Drake Passage en route to Antarctica
As the sun set tonight off our starboard bow, I sensed the anticipation of our guests as they looked out into the horizon. Many of us stared silently off into the vast Southern Ocean and began to fathom the enormity of the task ahead of us. Moments before sunset, we crossed the Antarctic convergence that marks the oceanographic boundary for the seventh continent, and after an initial surge of boisterous congratulations, a quiet settled on the bridge as everyone seemed to be reflecting on the distances traveled just to reach this point in time and space.
Since we live in world where almost every destination lies only a drive or flight away, perhaps many of us were a bit stunned to realize just how many miles, countries, continents, even hemispheres each of us has crossed to come here, to the end of the earth. Antarctica remains so remote that even in our modern world of conveniences and technology, meticulous planning and careful preparation are still required to be able to see the white continent in person. Of course for some, those very efforts are just as much a part of the attraction to come here as are the remarkable fauna and scenery that we all associate with this bastion of wilderness. Maybe it’s a desire to see for ourselves that there is still a place relatively untainted by the sins of man...a place where time is not measured in minutes and hours, but rather in seasons and millennia...a place that cannot yet be bent to our desires, but rather forces us to yield to nature’s considerable will. It is a place that shows in spite our prideful nature, we can still be humbled.
Tomorrow we will awaken only hours away from our first landing in Antarctica proper, and no doubt the days thereafter will run together, rendering it nearly impossible to distinguish one from the other. Each night will find us amazed that there is still more to be discovered and experienced. And in the end, after all the miles, landings, and images have blended into one, like the albatross and sunset pictured above, more than a few of us will still feel a sense of anticipation...only this time, it will be of when we can come back to see it all again.
As the sun set tonight off our starboard bow, I sensed the anticipation of our guests as they looked out into the horizon. Many of us stared silently off into the vast Southern Ocean and began to fathom the enormity of the task ahead of us. Moments before sunset, we crossed the Antarctic convergence that marks the oceanographic boundary for the seventh continent, and after an initial surge of boisterous congratulations, a quiet settled on the bridge as everyone seemed to be reflecting on the distances traveled just to reach this point in time and space.
Since we live in world where almost every destination lies only a drive or flight away, perhaps many of us were a bit stunned to realize just how many miles, countries, continents, even hemispheres each of us has crossed to come here, to the end of the earth. Antarctica remains so remote that even in our modern world of conveniences and technology, meticulous planning and careful preparation are still required to be able to see the white continent in person. Of course for some, those very efforts are just as much a part of the attraction to come here as are the remarkable fauna and scenery that we all associate with this bastion of wilderness. Maybe it’s a desire to see for ourselves that there is still a place relatively untainted by the sins of man...a place where time is not measured in minutes and hours, but rather in seasons and millennia...a place that cannot yet be bent to our desires, but rather forces us to yield to nature’s considerable will. It is a place that shows in spite our prideful nature, we can still be humbled.
Tomorrow we will awaken only hours away from our first landing in Antarctica proper, and no doubt the days thereafter will run together, rendering it nearly impossible to distinguish one from the other. Each night will find us amazed that there is still more to be discovered and experienced. And in the end, after all the miles, landings, and images have blended into one, like the albatross and sunset pictured above, more than a few of us will still feel a sense of anticipation...only this time, it will be of when we can come back to see it all again.
