Mounts Demaria and Luigi

A late morning start on the 22^nd and on to Yalour Island, to which I kayaked from the yacht. We paddled between the pinnacles of a large iceberg – as long as it doesn't roll it's safe. Yalour has a well established Adelie Penguin colony. Adelies were the Mexican characters in Happy Feet. They are a true Antarctic penguin, like the Emperor, as they winter over on the ice. This is about as north as they go, but Gentoos are slowly overtaking their breeding sites as the peninsula warms.  Adelie penguins have the most comical gait of all, so are a joy to watch. Many penguins here are moulting their feathers – just standing around in feather boas, or so it looks.

On the way to Cape Tuxen there were minke whales swimming under the boat. Very cool.

We decided to investigate Mount Demaria. It had a nice looking snowline all the way from the shore to its 650m summit. Maybe a little steep, but it looked good. Up closer it seemed a little steeper than expected – 45 degrees or so, and the bottom half was a series of parallel lines where rocks and mini avalanches have scoured the snow. On landing we could see that it was indeed steep, but the avalanches were not recent and they were just the scars of occasional large rocks. Five of us started, then one by one the number dropped til just Nick and I were left. The problem was that the slope was coming into the shade and the soft snow was freezing hard. Skiing down a rough, icy, 45 degree slope that dropped 300m was putting people off. If the edges don't stick you are gone. So I pulled out too, half way up, just before we were due in the sunshine and the slo pe eased. The ski was not particularly enjoyable, or scary. Well, may be a little. As I was worried about stuffing the turn and falling  and sliding forever I did sitting turns, where I sat back on the snow and flipped my skis 180 degrees to ski back the other way. We all got off fine. A good learning experience, not a waste at all.

That evening we sailed back through the Lemaire Channel and had the sun setting behind Booth Island, before anchoring back at Port Lockroy.

The next day was our last land day, so we all set off to attempt Mt Luigi. At 1300m it is an impressive peak from the boat, with 1000m cliffs rising to a fluffy summit dome. We were to skirt around the back. After getting around some icy bays on glaciers, we then rose up the Thunder Glacier. It has large cliffs either side topped by seracs, which are massive ice blocks slowly peeling off the mountain and ready to drop at any time. And today was such a day. A serac avalanched at the top of the glacier as we were half way up and sent a massive cloud of ice and snow that reached the opposite cliffline.  We crossed the debris later – if we had been in the way at the time there would be no harm done apart from pockets of fine snow and post-traumatic stress disorder.

Not soon after and not related to the avalanche, Toby had to turn back, with Rob and Skip escorting him. We had to pass some pretty impressive crevasses before reaching the ridgeline, our route to the summit. A short but very steep snow slope had us putting crampons on, but we were soon back on skis. It was a perfect ridge with nice wide snow terraces and views down to sea on either side and Mt Francais to the west. Clouds milled about other peaks but Luigi stayed clear. Then we came to an impasse at 950m. There was a very narrow ridge for a while before the summit dome that was basically just seracs towered upon more seracs like a balls of dough thrown together. This was not a job for today. Seracs had been avalanching all day in the warm air. It was late and we were too many and frankly too inexperienced, apart from Stephen and Rodrigo. So we picnicked at t he "Skier's Summit". The ski down was fun but the snow a little thick. I walked down the very steep bit as the landing zone if on skis was only a few metres wide – to the left was a large crevasse, to the right was a fall to the glacier of a few hundred metres. Putting skins back on the skis to come over the final bay-glacier was a trudge, but it was sadly our last ski. That's two failed summits in two days, but no regrets. Great days out.

So, back on the boat and much busyness as we packed all our skiing and climbing stuff away. Three weeks in the salty sea air had rusted the ski edges so they needed a quick sandpaper and a covering in dry wax, the usefulness of which I doubt.

So that was skiing mountaineering in Antarctica.