The Lemaire Channel squeezes to barely 600 metres across while the cliffs on either side climb more than 1,000 metres straight out of the sea — a gap narrower than the peaks are tall. Walled off from the open ocean, its water often lies mirror-still, throwing back the glaciers and black rock so cleanly that expedition photographers have called it "Kodak Alley" for generations. The eleven-kilometre strait threads between Booth Island and the mountains of the Antarctic Peninsula's Kyiv Peninsula, along the Graham Land coast. A German expedition sighted the passage in 1873, but no ship risked its ice-choked narrows until February 1898, when Adrien de Gerlache steered the Belgica through and named it for Charles Lemaire — a Belgian who won fame exploring the Congo and never once set eyes on Antarctica.
Getting through still depends entirely on the ice. When pack ice jams the channel, ships give up and detour around the seaward side of Booth Island, so a clean run feels like a piece of luck earned rather than booked. The northern entrance is guarded by the twin Una Peaks, and once past them the ship idles between the cliffs at walking pace while everyone crowds the outer decks — this is a scenic cruise, not a shore landing. Passengers scan the floes for crabeater and Weddell seals stretched out in the sun and the black water for the humpback, minke and orca that gather here, most reliably in the settled calm of February and March. Even in the long polar dusk, when the sun barely dips below the peaks, the ice along the shore glows blue and gold for hours.