Bird life was plentiful. A close-up of today's iceberg. But here, our experience diverges. We have only sighted a single iceberg today, while Shackleton was threading his ship gingerly through a sea clotted with them. We're all adjusted now, and getting adept at fielding flying objects and keeping dinner in front of us.
Fog envelops the ship.
On the darkened bridge, Captain Maslennikov and three officers are on the watch, staring intently at radar screens and the mist swirling over the bow for icebergs ahead. A single glowing white beam cuts through the night ahead of the ship with an eerie glow, like the mythical St. Elmo's Fire. Only the metallic whine of the gyro compass breaks the silence. It's a story oft told by sailors in these waters. Days before her first sail in Antarctic waters, the James Caird replica has her sail hoisted.