We rise at 4.30am for a beach landing, but there is a heavy swell, and the
gangway yaws up and own by ten feet or more. Still, we are game – old salts
now! The first Zodiac to reach the beach has overturned and tipped a
passenger out. He is OK, apart from being a bit shaken and wet through.
Landings are cancelled, and the captain makes for Drygalski fjord.

The water is turquoise and littered with icebergs; it is -3 degrees, with a
stiff wind blowing, and even with all my polar gear.I am chilled. The
captain steers us to the top of the fjord, within 70 meters of the massive
glacier. Words fail us. Four blasts on the ship’s horn start the glacier
calving. We see South Georgia through Shackle ton’s eyes, and as we say
goodbye.we wonder. Will we ever return?