Our wildlife expert and New Zealand local guide, Anne-Sophie, has been working closely with Longitude 80 in designing a Dream Journey - Seabirds of the Southern Ocean. On return from a stint down in the Sub-Antarctic Islands last year, she wrote the following reflection.... 

I often found myself wanting to stop time on our voyage south, and, for a split second, I realised I could, before a gentle rock from a wave would reemphasise the transition from present to past. It made me understand people’s desperate need for photos – forever trying to capture that feeling of “now”. I joined them in their frantic focusing on a rare snipe that would make itself known – yet by the time the photo was taken, I would lower my camera and the bird would already be gone. Now, when I look at the photo, all that comes back to me is the panic in the technicalities. The snipe looked at me and I did not look back.

A friend said to me under the stars one night that all Sub-Antarctic creatures are blurry, and it is only now that I am fully grasping the meaning of those words. It emphasises the decision that I was constantly faced with – connect in the present or remain removed and preserve what could have been. My photo roll stops at Enderby Island with a buildup of distracted, unfocused edges. After that, my camera became an ornament – I surrendered to the now.

And the now was wonderful. I edged on the side of caution and avoided eye contact with a sealion. I watched the sun set at midnight, sprawled out on my back absorbing the eternity of the waves. I listened to silence for the first time in my life. I sat amongst the albatross and learned their local dialect. I was not a wallflower; I was a megaherb, exposed to the raw and honest innocence of the landscape and those that called it home. 

Life is full of pivotal moments or none at all. But for me, the act of stepping onto a shore that had defeated all attempts of human settlement was emotionally stirring. The history of these islands is a perfect example of mother nature lifting a middle finger to humanity and the destruction that we bring. What was I doing there? I remember sitting on the rim of the zodiac, one foot in, one foot out – frozen in the sunshine. The island did not need me, yet I desperately needed it.

I live to seek out the wilderness. A love of adventure on the surface; but standing in a blanket of fog on Campbell Island forced me to internalise my desperate need for reassurance. Reassurance that our world is ok. Reassurance that hidden corners remain unspoiled. Up there in the fog it was silent. A pipit scurried around my feet completely unaware and I couldn’t help but feel that I was intruding, because I was. My relationship with the bird was incredibly delicate, one wrong move and I would shatter its trust. I hated that power.

The islands rose out of the water to greet me and disappeared beneath the horizon in the space of a week. Do they even exist? I keep asking myself. To most of the world, they are forgotten and for some reason, I can’t shake the feeling that there is a reason for that. Environmental activism makes up the foundation of who I am, generating passion for our natural world is a process that fuels me. Yet there is part of me that wants to keep what I experienced on these islands a secret. And I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s the risk of exploitation that stems from awareness. Maybe it’s the fear that people won’t see what I see. Maybe I am just being selfish.

LITTLE KNOWN FACT:

All the NZ subantarctic islands are National Nature Reserves, the highest possible conservation status + World Heritage status, meaning they represent the best of the world’s natural heritage.

BEST MONTH TO VISIT:

January and February

Longitude 80 offers a Seabirds of the Southern Ocean itinerary that is broken down into two parts. The mainland New Zealand part is eight days (five on the North Island and three on the South Island). The additional Sub-Antarctic voyage is a minimum of eight days depending on the islands you choose to visit.