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South of All Borders

by William H. Schlesinger

My wife, Lisa, and I were looking for something different for the holidays, so when Duke Alumni Travel asked if I would lead their trip to Antarctica, we jumped at the opportunity. On Dec. 21 we headed south, first to Miami, then on to Buenos Aires, and Ushuaia, Argentina, where we boarded the modern cruise ship, Corinthian II. After a bilious night in Drake Passage, some of the roughest seas on Earth, we awoke to the sounds of “anchors-away” off Penguin Island, on the Antarctic Peninsula.

Penguins are why you go to Antarctica—Adelies, with their wide-eyed childlike innocence; chinstraps, looking ready to join a marching band; and gentoos, whose colorful feet guide your eye to each of their awkward terrestrial footsteps. As with all ecotourism to Antarctica, our encounters with penguins were carefully regulated under the provisions of the Antarctic Conservation Act; one must keep a distance of 15 feet from the birds.

Penguins grace this otherwise stark landscape as the contrast between life and death. They have survived for millions of years in this ecosystem, where shoreline gravesites show the untimely end of many early human explorers and where the ocean’s waters and icy crevasses hide the fate of many others.

Of course, we sailed on in the warmth and luxury of our ship, enjoying the food and company with our fellow Duke travelers, and observing an ecosystem of simplicity—krill in the ocean, penguins that feed on it, and leopard seals that relish an unlucky penguin for Christmas dinner. Take a species out of a forest, and one might not immediately notice its loss, but remove a species from the Southern Ocean and its absence from the food chain will change this ecosystem forever.

There are signs of human impact at this far end of the Earth. In October, NASA’s Web site showed that the ozone hole had appeared earlier and deeper in austral spring of 2005 than ever before. Is the Montreal Protocol failing to protect it? Are exemptions, such as the request of U.S. farmers to continue to use methyl bromide, sapping its protective intent? With a light meter from the Nicholas School, I measured the ultraviolet light at noon each day. Even in December, when the ozone hole should have healed, ultraviolet- B increased from 1.46 Watts/m2 in Buenos Aires, to 2.11 Watts/m2 at 65o S, our southernmost excursion. And there are already reports of increasing cataractlike clouds in the eyes of penguins.

It was spring in Antarctica, and everywhere ice was melting. Long-term records show a dramatic trend of warming on the Antarctic peninsula, and other studies show declining populations of penguins in response to changes in the distribution of krill and sea ice. Recent studies of 6,000-year-old penguin bones from Antarctica document a slow evolution of their DNA compared to that of living Adelies, but will they adapt fast enough to the new, warmer climate that we are imposing from our industrialized world?

In earlier times, sailing ships made routine stops on Antarctic islands to restock their stores with fresh penguin meat. Mercifully that abuse ended many years ago, and today, I worried only that our excursions to shore might be disturbing penguins during the short season of their nesting. Such is the dilemma of ecotourism: each cruise ship carries about 100 passengers to this unique land, where they come to appreciate how critical it is to preserve Antarctic ecosystems and how vulnerable they are. Penguins may be indifferent to us, but Antarctic travelers become ambassadors for their protection.

I relish my next encounter with these creatures for the deeper perspective and understanding they bring of the marvels of life’s adaptation to an extreme environment and my renewed commitment to protect the planet from our effluent and impact. When I walked back into the dean’s office, I started 2006 knowing fully the importance of our work in the Nicholas School.

William H. Schlesinger is dean of the Nicholas School and James B. Duke Professor of Biogeochemistry.