Journal: Right Whale Bay, South Georgia Island, January 6

Antarctic fur seal colony, on a sand beach alongside Right Whale Bay, with the mountains of South Georgia Island in the background, sunset. Image ID: 24315   Species: Antarctic Fur Seal, Arctocephalus gazella Location: Right Whale Bay, South Georgia Island

Upon reaching South Georgia Island late in the day today, we made straight for Elsehul, a small bay at the north end of the island. The island is rugged, with sea cliffs rising almost vertically from the ocean. The peaks above, some of which are hidden in clouds, ranging to over 9,000′. They are covered in snow and glaciers. I am eager to see them in sunlight since its obvious they will be even more impressive and beautiful then. Glaciers lead from the peaks down almost to sea level, and it is clear that the glaciers are what has formed the bays and coves. Gray-headed albatrosses are seen here, the first of the trip, flying alongside the boat and about the cliffs at Elsehul upon which they nest. More Antarctic fur seals are found swimming in the waters of the bay. The beaches, however, were so plugged with fur seals that a landing at Elsehul was judged untenable, so we moved down the coast a ways to Right Whale Bay. After dinner the staff surveyed the beaches within Right Whale Bay and decided that there was room for us to land without disturbing the inhabitants, so at 7:30 pm we made for shore. Antarctic fur seals (Arctocephalus gazella) cover this beach too (a common theme for the trip, as we shall see). At our landing spot there are many bull fur seals (adult males) managing their harems of females. Occasionally a bachelor male will move too close to a harem, perhaps hoping to pick off one of the females on the outskirts and and try for a quick opportunity at mating, but usually the harem’s bull will quickly chase the interloper away.

Antarctic fur seals, adult male bull and female, illustrating extreme sexual dimorphism common among pinnipeds (seals, sea lions and fur seals). Image ID: 24324   Species: Antarctic Fur Seal, Arctocephalus gazella Location: Right Whale Bay, South Georgia Island

Pups are literally strewn about on the sand, small and black, some near there mothers while others gather in small groups a few yards away from the adults. About 100 yards in from the ocean the sand beach transitions to a gravel alluvial flood plain created by streams leading down from the mountains that rise so quickly above us. King penguins (Aptenodytes patagonicus) occupy much of the plain — singletons, small groups and gatherings of hundreds and thousands. Dead fur seals lie in the stream, testament to the difficulty of survival here. Giant petrels and skuas bury their heads deep into the carcasses, emerging with blood covered beaks draped with bits of entrails. Dominant skuas chase away lesser competitors from some of the better carcasses. We walk along the outskirts of the fur seal colony, watching them and taking photographs. The sun is behind the mountains already and it is growing dark. About the time we must depart the beach and return by zodiac to the big boat for the night, we receive a final surprise: the clouds above catch their last sunlight of the day, lighting up with pink and orange. Awesome!

M/V Polar Star, an icebreaker expedition ship, lies at anchor in Right Whale Bay, South Georgia Island. Antarctic fur seals on the beach, and the rugged South Georgia Island mountains in the distance. Sunset, dusk. Image ID: 24318   Species: Antarctic Fur Seal, Arctocephalus gazella Location: Right Whale Bay, South Georgia Island

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Trip Index: Cheesemans Antarctica, Falklands and South Georgia
All “Southern Ocean” entries

Journal: Approaching South Georgia Island, January 6

Stern of the M/V Polar Star, foggy weather, sea birds flying in the wake of the ship, at sea. Image ID: 24137   Location: Southern Ocean

This was our third day sailing for South Georgia Island. We are fortunate to have had calm seas the entire time. Today I woke up at 5am, hoping to see Shag Rock which we were estimated to pass at about 5:30am. However, it was heavily overcast and drizzly. We never saw Shag Rock which is not surprising since, if I were the captain in this weather, I would have steered clear of that hazard by several miles. The water is a different color now, steel gray or sometimes black depending on the light. We crossed the Antarctic Convergence Line sometime during the night, and were now officially in “southern waters”. Crossing the convergence line, a transition which can be a brief as 100 yards, led us into water that was only 1’C, about 3-4 degrees colder than yesterday. The air is noticeably colder too, so I put on my heaviest sweater and jacket, gloves and an ugly woolen hat. No more flipflops now (well, until we get to Antarctica that is).

Before industrial whaling, the waters below our ship were teeming with behemoth blue whales, right whales, fins, humpback whales and sperm whales. In the depths over which we are now sailing whalers plyed their bloody trade, taking hundreds of thousands of whales. In terms of biomass, whale hunting in the Southern Ocean, which is still ongoing, is arguably the greatest killing spree mankind has ever embarked upon, more than any of humanity’s wars. South Georgia whalers were a major part of that gruesome machine. The whaling station at Grytviken, which we will visit in a few days, was active into the 1960s and took more whales than any other station in the Atlantic. It is a somber thought. We see no blows today.

Icebreaker M/V Polar Star approaches Elsehul harbor on South Georgia Island. Image ID: 24323   Location: South Georgia Island

For much of the day I assumed a spot on the back deck hoping to see more albatross. Since we were now only about 150nm from South Georgia, today figured to be a better day for bird sightings than yesterday. Albatrosses – black-browed, gray-headed and occasional wandering – could be seen soaring through the troughs and over the peaks of waves, riding the updrafts of the wind that was following us, but they were hard to see. The looked like ghosts as they appeared along the edge of the fog surrounding us. Prions and other small seabirds flitted about the boat throughout the day and I tried to photograph them. Epic fail. They are too damn small and fast. I could not track them they moved so quickly and erraticly. Big, slow birds are what I prefer. I take very few photos today, instead listening to Mark Isham’s Vapor Drawings on my iPod and staring out to sea. Chill. We are scheduled to arrive at South Georgia Island about 6pm hoping to make a evening visit at Elsehul (Else’s Bay) after dinner. The visit may morph into a Zodiac ride along the shore if there are too many Antarctic fur seals on shore. It is mating season for fur seals. They come ashore in such vast numbers, and are so stoked up on hormones, territoriality and sex, that it may be impossible for us to traverse the beach at Elsehul. A few hours before we sight the island, we began to see Antarctic fur seals swimming in groups in the open ocean. The fog lifts occasionally letting the sun through, then it settles in again around the boat. It feels very “South”, quite different than the balmy temperatures and sunny skies we experienced in the Falklands. This is the weather I expected.

South Georgia Island coastline, showing the island’s characteristic rugged topography. 56% of the island is covered by 161 glaciers, which have created numerous large bays and inlets that provide excellent habitat for marine animals and seabirds. Mountains meet the sea in steep-sided seacliffs covered with sparse vegetation. The highest point on South Georgia Island is Mt. Paget at 2,915m. Image ID: href=”http://www.oceanlight.com/spotlight.php?img=24317″ title=”Show Large Version With More Image Info”>24317   Location: South Georgia Island

Finally, after three days of quite comfortable and uneventful sailing, we make our first sighting of South Georgia Island. As we approach, the island rises steeply out of the ocean. A brief clearing of blue sky closes out and we find ourselves below the cloud layer that envelops the island. It is ominious and exciting. The island is imposing. Tortured earth. I wonder about the geologic tale of upheaval and torment that is written in the rocky seacliffs that burst from the depths and reach hundreds of feet into the air. This island was once part of the Andes Mountains. I would love to see the eons-long time lapse movie illustrating the tumultuous forces that parted this island from it’s mother South America, leaving it so distant, rugged and alone. I really look forward to going ashore.

Next: Right Whale Bay, South Georgia Island
Previous: En Route to South Georgia Island
Trip Index: Cheesemans Antarctica, Falklands and South Georgia
All “Southern Ocean” entries

It is uncommon for water to be flowing in Anza-Borrego Desert State Park. At least, I have never seen it before. Sure, the washes are there for a reason: they channel rainwater that comes down the canyons out to the floor of the Anza-Borrego basin. But the running water does not last long. So as I was out in Anza-Borrego for a look-see at the spring wildflower bloom and cactus situation, I was pleased to see the stream in Borrego Palm Canyon, near the visitor center, still running after the most recent bout of rains the week before. The sounds of the running water were pleasant so I used my camera to record a little video and tried to include some of the brittlebush alongside the stream that is just coming into bloom now. This was shot Saturday morning a few minutes after sunrise.

Brittlebush at sunrise, dawn, springtime bloom, Palm Canyon, Anza Borrego Desert State Park. Image ID: 24301   Species: Brittlebush, Encelia farinosa Location: Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, Anza Borrego, California, USA

I made a sunrise visit to Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, my first visit this spring. By 9am I had seen enough to know there was no further point in staying, and the light had grown harsh. There is some good news and bad news — bad news first.

Bad: Since I have been monitoring reports from other photographers for the past month, especially Ron Niebrugge’s, I had a reasonable idea of what to expect. Nonetheless, I was surprised and deeply disappointed by the extent to which invasive Sarahan mustard has overrun some of the best and most accessible wildflower areas of past years. Everyone who has visited Anza-Borrego for wildflowers is probably familiar with the alluvial flood area that descends from Coyote Canyon, and is bordered by DiGorgio Road on the west, Henderson Canyon Road on the south, and mountains to the east. My fear is that that entire area will never again produce the gorgeous expanses of Dune Evening Primrose and Sand Verbena that is has in the past. Currently, it is totally overrun and choked by saharan mustard. In theory this year’s timing of rain and warm spells should have produced a fantastic bloom in that area right about now, peaking in the next 10 days or so. Well, that won’t be happening. I did not even bother to get my camera out as I made a few stops on Henderson Canyon Road and past the end of DiGiorgio Road; I had a hard time even finding patches of verbena to look at. With some walking way in from the road, one can find patches of verbena but honestly they are just nothing like in past years. While there are desert lilies about, they are overshadowed by the taller, engulfing mustard. My favorite desert flower, the dune evening primrose, is just not happening this season; the few that are blooming are being smothered. To the east of Borrego Springs, on S22 out toward the Fonts Point and Arroyo Salado turnoffs, past years have often had large swaths of sand verbena. That’s not happening in those areas right now, and probably won’t this year. Mustard is starting to appear in those areas as well, unfortunately.

I hate to say it, but my sense is that this year’s flower bloom in Anza-Borrego will be (is?) sub-par. The same may hold true for the Coachella Valley. We saw virtually no color on the western flanks of the Coachella Valley, including almost no brittlebush, as we left Palm Desert and drove up into the mountains today.

Good: I think this may be a super year for cactus blooms. I went to a couple of my favorite canyons and found thousands of cacti, including large red barrel cactus, looking healthy, in bud stage or just beginning to bloom. They look great. I plan to come back in a couple weeks to see how they have progressed. Brittlebush is beginning to bloom now, and looks very good in some areas, including Borrego Palm Canyon (near the visitor center), where it can be seen growing alongside the short-lived stream that is still flowing. While the brittlebush is sparse relative to past years, it provides the best opportunities for color. I am hopeful the brittlebush fills out and covers the western flanks of the Anza-Borrego basin in yellow as it has in the past. If it does, it will probably take at least another week or two to develop that way.

I will return in another week or so for the cactus, ocotillo, agave and brittlebush, but with little hope for the flowers.

Update 1: Micheal Gordon posted his observations (similar to mine). Many have commented on the Carol Leigh’s Calphoto wildflower sheet, also with some dour news about the mustard

Update 2: I was pleased to see water in Palm Canyon, so I shot and posted a little video of the stream flowing past brittlebush.