![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
poletopoleShip's Position at 12:00:
New Year's Eve finds a few very large icebergs, very far north, drifting along as the ship hurries north. The captain neither pauses nor turns; during the day we pass an illegal Japanese fishing vessel, south of 60 degrees, and a group of humpback whales, without stopping for a second look. During dinner the ship passes through a set of large and picturesquely decayed icebergs that must be last of the giants spawned by the great ice shelves, as we see no more afterward, and they must have been caught in a strong current to come so far north. But even the largest doesn't merit a second look, an admiring circumnavigation. One, channeled on top and sides and carved with caverns at its base, calves as we pass.
The Russian crew's attitude toward the illegal fishing is that it isn't a problem. They're not at all into conservation or protection of resources; take what you can because someone else will get it if you don't, is the attitude. It's not a comfortable fit with the ostensibly eco-correct philosophy of the company chartering the ship.
To greet the New Year, a large and festive dinner is served, a movie shown (Ratatouille; unfortunately the selection of movies is very limited and it turns out most people watched this one on the LAN plane to Stanley). Afterward, there's a party in the lounge and bar, with energetic dancing by the athletically inclined, a champagne toast, and a post-midnight buffet. But the notable event isn't the arbitrary calendar change: it's that it gets dark. Starting around 01:00 on January 1, we have a few hours of real night for the first time in a month.
- 61°50.0' S 79°44.2' E
- Course 38°; Speed 14.4 kts
- Air temperature 3°C; Wind 28 kts; Direction 30°
- Weather: Cloudy; Visibility 2-4
- Ice Cover: 0
- Distance covered past 24 hours: 332.4 nautical miles
New Year's Eve finds a few very large icebergs, very far north, drifting along as the ship hurries north. The captain neither pauses nor turns; during the day we pass an illegal Japanese fishing vessel, south of 60 degrees, and a group of humpback whales, without stopping for a second look. During dinner the ship passes through a set of large and picturesquely decayed icebergs that must be last of the giants spawned by the great ice shelves, as we see no more afterward, and they must have been caught in a strong current to come so far north. But even the largest doesn't merit a second look, an admiring circumnavigation. One, channeled on top and sides and carved with caverns at its base, calves as we pass.
The Russian crew's attitude toward the illegal fishing is that it isn't a problem. They're not at all into conservation or protection of resources; take what you can because someone else will get it if you don't, is the attitude. It's not a comfortable fit with the ostensibly eco-correct philosophy of the company chartering the ship.
To greet the New Year, a large and festive dinner is served, a movie shown (Ratatouille; unfortunately the selection of movies is very limited and it turns out most people watched this one on the LAN plane to Stanley). Afterward, there's a party in the lounge and bar, with energetic dancing by the athletically inclined, a champagne toast, and a post-midnight buffet. But the notable event isn't the arbitrary calendar change: it's that it gets dark. Starting around 01:00 on January 1, we have a few hours of real night for the first time in a month.
