Leah and I wrestled our way into pricey polar drysuits in preparation for kayaking in Chiriguana Bay, a protected inlet on the southern end of Brabant Island in the Palmer Archipelago.

We strained to pull our heads and hands through unforgiving latex gaskets that promised to seal in our body heat while preventing icy water from infiltrating our suits, effectively turning us into human buoys in the event of a capsize.

We boarded our Zodiac, and raced around a steady stream of bergy bits,

before reaching a string of tandem kayaks already moored in the bay.

Each of us performed a precarious “shoehorn” transfer into our kayak seats without incident. At once, Leah and I fiddled about–making adjustments to our outfits and gear–until we reached a level of comfort to maximize our paddling efficiency. Surprisingly, at 32^o F / 0^o C with clear skies and sunshine, it felt warm enough to remove my gloves.

After safety instruction from Stephanie, our kayaking guide, we glided through the bay in unison for a closer look at our surroundings,

all the while following Stephanie’s lead.

The stretch of blue ice,

and white serenity–occasionally interrupted by the distant thunder of calving ice–left us breathless.

Before we realized, our 45 minutes of paddling had come to an end. Drifting on the Southern Ocean, time seemed to stand still, as if the rhythmic waves that rocked us held the secret to eternity.

Coming up: a journey to the depths of the ocean floor…