Visit to Grytviken in the morning. Ship Cruise at Nordenskjöld Glacier in the afternoon.
We wake up to a light snowy day and just a breeze blowing over Cumberland Bay East. EUROPA has spent a good night anchored at Grytviken Harbour, right where we plan the morning activities.
The remains of the first whaling station in South Georgia lay in front of us along the coast, and at our side, we can see the more modern buildings of the research base of King Edward Point, with the patrol ship Pharos moored alongside its quay.
Grytviken Station is built on a flat area at the foot of high mountains and, as all whaling stations, has a good supply of fresh water, a dam up the hills and a couple of streams run through the plain amongst the remains of the buildings, boilers, and tanks.
It was established on 16 November 1904 by the Norwegian sea captain Carl Anton Larsen, with capital from the Compañía Argentina de Pesca. After his struggle for survival during the Swedish Antarctic Expedition led by Otto Nordenskjöld between 1901 and 1903, which involved the loss of their ship, the Antarctic, and becoming marooned in the Weddell Sea, he realised the good whaling potential of the area. An idea that proved to be quite lucrative as, already during the first year of activity, 195 whales were taken and processed here, even without having to sail too far from Cumberland Bay. Grytviken operated for decades, until 1966, being the only station together with Leith Harbour that didn’t even close during the Second World War.
Today we didn’t land straight away after breakfast as we are getting used to doing, but a bit later, as first we had to go through all the formalities of customs, passport stamping, and biosecurity checks with the local authorities.
Afterwards, the boats drove us straight to the famous graveyard, where we started our morning ashore. The famous cemetery is known for hosting Ernest Shackleton’s body, which is buried in a preeminent spot amongst several of the whalers who died here during the years of the station's operations.
First, we paid our respects to “The Boss,” who rests here after his long Antarctic exploration life. He was part of the Discovery Expedition, 1901–1903, with Scott in an unsuccessful attempt to reach the South Pole. Then he tried again with his own expedition aboard the Nimrod between 1907 and 1909, almost reaching his goal but having to return 100 miles short of the Pole. Before he could try again, in 1912, Amundsen and Scott—two different expeditions with different logistics, ideas, goals, and fates—reached this coveted objective. In Antarctica, only a great feat was left for him: to cross the whole of the continent. And for this, he planned the famous Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition, 1914–1917. Beset on the ice first in the Weddell Sea, then their ship Endurance was lost. The crew lived on the ice floes until they could launch their three sloops and make way to Elephant Island. From there, and using one of them, the James Caird, a party of six reached South Georgia. At the end of the adventure, Shackleton managed to keep all his crew alive.
Three years later, he considered a new expedition. After considering different options, he bought a 125-ton Norwegian sealer, named Foca I, which he renamed Quest. He set sail on 24 September 1921 in what was proposed as an oceanographic sub-Antarctic expedition, with a vague plan to maybe circumnavigate Antarctica and research some of the remote islands that can be found around the continent.
They made port at Grytviken on 4 January 1922, and the day after, he suffered a fatal heart attack.
His wife Emily preferred his body to be buried here instead of being repatriated. The Boss has laid here since. A few years ago, the ashes of his right-hand man Frank Wild were brought next to him.
From the cemetery, just a short walk along the bay and through the remains of the only whaling station on the island where we can actually walk around, brought us to the Museum, Post Office, and South Georgia Heritage Trust shop. All that is bought here is invested in conservation projects in South Georgia.
There was still the rest of the morning to spend here before lunchtime. Many joined a guided tour, others preferred to walk around on their own through this impressive site. The structure of the station is clearly recognisable: residential area, church, flensing plant, the different sorts of boilers where the whalers used every part of the animals to extract the oil, the huge oil tanks, and storage areas. Several whale-catchers are beached along the shoreline too, one of them, the Petrel, still with the harpoon gun mounted at her bow. Having a look around, it is hard to imagine that about 300 men worked at the station during its heyday in the summer months. In winter, just some logistics staff worked here to maintain the facilities.
After the good historical morning, peppered by the wildlife that is taking back the station (including the ubiquitous fur seals, elephant seals, skuas, shags, and Antarctic terns with their hatchlings), we head back on board and prepare for heaving anchor. The next spot to visit: the neighbouring Nordenskjöld Glacier, at the head of Cumberland Bay East.
It will take about an hour and a half to reach its ice-filled waters and its large calving front. The bay is not small as, from side to side, it extends for almost 5 km while it is 13 km long. Its waters were first charted by the Swedish Antarctic Expedition led by Otto Nordenskjöld at the very beginning of the 20th century.
Once we approach, the beauty of the area is outstanding. High peaks surround the long and broad glacier tongue that calves into the sea. A few miles of heavy brash ice conditions and bergy bits extend over the waters in front of it, a perfect spot to steer into and drift while having an afternoon cup of coffee, or climb aloft as many did to enjoy the views perched atop yards and masts.
The first contact with the ice of our trip, an unforgettable one, furthermore in quite good weather and calm conditions. A situation that, as is usual on the island, was about to quickly change as the ship leaves the area and heads for a good shelter to overnight. Passing first along one of the monumental icebergs that has drifted here all the way from Antarctica, soon the ship faces gusts up to 45 knots shooting down from the different glaciers that debouch in Cumberland Bay. She was making her way to Jason Harbour, where the anchor goes down right after dinner.