On Location: The Black Sea
October 7, 2011A palette of white darkening to slate-grey painted the storm clouds around the ship as we steamed in the direction of Yalta, Ukraine. As it turned out, we weren’t the only ones caught out in the driving rain and wind on this particular day in the Black Sea. Some migrant land birds, on their way to wintering grounds far to the south, had found themselves in a bit of a predicament.
It wasn’t clear if they had made a decision to risk a flight directly across the Black Sea on their way south, or if they had rather overshot land on their travels the previous night. But either way, the Clipper Odyssey, a ship of steel that would normally be completely uninteresting to any bird, had overnight become an emergency landing-pad oasis surrounded by hundreds of square miles of an otherwise hostile environment.
The fallout began with a lone pipit perched on a wire near the ship’s stern during breakfast. But within a few hours, roving bands of chiffchaffs and wagtails flitted around the outer decks, taking shelter in any nooks and crannies they could find, only sallying out to attempt to snatch hawk moths, which were quite abundant in number themselves.
Robins, blackcaps, and even a nightjar rounded out the menagerie of 30+ birds, which was beginning to feel a bit like something out of Noah’s Ark. By tomorrow, the ship will pull into Yalta, and the birds will no doubt make a B-line for the green forested hillsides for a real meal. Once their energy is restored, they’ll have to come up with a new and better plan for how to safely get past the Black Sea on their journey south.
On Location: The Black Sea
October 7, 2011 | Tags: Black SeaA palette of white darkening to slate-grey painted the storm clouds around the ship as we steamed in the direction of Yalta, Ukraine. As it turned out, we weren’t the only ones caught out in the driving rain and wind on this particular day in the Black Sea. Some migrant land birds, on their way to wintering grounds far to the south, had found themselves in a bit of a predicament.
It wasn’t clear if they had made a decision to risk a flight directly across the Black Sea on their way south, or if they had rather overshot land on their travels the previous night. But either way, the Clipper Odyssey, a ship of steel that would normally be completely uninteresting to any bird, had overnight become an emergency landing-pad oasis surrounded by hundreds of square miles of an otherwise hostile environment.
The fallout began with a lone pipit perched on a wire near the ship’s stern during breakfast. But within a few hours, roving bands of chiffchaffs and wagtails flitted around the outer decks, taking shelter in any nooks and crannies they could find, only sallying out to attempt to snatch hawk moths, which were quite abundant in number themselves.
Robins, blackcaps, and even a nightjar rounded out the menagerie of 30+ birds, which was beginning to feel a bit like something out of Noah’s Ark. By tomorrow, the ship will pull into Yalta, and the birds will no doubt make a B-line for the green forested hillsides for a real meal. Once their energy is restored, they’ll have to come up with a new and better plan for how to safely get past the Black Sea on their journey south.
On Location: Sumela Monastery
October 5, 2011We stepped out into the cool crisp air of a shaded streamside valley in northeastern Turkey. The temperature here in the mountains was noticeably different than the Black Sea coast from where we came, some 4,000 feet below us. Imbedded in the cliff face high above our heads sat the spectacular Sumela Monastery, its buff-colored stone glistening in the bright morning sun.
Local vans whisked us up the final bit of narrow winding road, but the last 300 meters to the Monastery could only be tackled on foot. The dense forest canopy broke at times to reveal the peaks on the mountain ridge across the valley, well above the tree line. After scaling a final stone staircase, we descended into the Monastery itself.
As we strolled around the courtyard and ducked into the rooms, we couldn’t help but imagine the isolation that the monks must have experienced in this far-removed retreat. Intricate frescoes adorned the walls and ceiling of a cave-like church, and the idea that all of this was constructed between 300 and 1300AD on a sheer cliff added to the magic of this stunning place.
On Location: Sumela Monastery
October 5, 2011 | Tags: Sumela MonasteryWe stepped out into the cool crisp air of a shaded streamside valley in northeastern Turkey. The temperature here in the mountains was noticeably different than the Black Sea coast from where we came, some 4,000 feet below us. Imbedded in the cliff face high above our heads sat the spectacular Sumela Monastery, its buff-colored stone glistening in the bright morning sun.
Local vans whisked us up the final bit of narrow winding road, but the last 300 meters to the Monastery could only be tackled on foot. The dense forest canopy broke at times to reveal the peaks on the mountain ridge across the valley, well above the tree line. After scaling a final stone staircase, we descended into the Monastery itself.
As we strolled around the courtyard and ducked into the rooms, we couldn’t help but imagine the isolation that the monks must have experienced in this far-removed retreat. Intricate frescoes adorned the walls and ceiling of a cave-like church, and the idea that all of this was constructed between 300 and 1300AD on a sheer cliff added to the magic of this stunning place.
On Location: Istanbul
September 29, 2011The chaotic heartbeat of Istanbul was unmistakable. As we wandered from stall to stall, merchant to merchant, in the narrow alleyways around the Spice Bazaar, the age-old commerce that has been a central theme to this great city was evident all around us. Istanbul’s prime location at the border between Europe and Asia, and on the Bosphorus Strait between the Mediterranean and the Black Sea, secured its fate long ago as a crossroads for culture, religion, and trade. Now, in the 21st-century, although much has changed throughout its history, so much of Istanbul remains the same.
Shortly before sunset, we found ourselves gathered on the Clipper Odyssey’s outer decks as she plied the narrow strait north towards the Black Sea. The sun’s low angle light illuminated the domes and minarets of the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sofia, grandiosely perched above the Golden Horn in the old part of the city. As we passed beneath bridges decorated with an ever-changing show of lights, we watched the myriad of ships, ranging from small yachts to huge tankers, that use this greatest of maritime superhighways.