Today we went ashore. Yankee Bay is large, shallow stretch of water protected by a shingle spit of glacial moraine with a narrow entrance. Few boats come here.
The spit is beloved of fur seals and is host to a rookery of gentoo penguins. Skuas swoop and strut, looking for carrion and petrels float overhead. Today a large Weddell seal had joined the party too and a kelp gull dropped by for a little while.
The fur seals, all male at this time, are quite big and move fast on those flippers. They are curious about people but protective of their personal space, particularly that space between themselves and the water. If threatened they come towards you, displaying their ferocious teeth and flaring their nostrils, crying ark, ark.
Don’t run from a fur seal. Stand your ground and mak yourself big. Hiss if you feel inclined. He will make a few more feeble attempts and then back off. All fur coat and no knickers those youngsters.
The three bells have rung to call us for a briefing. We are moving to another anchorage and landing this afternoon. The weather is still, but cold, and snowing.
I wish I could have seen you confronting that fur seal — I’d have laid odds on you anyway. Glad that the seasickness seems to have been conquered, at least for now. How did you get ashore? In inflatables?
Love from Diana & the Bandits