murray Snowfield and reported the conditions to be excellent for skiing. What a difference a few months can make. I look at my GPS and notice we already climbed 400 meters this morning – not bad for a start of the trip.
Pulling the sledges up hill takes a toll on some. Blisters on the feet are forming and some run out of breathe. Once we reach a rocky outcrop, a nunatak, we break for tea and a snack. This also allows us to see where the Trident crossing exactly is, because it is one of the bottlenecks of the trip. The ridge ahead is made up of fingers or gendarmes with steep snowy passes in between. The four saddles are clearly visible and just like Shackleton we are tempted to take the easier lower saddle. But we know from other ski teams, the steeper saddle is the right one. Shackleton tried two other saddles but they are much of the same. To safe time, he walked straight to the last saddle and unfortunately not much different but they run out of options. When Shackleton got there he wrote “the outlook is disappointing”. They stare in the abysses of bare raw glaciers, fog rolled in, visibility was poor and they couldn’t see the bottom of the steep slope of the Trident. They started carefully, hacking steps with an axe, roped together. But it was taking too long. Anxious about losing time, they cling together on each other’s waist and slid down to the bottom of the glacier.
The rush they must have felt when they slide down a 400 meter steep slope and survive it and taking this risk so in the final steps of their rescue attempt.
Meanwhile we arrived at the lip of the Trident. A previous trip reported it took them 7 hours to get down the slope, which we found hard to believe it seems so slow!
Little did we know it was going to take us as long as them and that was with the five of us. And mostly guides.
The idea of swinging our sleds in front and then simply walk behind them down the slope seemed like a brilliant idea. We decided that all guides were going first to built stations to rappel from.Once a routine is established we hope to quickly lower the sleds and the people. Axel sounded worried, the Trident was loaded with crevasses and with such little snow they were going to cause lots of trouble and delay. Axel made an anchor with his ski’s and belayed himself to investigate further. Next Chris came down without a sled, then Gudrun and myself. Walter stayed up to belay the group from above. Meanwhile I arrived at the second stage and tied myself to the rope to get lower down the slope. Only a few steps from the belay station down, I fell through a hidden crevasse up until my armpits. My legs were dangling free but I didn’t waist any time and got right back on the snow.. I made it to Axel and we discussed how difficult it would be to get the entire group down without any incidents.

Trident looking back from a treacherous 5 hour climb down the glacier

Part 2
We arrive in a drizzly fog in King Hakoon Bay. Heading for Peggoty bluff , the exact landing place of Shackleton but the sea is too rough for an attempt to land here. When Shackleton’s men turned the James Caird upside down for shelter, lay in the tussock grass and drink gallons of fresh water from a stream, it must have felt like heaven after being on the seas for 16 days. After being dropped off, the Plancius immediately sailed to the more sheltered west coast bays of the island. It took 3 zodiacs with all our gear and two zodiacs with just our group on board. The zodiac ride was already an extreme event. There are the mean fur seals who bite a hole in the boat if they reach it. Then there are waves on shore and off shore soaking you and your equipment before you even land. But trust the Russians to get the job done. All you do is yank the zodiac full force onto the beach to keep your feet dry, never mind the head rush you get from it. Clouds were spitting raindrops and we got wet in a hurry. Wind picked up and South Georgia warns us for its power. We need to drag our sleds over rocks before we get to the snow and are uncertain how long this will take. It is late in the season and the lack of snow on the glaciers will challenge us. The wind is hauling and the sky is clearing, but it won’t matter we are finally after 3 days on the ship (and being seasick) on our way to do the Shackleton traverse. Team Experis members are in a jovial mood –their anticipation and anxiety dissipate as we starting to move our bodies. Another commercial group is also doing the traverse guided by a Gudrun Weikert – a group of 6 individuals with all different nationalities. We camped the first night at the edge of the glacier on the rocks where we had a first experience of setting up our tents and camping. No problems for Team Experis; they already have the routine down in a hurry and within minutes they were inside the tents, giggling and joking away until fatigue ruled and we announced a wakeup call for 5 am.

South Georgia is one of the most remote islands on earth, a pinprick in the vast emptiness of the Southern Ocean, 850 miles from the Falkland Islands. It is a mountain paradise for climbers and glaciers flowing from almost 10,000 feet to the sea where they calve off icebergs set off to float in the Antarctic waters. Where the glaciers have retreated and rocks are scoured smooth you find thousands of penguins, albatrosses and seals competing for every inch of space in one of the worlds greatest wildlife displays. I consider myself lucky that Shackleton choose this island to cross to reach a whaling station in Stromness and not some island in the South Shetlands. On the Plancius I was forewarned about the veracious weather, about the katabatic winds that race from the high ice plateau to the coast with speeds up to 100 km/hour where no human can stand a chance. Despite it sitting at 54° of latitude this is actually a miniature Antarctica. The Antarctic convergence and the roaring 50’s ocean currents are all around us, dominating the weather patterns on this 140 km long island. South Georgia is submissive to all the violence the ocean throws at you and this means fair weather never stays too long.
We are on our way, 15 of us, to retrace the journey of Shackleton who after being stuck on the ice because his ship the Endurance sank in the Weddell Sea in 1914 and was forced to save his crew of 17 men who he had left behind on Elephant Island after a rowing epic across the Scotia Sea. Continuing rowing 600 miles across to South Georgia, he landed on the wrong side of the island but was too scared to get back in the boat and row to the east side, worried he would miss the landing and the boat would be swept away by a strong current into the sea. His only option is to go overland into the interior of South Georgia but is clueless how many glaciers and mountains he has to cross. The map the whalers gave him had details of the coastline but not of the interior. Shackleton knew of some whaling stations on the other (calmer) side of South Georgia and that was his sole option for a rescue. So off he went with two others, nails pounded under their boots for safety and enough ‘hoosh’ for a quick meal but no sleeping bags or tents—counting to get to help soon.

At the sight of the Falklands in the distance, dozens of dolphins swam to our boat to greet us. The air is warm and the smell of green summer grass on the shore somewhat strange on an Antarctic trip. Only 1000 km of sailing, crossing the convergence of currents, and we are back in the moderate latitudes again. It is bizarre to see penguins and seals here as well as albatrosses and common birds of Patagonia. In my mind penguins belong on a piece of ice not in a meadow. The first island we visit is called Steeple Jason, a rarely visited place due to its inaccessibility. The birders with checklist in hand eager to see the Kara Kara – a bird of prey and one the rarest birds in the world. Because so few humans actually come here, the birds are not afraid and are curious about us. The moment you walked off, they checked out your lifejacket or the straps of your backpack or steel anything with a bright color. In the afternoon we visited West Point Island, home to the largest colony of black eyed Albatrosses and Rock Hopper penguins. It was a wonderful hike of 4km over the grassy headlands with views of the ocean on both sides. Residents of West Point Island prepared a proper high tea with the typical british cakes and scones, enough for an entire army. A BBQ on board with dolphins chasing our boat on a swell warm night made this day surprisingly complete. Next was Carcass island with many gentoo penguins on the beach and and finishing it off with a visit to Saunders Island where we completed the checklist of all the six species of penguins. We watch gentoo penguin eggs hatching and as the mother frantically guards the chick other birds are already waiting for a mishap. If the chick falls out the nest, the mother doesn’t go and fetch it, it will stay in its nest to hatch the other egg. Sadly we saw a little chick getting trampled by other penguins and slowly watched it die. Such is the harsh reality of a penguin rookery where it is not only competition and fighting among the penguins, but the moment they let down their guard, many birds are waiting to steal eggs or chicks. This is the end of this trip. Lucky with all the wildlife viewing and fair weather days, I think everybody will go home and won’t complain about Antarctica. If only they would know how it really can be out there.

The night didn’t look so promising for us to think of a landing on Elephant Island. The fog had settled in, wind picked up and the snow started to spit on deck. Delphine, the expedition leader of this ship mentioned she was only able to land on Elephant Island a few times before. The surge is either too big for the zodiacs to land or the weather is too nasty or a combination of both. Alarm is set for 4 AM and Allison ( my Falkland Island roommate) and I look outside our peephole into a brilliantly blue summer Antarctic morning. With a great haste we collect our kit and out we go with the first zodiac for staff to recon the area. I immediately like this island. On one side it is heavily glaciated with peaks and glaciers drooping in the ocean and the other side is dry and jagged where cormorants and penguins have moved in. We find a protected beach and jump on shore. You immediately wonder if Shackleton could have landed here because their stay would have been much more pleasant then on the north side. Elephant Island got its name from British sailors because of its abundance of Elephant seals. Even now I count 18 seals laying around amid thousands of chinstrap penguins busy carrying rocks to their nests. Shackleton left 22 of his men here on the island while he rowed an additional 800 km to South Georgia to find help at a whaling station. They survived in turned up boats eating penguins and melting snow from the glacier while everyday Frank Wild who was in charge of this crew would yell to keep the place tidy because the boss may show up today. And after 135 days he did on August 30 1916. Even though it is much nicer to be on land then on ice – still boredom sets in quickly in a place so rugged you can’t even go for a stroll. From our beach I walk on 2000 year old moss and peat to the base of the glacier. It is nice to get a bit of a walk and wish I have my skis for a quick tour to the summit of this snowcapped mountain. You can tell the glacier used to run all the way to sea where it is now of shiny and smooth rock. I bet in a few years this glacier will be gone completely. Most of our guests are checking out the elephant seals yawning, snorting and hissing when you get to close. A quick zodiac cruise around macaroni colony and then back on the ship to start our sailing to the Falklands. This will take 3 days and yes again crossing the Drake. Between all our 3 course meals some of us are doing laps around deck 4 to get a bit of exercise; 10 laps is one mile and if you include the stairs you can add a bit of cardio to the routine.
But of course being on a ship like this is deadly for the figure and your condition. The captain showed on the weather charts that on wednesday a new storm system may reach our area with winds up to 45 knots. Hopefully we are safe in the harbor of Port Stanley by then.

If there are crazy places to live in the world then the Argentinian station Esperanza ought to be one of them. Situated on the northernmost tip of the Peninsula, Hope Bay is also home to the biggest Adelie Penguin colony in Antarctica – 125.000 pairs. The station was built in 1951 and expanded in 1978 and women and children start to reside as part of an effort to establish sovereignty over Antarctica. At this station is also where the first child is born in Antarctica in 1978. How cool is that to say you are born in Antarctica? The station is year round occupied but there are only a few families living here – 55 people in total. The houses are bright orange, saying something about how many blizzards they get here in the winter. There is a chapel, school, casino, bar, hospital and a shelter to hide from the wind. Sometimes they go out on rescue missions cruising around in the bay but most of the time they are involved in maintenance since living out there is brutal and they have to be self-sufficient. The last supply boat was in January of this year and the last visitors in February (also Oceanwide). When we got to their base, a bunch of them went to our ship searching for fresh fruits and anything but tin and dried goods. The kitchen staff told me later they had to ration them on how many banana’s they could eat. Most stay on for one year and then a new shift comes along with a year worth of supplies. Besides making a statement for Argentina, they also have 3 scientists here studying penguins but according to the “El commandante” they are never there. We stamped a 100 passports, guests bought loads of souvenirs and you can send a postcard with a stamp of a penguin. Some of us received sms messages on their phones because the base has a strong satellite system. I am curious as to how much a message would cost to receive. After our visit we went back again to the ship, ate yet another gourmet meal for lunch and start sailing for Elephant Island. Estimated arrival time: 2 A.M.

If there are crazy places to live in the world then the Argentinian station Esperanza ought to be one of them. Situated on the northernmost tip of the Peninsula, Hope Bay is also home to the biggest Adelie Penguin colony in Antarctica – 125.000 pairs. The station was built in 1951 and expanded in 1978 and women and children start to reside as part of an effort to establish sovereignty over Antarctica. At this station is also where the first child is born in Antarctica in 1978. How cool is that to say you are born in Antarctica? The station is year round occupied but there are only a few families living here – 55 people in total. The houses are bright orange, saying something about how many blizzards they get here in the winter. There is a chapel, school, casino, bar, hospital and a shelter to hide from the wind. Sometimes they go out on rescue missions cruising around in the bay but most of the time they are involved in maintenance since living out there is brutal and they have to be self-sufficient. The last supply boat was in January of this year and the last visitors in February (also Oceanwide). When we got to their base, a bunch of them went to our ship searching for fresh fruits and anything but tin and dried goods. The kitchen staff told me later they had to ration them on how many banana’s they could eat. Most stay on for one year and then a new shift comes along with a year worth of supplies. Besides making a statement for Argentina, they also have 3 scientists here studying penguins but according to the “El commandante” they are never there. We stamped a 100 passports, guests bought loads of souvenirs and you can send a postcard with a stamp of a penguin. Some of us received sms messages on their phones because the base has a strong satellite system. I am curious as to how much a message would cost to receive.  After our visit we went back again to the ship, ate yet another gourmet meal for lunch and start sailing for Elephant Island. Estimated arrival time: 2 A.M.