Antarctica: Sometimes half of the fun is getting there.

Zach and I have always been drawn to sights and adventures that are grand in their simplicity, comforting in their remoteness, and perfect in their natural state. So when deciding how to conclude our year around the world, it seemed beautifully fitting to jump on a last minute ship to Antarctica. Spending ten days sailing to and from the most isolated, serene and untouched continent on our planet certainly merits a few of its own posts. I’ll kick it off with the eventful crossing of Drake Passage, a notoriously unforgiving, turbulent and cold stretch of sea that has claimed the lives of thousands of ships and sailors since its debated date of discovery in 1578.

Docked at Ushuaia, excited to take off for Antarctica!

Our adventure began with a routine champagne toast from our character of a captain, whose heavy Russian accent and peculiar phrasings made him seldom understood but exceptionally entertaining. As luck would have it, our ship, the Plancius, happened to be setting sail straight into a storm, to which I think the captain alluded to in his toast with some amusing oratory to the point "da weader is good but porheps da weader get nyet good." Well okay then. Cheers to the storm.

As suspected, the Drake welcomed us to her open seas around midnight as the gentle rocking that we fell asleep to rapidly escalated to violent movement that sent us from side to side and end to end of our cots, and even dislodged a few lucky passengers completely to the floor.

Wave report Zach looked up pre-departure. Headed straight for 6-10 meter waves!

For the next two days, the ship seemed half as full as most passengers stayed in bed in drug induced slumber (except for when they were thrown to the floor). Winds roaring up to 50 knots and swells maxing at 25 feet created a boat experience I thought I would only ever witness in film. Those of us (fortunately this included me and, for the most part, Z) who were able to venture out of their cabins bounced from wall to wall down the halls, stumbled around common areas and tried our best not to crash into absolutely everything, including one another. Mealtimes were particularly eventful. First was the struggle to get from the buffet line to one’s seat without throwing your food or yourself onto the floor. Once seated, you had to eat constantly prepared to hold your plate and glass in place with one hand and grab onto the table with the other to prevent sliding to the complete other side of the dining room. The juxtaposition of the white table cloths, wine service and gourmet food with the chaos of constant spills, crashing plates and shouts of startled passengers created quite the unique dining experience.

Often Zach and I spent time in the bridge where we’d try to eavesdrop for insight on the storm and ask the crew a slew of questions, as well as listen to the odd tidbits and jokes no one really understood from our eccentric captain. Among our many questions were some regarding the storm’s effect on wildlife at sea. We learned that the whales were essentially unaffected—that they were just as present as a clear day, but we simply could not see them in the rough seas—and that the albatross and other large sea birds actually thrived in these conditions—that soaring the strong winds minimized the effort they needed to exert flying. Their ease and elegance with the storm contrasted with our maladroit struggle underscored how foreign, delicate and contrived our presence was in this harsh region. 

A shot of the bow enduring one of many impressive wave hits.

The very capable albeit casually dressed captain flanked by some crew members in the bridge.

After two full days of getting tossed around like toys, I woke early to sun shining in through the window and stillness within our cabins. I felt like a child on Christmas day as I hastily bundled up and went outside for my first fresh air in days and my first magical glances of the Southern Continent. I went to the very bow of the ship where the fresh and freezing wind whipped my face and I could have an unobstructed view of icy islands, dark waters and clear blue sky. Watching the sea birds soar alongside our ship I thought I saw a large fish coming rapidly to the surface. Only when it leaped into the air did I realize it was a penguin. It was the perfect welcoming to the three day dream that was Antarctica.

:)