

When snow falls, he explained, pockets of air get trapped and then compressed inside glaciers over years, centuries, even millennia. “That’s the sound of the iceberg melting,” Lewis informed us. Photograph: Abbie Trayler-Smith/Greenpeace Not, it seemed, below the ocean, but into a vast cavern, where it sounded as if water was cascading from a high ceiling, each drip echoing through the emptiness.

My turn came, and I, too, was transported. “Rainfall on city streets,” said the camera operator. “Drips in a drain,” said one of the activists. Everyone listened with a similar expression of concentration and offered their own interpretation of these strange sounds. The earphones were passed from person to person. “It sounds like dripping, like the inside of a gorge.”. (Is the equipment working properly?) Then a look of bemusement. We watched his face for clues as to what he was hearing. After playing out 20 metres of cable, Lewis took off his woolly hat, put on the headphones, closed his eyes and let his ears take him down to the depths. Mapīut it was the underwater soundscape that we had come to hear. Further off, we could hear the intermittent rumbles of avalanches as mountain snow warmed and collapsed in the pale southern summer sun. Dozens of gentoo penguins swished in and out of the water. We sat quietly as the boat bobbed and drifted to within a few metres of an iceberg the size of a church. The pilot cut the outboard engine to reduce noise while the scientist, Tim Lewis, dropped the hydrophone – essentially a waterproof microphone on a long cable – into the ocean. All around us were jagged, brilliant white peaks, piercing blue glaciers and water flecked with such a constellation of ice fragments that you could imagine a sky-sized mirror had shattered on to the surface of the ocean. Our small motor dinghy was carrying seven passengers – a polar guide, two Greenpeace activists, two journalists, a camera operator and a scientist specialising in marine acoustics. We set out across the ice-filled Antarctic bay to listen for whales, but first we heard something altogether different: an upside-down sound below the Southern Ocean, something like the sound of climate crisis itself. Interact with it to unlock this achievement.Chapter 1: Paradise Harbour An ancient fizz


On the ground in the middle of the alcove is a photo. You should now be able to walk ahead to the left, across the white platforms, and then across more black platforms and to the left onto the alcove platform. Press the middle black button once so the middle statue is pointing towards you and off to the left, and press the gold button. Press the left black button once, then press the gold button to raise the white platforms. Walk across them to the right side to find another podium, one that controls the ice statues. Press the gold button to raise the platforms. To do this, from the first podium you arrive at, press the left black button so the back left statue is pointed to the left and towards you press the middle black button until the close middle statue is pointed towards you and off to the right press the right black button until the statue on the far right is pointing left towards the middle statue. When you arrive at the puzzle behind the constellation door where you need to rotate statues and make platforms rise up out of the water, the goal here is to get to the alcove in the back left corner of the room.
