Day 1 Setting sail and the first whale sighting

Leaving Choiseul Sound (Falkland Islands)

View over the bow

Commerson's dolphins riding the bow wave

After much preparation in port the day had come to set sail. A tugboat helped the James Clark Ross out of her berth at Mare Harbour and we steamed over into Choiseul Sound. Mere minutes after the ship had fired up its engines and started moving a small pod of Commerson's dolphins swam over and rode our bow wave for a few fin strokes. They spinned around and twisted into the turbulence before departing just as quickly as they had appeared.

Before going into the open ocean we completed a set of sea drills while the ship was at anchor. An ear-piercing alarm sounded at every grabbed their life jacket and assembled at the muster station. All names were called out and we were marched to the life boats and strapped ourselves in. The life boat is roughly the shape of two bathtub stuck together by their open ends. The top half is orange, so it can be spotted easily from rescue planes should that ever be required.

A crew member stood by the door of the life boat to tick our names of the sheet. He announced cheerily that we should have our passports and boarding passes ready and stow our hand luggage in the overhead compartments. Inside the craft are rows of benches with seatbelts that resemble in part those on a plane, but include the upper body too (a bit like those used in rally cars). The life jackets were uncomfortable as it is, but in the event of an emergency we might also be wearing immersion suits - an insulated neoprene overall which keeps the person dry in case one has to abandon ship and go into the drink.

The life boat drill lightened the mood, as we had been waiting around for quite a while. Not it wouldn't be long before the open ocean. The crew completed some extra drills - they actually launched the life boats into the water, but the scientists weren't required for that. Finally we weighed anchor and steamed into open water. I went up to the roof of the navigation bridge called "monkey island" and scanned the sea surface for signs of life.

There was flocks of sooty shearwaters again, but not the huge masses of birds we saw yesterday. Black-browed albatrosses skimmed the crests of the waves as if to tell us that the open ocean was near. It didn't take long until I heard a very welcome shout:

W H A L E !!!

and my eyes strained in the general direction Hugh was pointing his arm as one would do in a man-overboard situation. And there it was - a blow at 1 o'clock off the bow. A short time later another blow at 2 o'clock. Such a shame that it was already too dark to take a photo. When the whale passed across the starboard beam I caught a brief glimpse of its dorsal fin, which might have belonged to a Sei whale. I didn't see much more than the fin as the animal arched its back to dive, but if it was this easy to see whales within an hour from land then I could be hopeful for many more whale encounters to come.