Merry Christmas everyone! This time, I’m not going to write trip logs, nor will my blog be in chronological order. We’re starting with one of the places I was absolutely dying to visit, especially after the Million Dollar Mouse project earlier this year – Antipodes Island. The main Antipodes island and its small surrounding archipelago are most remote of our subantarctic islands, over 800km from the South Island. The largest of the seven islands gets its name from being nearly diametrically opposed to London – its ‘antipodal point’ if you drew a line through the middle of the earth. While not exact, the Antipodes are the closest land in the Southern Ocean to the exact antipodal point of London.
On a clear blue day, we arrived after a morning at sea having left Campbell Island the night before. Most of us had been out on deck all morning enjoying the sun and the seabirds, skimming behind the ship over calm swells. The weather was looking good for our plans to zodiac in Ringdove bay, on the sheltered east coast of the island.
Beginning at Albatross point, we were treated immediately to views of a rather special penguin species – the Erect-crested penguin, which breeds mainly on the Antipodes, but also the Bounty Islands. Unfortunately, like Eastern Rockhopper penguins, the number of Erect-crested penguins is declining. High up in a cave on rugged cliffs, lit by a massive ray of afternoon sun, their tufty yellow crests glowed. We’d see more and more of them as we made our way along the coastline, in colonies stretching up steep rocks.
New Zealand fur seals went extinct on the Antipodes after intensive sealing in the 19th Century. They’re making a huge comeback. We found them everywhere along the boulder beaches at the bottom of the cliffs, lots of youngsters, and a few Subantarctic fur seals as well, distinguished by their contrasting pale markings. Elephant seals were also scattered on the rocks, doing impressive imitations of boulders.
Eastern Rockhopper penguins also breed on the Antipodes, but this individual seemed more interested in chasing the larger Erect-crested penguins around!
The Antipodes are impressive, with steep but lush cliffs sliced by waterfalls. One of my favourite parts of our afternoon there was hearing and seeing Light-mantled albatross soaring along the cliffs in their synchronised pair-flights. There is something about their two-tone wheezing call – it takes me right back to the time Tui De Roy and I spent watching a group of six on Campbell Island all calling and displaying to one another – one of my favourite memories from my last adventure in the subantarctic. Here on the Antipodes, their nests are tucked among the grasses on ledges barely wide enough to sit on – every now and then I could spot a smokey brown almond-shaped lump that would resolve into a sitting albatross through my long lens. Too far away to be worth taking photos – but just to have them flying overhead is amazing.
The first of the two endemic parakeets that we spotted were Reischek’s parakeets, fluttering from rocks and disappearing into the coastal grasses. With a large birding contingent on this expedition, there was a lot of frantic radioing and chasing about in the zodiacs to get views of any parakeet that popped out of the green for long enough to be identified. In this situation, I probably could have used the 200-500mm on the D500 to get closer photos – but my zodiac setup puts the 80-400mm on the D700, and the 18-200mm on the D500. For me, the 200-500mm is much too ungainly for zodiac cruising, especially when the weather and the seas are unpredictable. Plus the versatility of the 80-400mm is ideal when you end up quite close to some subjects – like seals and penguins! 
It wasn’t long before we found an Antipodes parakeet as well. They’re the largest of all New Zealand’s parakeet species, and lack a coloured crown. It was scurrying through the rocks around a small gathering of Erected-crested penguins and the odd fur seal, and all five zodiacs vied for room in the small bay. As you can tell, our sunny weather had not held, and we were caught in the first of several rain squalls that would pelt us throughout the afternoon.
Exploring the eroded sea-caves was next as we made our way up along to coast towards Leeward island. There’s plenty of these rugged holes, with high vaulted ceilings and Fairy prions fluttering like white moths in the darkness. With the reflection from the sky cut out, the water shades to a fathomless inky blue. I love sea-caves, they’re like natural cathedrals with walls sculpted by the rough waves of the roaring forties.
Here comes the rain… 
What’s a zodiac cruise without getting properly wet? We did find another sea-cave to hide in for a while, but the swell made it a little dicey to go too far inside.
As the afternoon ended the rain moved off and we sat in still waters. Fairy prions fluttered past, close enough to touch, swooping low around the zodiacs. As we headed back towards the ship, hundreds of seabirds began returning to their nests as evening fell. We had to leave for the Bounties as soon as everyone was back on board, which meant rolling through the bar hour and dinner (always good fun) as we headed into open ocean once more.
The Antipodes were a special experience. I’d love to land there one day and visit the high tussock plains, spot the snipe, and see the Antipodean albatross. But staring up the towering cliffs, cruising along a shoreline bursting with wildlife, and witnessing the return of the seabirds that call it home as the sun began to take on a golden evening glow was spectacular. With the Million Dollar Mouse program, we can look forward to an even more vibrant future for this remote island – soon to be free from invasive mammalian species just like Campbell Island.
