This was an expedition to a white wilderness, an unexplored continent, the world’s most desolate region. It was also a voyage of discovery.

The scenery was striking - floating icebergs as tall as skyscrapers, many of them sculpted by wind and water into fantastic creations, floating ice packs, a few so huge they are as large as some of America’s states.

The star attraction was the penguins, gentle little fellows who were in no way daunted by me or my equipment, but even when I walked among them were so inquisitive that they would come hopping over to check me out.

In their noisy, crowded colonies, they stood about, watched over their unhatched eggs, or swam porpoise-like near the shore where they fed on krill. That is, when they weren’t mobbing me.