This last Sunday was such a day. It happenned to be the third in a string of clear, sunny days that have been a sought after rarity this austral Spring. The wind blew lightly out of the southwest, the thermometer read above freezing. It was a perfect day for an excursion. The best place to hike locally is on Bonaparte Point, a short distance across a narrow inlet (Hero Inlet) from Palmer Station (Image 1; Palmer Station, from Bonaparte Point). Unfortunately, as you see in Image 1, there is still thick pack-ice all around, so boating was out of the question. Several years ago a trolley system that spans Hero Inlet was built to allow access to Bonaparte under just such conditions (Image 2; Mario being pulled accross Hero inlet on the trolley). The system is quite simple, a cable spans the inlet and a seat not unlike those found on playground swings hangs from a pulley system that rolls on the cable. A rope that spans the inlet right below the cable is used to pull the trolley accross. This can be quite a chore for a single traveller, but with four friends helping from shore, the ride for us was quite pleasant, if unsteady (on the way back home we timed ourselves to see how fast someone could be pulled across the inlet; the tale 28 seconds, a new Palmer record). On this day people on station were literally flocking to Bonaparte, siezing the fair weather opportunity. Our group, which we aptly named "Join the Crowd" for the sake of radio communications, consisted of five members: Dr. Bosch and myself (Image 3), two other memebers of our research group, Mario and Ross, Brendon Hofsetz, a Chemistry graduate student from Washington State University, and William Arens, a computer technician on station all seen in this image pulling the Trolley (Image 4, from right to left, Brendon, William, Mario, Dr. Bosch and Ross). After safely crossing on the trolley we unloaded some of our heavy gear and trudged off through the deep snow toward adventure.

As it turned out our walk through Bonaparte Point was like a walk through a wildlife refuge. We had not gone far from the trolley when 20 meters away we spotted a pair of crabeater seals (Image 5) lazily basking on the shore. Crabeaters are the most common marine mammal in the world, numbering over 30 million. They were erroneously named by early antarctic explorers who believed that crabs were a main staple of their diet. They actually feed on krill, the most abundant invertebrate in Antarctica, not on crabs, which are altogether absent from the Antarctic regions. We knew these two to be a mating pair as we'd seen the male fighting off other suitors for some time. These battles continue until the female has given birth to this year's pup and is ready to conceive. One of the crabeaters had what appeared to be three wide, deep scars all the way accross its midsection. While it is not unusual to see scars on crabeaters (on the lucky ones that survive attacks by voracious leopard seals), there is only one predator in these waters that would inflict such a huge wound: the orca or killer whale. It is a lucky seal that survives an attack by an orca.

After a few moments observing the crabeaters we moved around a bend and there I caught my first glimpse of an elephant seal (Image 6). Although not particularly large for a male, this animal was simply enormous, easily weighing over 3 thousand pounds and dwarfing our group. It, too, was basking in the springtime sun. In Antarctica, there are no land predators, so any animal that can haul ashore is assured it's safety and is characteristically oblivious to any interruptions. The result of this is that most of the seals and birds are quite unperturbed by the cautious approach of a few curious humans. Of course we don't get too close to these animals, so as not to disturb them, but even from a distance, a bull elephant seal is an amazing sight. It breathed very slowly and very heavily, blowing air out through it's huge snout. Male elephant seals have a proboscis resembling an elephant's trunk. They use it to attract females or repel males by producing a very low pitched bellow that can be heard from great distances. This male was guarding a female and her pup, the pup laying close to mother and nursing. E-seal pups (Image 7) are also called blackcoats, referring to the unusually dark coat of fur they don. We walked by the seals, being very careful not to disturb them, and headed further out to the point.

In the spring, the antarctic sun hangs relatively low in the sky, even in the middle of the afternoon, and the rocky terrain casts long shadows, making for very interesting black and white photography. The visiblity on this day was terrific allowing us to Mountain ranges of the Antarctic Peninsula some more than 60 miles away. Kelp gulls, cormorants and giant petrels (which will be the subject of a future entry) flew by, over the water, and over head, in an aerial dance of gliding and swooping. Bonaparte Point is quite rocky and this day the snow was quite deep as well. We trudged along, crossing a snow bridge that spanned a small strait that severs the tip of Bonaparte point from the mainland of Anvers Island. As we made our way out to the point, I came upon a monument that seemed a bit out of place. The Antarctic treaty forbids the introduction of foreign plants and animals, and here, sitting in front of me, was a stark violation of that policy (Image 8; strange bird). It seems that a pink flamingo has taken root at Bonaparte Point! We quickly realized there was no need to be concerned, because this stranger was alone and certainly unable to procreate.

After more than an hour's hike through deep snow we finally reached the tip of the Bonaparte Peninsula, the furthest away from station we could possibly travel. And there we found two lone Adelie penguins sitting on the sea ice (Image 9). For you trivia buffs, this species was named by French explorer Dumont D'urville, after his wife Adelede, whom we presume looked nothing like the two little ones before us. We spent a few minutes observing the penguins, as they observed us. Then they headed off on the sea ice moving quickly on their bellies, as penguins are known to do, to join their comrades at a nearby rookery. We could see Palmer Station quite well from Bonaparte, and we took every photo opportunity possible, using our Kodak digital camera to capture the scenery and wildlife. Slowly we trudged back through the deep snow, over the trolley, finally arriving on Station safely, after being out for about 3 hours. Later we were treated to a spectacular sunset which set the clouds aflame with color (Image 10) reflecting pink overtones on the glacier across Arthur Harbor (Image 11).