At Sea in the Drake Passage
“I now belong to a higher cult of mortals, for I have seen the albatross.” Today we all joined Robert Cushman Murphy in his joy over seeing an albatross.
After dinner last night we left Ushuaia and traveled down the Beagle Channel while watching for wildlife. We were not disappointed as we passed Argentina on our port and Chile to starboard. The evening was calm signaling hopes for an easy crossing of the Drake Passage. Before sunrise, light sleepers sensed a new roll in the ship and knew that we were south of Cape Horn but in our half sleep it was hard to assess how rough the seas were.
The morning dawned calm with flat seas, no whitecaps and mild weather. We had a sense that we had wandered into some protected bay. The radar, however, told a different story. With a heading of 154°, we were headed straight for the South Shetland Islands that lie just off the Antarctic Peninsula.
Those up at first light discovered that Black-browed Albatrosses were following the ship. With eight-foot wingspans these masters of the strong winds of the Drake were crisscrossing the wake. Pintado Petrels made an early appearance and these most beautiful of southern tubenoses were soon darting about and occasionally overtaking our ship to windward as they exceeded our speed with ease. And finally the grandest of all the albatrosses, the Wandering, the bird capable of circum-navigating Antarctica, made its appearance. But soon the wind dropped and it was not long before more and more albatrosses were seen sitting placidly on the sea, head tucked under a wing.
When Robert Cushman Murphy joined the brig, “Daisy,” in 1912 as naturalist he was unaware of the impact it would have on his career nor on the surprise that his wife, Grace, had in store for him. His studies resulted in his writing what would become a classic about seabirds, “Ocean Birds of South America,” a two-volume summary of the seabirds that occur where we were traveling.
Because his marriage to Grace Barstow would have conflicted with the voyage had he accepted it, Grace, indomitable person that she was, insisted on an earlier wedding freeing him for the trip that would secure his professional career. Little did either know that their efforts would land him a first, “Curator of Birds” at the American Museum of Natural History in New York City. To ease the trials of the long sea voyage, his new bride sent with him letters she had prepared in advance all to be opened on some occasion. One was to be read when he saw his first albatross. When he did, he found a letter from his professor and mentor describing his feelings when he had seen his first albatross.
Today, we joined that connection and tied ourselves inextricably with others who have traveled these waters before. Clearly we were in excellent company. And we had calm seas besides. What more could one ask for?
“I now belong to a higher cult of mortals, for I have seen the albatross.” Today we all joined Robert Cushman Murphy in his joy over seeing an albatross.
After dinner last night we left Ushuaia and traveled down the Beagle Channel while watching for wildlife. We were not disappointed as we passed Argentina on our port and Chile to starboard. The evening was calm signaling hopes for an easy crossing of the Drake Passage. Before sunrise, light sleepers sensed a new roll in the ship and knew that we were south of Cape Horn but in our half sleep it was hard to assess how rough the seas were.
The morning dawned calm with flat seas, no whitecaps and mild weather. We had a sense that we had wandered into some protected bay. The radar, however, told a different story. With a heading of 154°, we were headed straight for the South Shetland Islands that lie just off the Antarctic Peninsula.
Those up at first light discovered that Black-browed Albatrosses were following the ship. With eight-foot wingspans these masters of the strong winds of the Drake were crisscrossing the wake. Pintado Petrels made an early appearance and these most beautiful of southern tubenoses were soon darting about and occasionally overtaking our ship to windward as they exceeded our speed with ease. And finally the grandest of all the albatrosses, the Wandering, the bird capable of circum-navigating Antarctica, made its appearance. But soon the wind dropped and it was not long before more and more albatrosses were seen sitting placidly on the sea, head tucked under a wing.
When Robert Cushman Murphy joined the brig, “Daisy,” in 1912 as naturalist he was unaware of the impact it would have on his career nor on the surprise that his wife, Grace, had in store for him. His studies resulted in his writing what would become a classic about seabirds, “Ocean Birds of South America,” a two-volume summary of the seabirds that occur where we were traveling.
Because his marriage to Grace Barstow would have conflicted with the voyage had he accepted it, Grace, indomitable person that she was, insisted on an earlier wedding freeing him for the trip that would secure his professional career. Little did either know that their efforts would land him a first, “Curator of Birds” at the American Museum of Natural History in New York City. To ease the trials of the long sea voyage, his new bride sent with him letters she had prepared in advance all to be opened on some occasion. One was to be read when he saw his first albatross. When he did, he found a letter from his professor and mentor describing his feelings when he had seen his first albatross.
Today, we joined that connection and tied ourselves inextricably with others who have traveled these waters before. Clearly we were in excellent company. And we had calm seas besides. What more could one ask for?
