Chapter Fifteen

               Cape Narciso, as Detective Andrews name it, is a large, ice-capped island. It is mysterious as it can appear and disappear from one’s peripheral vision due to thick fog banks, pumice rafts from underwater volcanoes, floating icebergs, and freak breakers. As we came nearer the ice shelf edges, the combers moved slowly in. We need an ice boat or something to reach the low-lying coastal area along the Peninsula. Luckily, matted clumps of vegetation have been swept off the dry land. The long, narrow mass of land along the northern borders of Antarctica is thick with layer of ice and snow, which can exceed 1,200 m deep. A lone mountain range is half-covered by a glacier, very high, all white, and seemed to extend to the sky with its peak visible only with the beaming light of the crescent moon. It is already midnight when we reach the dry bank. We walk in silence, wary of the foreign but spectacular land