A Restful Night After a Long Walk
After taking 26,000 steps over two days, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep last night. Losing an hour due to the time change didn’t help, and I ended up sleeping in. When I finally woke up, it was just in time for the 9:30 a.m. lecture by Sara on the Nature of South Georgia. Breakfast could wait—I decided to attend the talk instead, and I’m glad I did.
Illuminating Facts from Sara’s Talk
Although I’ve spent 44 days in Antarctica, I’ve never been to South Georgia—even though some companies include it as part of an Antarctic voyage. For me, the biggest draw is the King Penguins, but Sara’s talk opened my eyes to so much more.
Flora and Fauna of South Georgia
One plant I hadn’t heard of before is the burnet (Acaena magellanica), a dense-growing ground cover with dark red flowers. Surprisingly, the South Georgia Pipit—the island’s only songbird—includes burnet in its diet. The pipit is small and elusive, making it tricky to spot, but Sara assured us that its song stands out because, as she put it, “everything else just shouts!”
Seal Season: The Good, The Bad, and The Molting
South Georgia is teeming with Southern Elephant Seals and Antarctic Fur Seals. Right now, elephant seals are undergoing a catastrophic molt, which means they shed not just their fur but also a layer of skin. In contrast, fur seals shed gradually throughout the year—more like how humans continuously lose and regrow hair.
Rats, Reindeer, and the Battle for Conservation
For years, two invasive species wreaked havoc on South Georgia:
Rats—stowaways from sealing and whaling ships—decimated seabird populations by eating their eggs.
Reindeer, intentionally introduced as a food source, overgrazed on native plants critical to seabirds’ nesting habitat.
Thankfully, a massive restoration project led by the South Georgia Heritage Trust successfully eradicated rats by 2018 and reindeer by 2014. The 6,000 reindeer were either relocated to Falklands farms or culled for meat.
Crossing the Antarctic Convergence
By late morning, I noticed three dolphins swimming parallel to the ship. They were too far away for a decent photo, but I could clearly see their heads and backs as they surfaced.
Stepping onto my balcony, I felt an immediate drop in temperature. Had we crossed into the Antarctic Convergence, where the cold Southern Ocean meets the warmer Atlantic Ocean? This invisible boundary creates a sharp temperature gradient, often bringing an increase in seabirds and marine life. So far, apart from the dolphins, I haven’t noticed a significant uptick in birds—but I’ll be watching.
Molting in Misery
The older I get, the more I wish I could shed my skin and grow a new outer layer. That’s exactly what penguins do with their feathers.
Unlike most birds, which replace feathers gradually, penguins go through a catastrophic molt—a dramatic all-at-once feather loss. Because their feathers must be waterproof for swimming, once the molt begins, they cannot enter the water to hunt. Instead, they bulk up beforehand and then endure weeks of fasting, itching, and looking downright miserable.
My previous trips to Antarctica and subantarctic islands were during breeding and hatching seasons. This time, I’m visiting at the end of the season, which means most penguins are in molt mode.
At the Falklands, I saw a Magellanic penguin on the beach that looked so miserable I thought it was dying. By the time I left, it had collapsed on a rock, and I was sure it had succumbed. But then I saw it breathing. The staff assured me that molting penguins just look that pitiful—a reminder of how brutal this process is.
Boot Cleaning and Biosecurity
As with most ecologically fragile places, visiting South Georgia Island requires strict biosecurity measures. Today’s protocol included:
Watching a short film narrated by David Attenborough.
A thorough inspection of outer garments.
Boot cleaning—and not just a casual rinse.
Just about everyone failed the first round of boot inspection and had to line up in the mud room for a more intensive scrubbing.
A Flaw in the Ship’s Design
Speaking of the mud room, this is one area where the Silver Wind could use improvement.
It’s small, making boot inspection and cleaning cramped and inefficient.
The boot shelves require boots to lay flat, taking up extra space.
The shelves are in front of the main passageway to the cleaning station, making access awkward.
Other expedition ships I’ve been on had spacious mud rooms with lockers for boots, hiking poles, and outerwear—something Silver Wind could benefit from.
To make matters worse, one of Glen’s boots went missing. The staff found a replacement, but it was more worn than his original. Later, I spotted a better match, but that means there’s still a lone boot floating around the mud room—waiting for its rightful owner.
Dining at The Grill Suspended
Starting tonight, and until we leave South Georgia, the ship will operate under blackout protocol—a measure to reduce bird strikes by keeping windows covered at night and outdoor lighting minimal. This means The Grill’s outdoor dining area is closed.
I haven’t dined at The Grill yet because:
On my last Silversea voyage, I wasn’t impressed by the food.
This trip has been too cold for outdoor dining anyway.
I’m not sure how many people have been braving the cold to eat there, but with only 189 passengers on board, closing The Grill is unlikely to cause much congestion in the other restaurants.
Final Thoughts
Today brought a mix of fascinating lectures, a stark temperature shifts, a few wildlife sightings, and biosecurity protocols. The molting Magellanic penguin will stay with me as a reminder of how harsh yet remarkable nature can be.
Now, as we continue steaming toward South Georgia, I’ll keep my eyes peeled for more wildlife—and maybe, just maybe, the missing boot will find its owner.
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