DAVID Attenborough once described existence in Shackleton's "White South" as "life in a freezer". Life is a freezer, and it is anti-clockwise to boot.
Here in the land at the bottom of the earth, fabulous phenomena suggest the sinister. Snow swirls to the left, the sun moves towards it, and lost men and dogs always walk in a left-handed circle. Motion is exactly the opposite to the north polar regions, where everything turns naturally right.
The instinct appears to become more pronounced the farther north or south one goes. The circles traversed by lost men sometimes reach extreme exactitude. They say that the person who goes astray in Antarctica and keeps on walking is almost certain to return to starting point if he or she lives long enough. This behaviour is reflected by wildlife. Penguin tracks in the snow veer left, seals swim in left-turning circles, and flocks of exotic seabirds always seem to approach from that direction.
It was only after a couple of penguin nips and a quick shelter behind a rock from an angry skua that I was also struck by another Antarctic phenomenon role reversal. Here were we - Russians, Australians, and a couple of Irish attached to the South Aris Shackleton expedition, travelling by ship down the ice-strewn coastline of the continent's peninsula. Like polite visitors, we were respecting the strict environmental code drawn up under the international Antarctic Treaty. No litter, no bounty-hunting, no quick darts for a pee behind a rock.
Curious observers? Not at all. Captives in a human zoo!
The bemused spectators are the residents colony upon colony of penguins, seals, pods of minke, orca and humpback whales, and birds that can travel thousands of miles. Some of the 42 treaty nations may attempt to claim territory and argue over the wording of an Antarctic protocol. Their research bases may be a cover for wider strategic interests Yet in summer, the scientists studying the ozone layer and melting ice caps need thermal gear. To weather the dark winter, when the sun doesn't creep above the horizon, they have to undergo psychological tests.
There are no airports, no telephone boxes, no quick trips home. The daunting 600-mile Drake Passage, which carries some 10 per cent of the world's oceans swiftly eastwards as it separates South America from Antarctica, has a fearsome reputation. In short, homo sapiens is unfit for this wild environment.
It is almost too good for us when we have such a legacy of environmental degradation elsewhere. Here, an iceberg art gallery is sculpted by nature. Green moons are matched by rainbows on a breath, and haloes around the sun. The air may be the chilliest, the windiest, the driest, but it is also rich and pure. It contains about 2 per cent more nitrogen and slightly greater amounts of oxygen and carbon dioxide than on other continents. It also contains the rare inert, argon gas, and is alarmingly invigorating.
Greg Mortimer, Australian Everest mountaineer and adventurer, knows all about it. "It's so raw. Antarctica is so raw," was how he described the continent after a dramatic mountaineering expedition in 1988. But he was betwitched. It became a part of his life. With his partner, Margaret Werner, he set up Aurora Expeditions to share the experience with small, specialised groups.
For this is the only way to visit the cruel, but beautiful continent, which is anything but a desert. Nothing grows? Wrong. Lichen and mosses thrive. Algae multiply on snow slopes. Krill and other types of fish abound in relatively unexploited waters.
It is a landscape which may seem barren at first glance, but is constantly changing. Glaciers crack like gunshot, and parts of the ice-pack crumble and tumble, creating spectacular tidal waves. Sub-zero temperatures may induce hypothermia among the warm-blooded yet, one can paddle in sheltered waters, as I did by kayak, or swim in a lava-warmed bay. Perish, perhaps. But here, nothing really dies.
Ushuaia in Tierra del Fuego, Argentina, is port for a growing traffic in Antarctic cruise ships. The former penal colony represents Argentina's claim to the last town on earth. Here, weather in fast-forward mode is an indication of the fickle climate further down. Barometers can barely keep up with Antarctica's moods.
The number of visitors is still small, and the cost by ship from Ushuaia can make it exclusive. Mortimer and Weiner have tried to make it more affordable, and have been particularly careful about their choice of ship. Vessels such as the ice-strengthened Profrssor Molchanov from the Russian port of Murmansk fit this bill. "Russian sailors are the undisputed masters of ice navigation," Mortimer told this reporter simply, just weeks after one iceberg exploded and knocked the vessel off course. The adept captain, who had 40 years' experience in both polar regions, was able to avoid any damage.
on its stern deck, a small fleet of inflatable boats is ready to take the complement ashore. It may be a group of mature Sydney University students or a gang of climbers and photographers. Mortimer supported the first Antarctic sea-kayak expedition in 1994/1995. Clients' ages have ranged from seven to 92. Mortimer's philosophy is to ensure even the physically challenged can have access to the ice.
Throughout the voyage - via the South Shetland islands, down the Antarctic Sound with its monstrous tabular icebergs, into the Weddell Sea where Sir Ernest Shackleton lost his ship in 1915, and back up round the peninsula's western flank - passengers, are allowed open access to the bridge. Sighting a humpback, the crew members become as animated as if it was their first kit, (their Russian term). Penguins swim porpoise-like in shallow bays. They look so helpless and uncomfortable ashore that one is quickly convinced that the marine is their natural element.
Keeping us briefed on the birdlife on this voyage was a US ornithologist, Dr Gary Miller, who told us that, of all the penguin groups he has studied, his soft spot is for the humorous Gentoo. Prof Michael Bryden of Sydney University kept up the whale watch. Although the Antarctic contains one of the world's biggest biomasses of animals, there are only seven species of seal, he told us. The Weddell seal is the most southerly living mammal. We encountered a few, and plenty of leopard seals licking their chops after a dinner of Adelie penguins.
Marking the southern "gateway", icebergs probably leave the most lasting impression of a lunar continent. Even in rough seas, the constant daylight has a therapeutic effect. The "big eye" or insomnia which can develop is too transient to induce exhaustion; more hazardous to health is the obsession with chocolate which some scientists develop during winter.
Down the Gerlache strait and into the Lemaire Channel, we anchored in Paradise Harbour, strewn with brash ice. Here, the purpose was to land at the Argentinian base named after the Mayo-born founder of its navy, Almirante Brown. The director produced a box of expensive T-shirts to sell, and didn't want to talk too much about the scientific programme. Even cloth badges were $10 a piece.
Similarly, at the Chilean military troops, research station on King George island, even the presence of a Chilean cabinet minister in our party did not produce much of a welcome. This base has encouraged families to settle. It has a chapel, made from old containers, and it has 22 pupils enrolled at its primary school.
We left the Antarctic Convergence where warm seas meet cold, and steamed back up towards Cape Horn, where Atlantic meets Pacific with spectacular effect. Would weather hold for a rounding? It did. Under the bright southern sunshine, it was difficult to picture how this stretch, such a graveyard for ships, could run up a horrible storm.
Be warned. One cannot bring enough camera film. One has to be fairly self-sufficient, as Ushuaia is the last place to shop. Photographing whales can be an extremely frustrating experience; there are always too many frames of sunbathing Gentoo and Adelie penguins.
And don't be tempted to spend too long in Argentina on the way home - this could dilute the experience.
