At Sea
We steam northward, or so we are told by the mate. He points at the radar, at the chart, at the Global Positioning System and at a sun too high in the sky to be helpful. I am not sure. I remain doubtful. It does not seem possible that we are really going anywhere. The sea is gentle, almost soft and the birds are still with us. Yes, I see our wake and it is straight. But look, it fades long before it reaches the flat horizon, long before the Infinity Point where Antarctica lays. The sea, the sky and the birds are endless. How can we be going anywhere when all directions seem the same?
The pintado petrels fly in broad circles, in groups, mostly soaring, watching us with one eye, their neighbor with the other. They are black on white, intricate and beautiful. We could watch forever and never tire of their slow dance, ever changing like a flame. In a different place they would be painted ponies galloping to and fro over a sea of grass. Yes, I am doubtful, but not uneasy. I feel relaxed, lulled by the day, the sea, the birds and our recent experiences in Antarctica. I am excited too. We are in the Drake Passage, Antarctica behind us, Tierra del Fuego ahead and how many times has anyone been here!
I do not care about the Global Positioning System. Everything has changed. I know that some bit of me will always be here. This is part of traveling the Southern Ocean, exploring its islands and its one continent, Antarctica, timeless, endless. I will always remember that sea star, peeping under that ledge, straining to see without eyes. That’s how I feel now and it is not bad, strange, but quite pleasant really. I guess I’m just a tad small to live timelessly and see endlessly, but here in the Southern Ocean and along the shores of Antarctica I have indeed touched infinity! And you know what? Everything changes when you do that, in a good way.
We steam northward, or so we are told by the mate. He points at the radar, at the chart, at the Global Positioning System and at a sun too high in the sky to be helpful. I am not sure. I remain doubtful. It does not seem possible that we are really going anywhere. The sea is gentle, almost soft and the birds are still with us. Yes, I see our wake and it is straight. But look, it fades long before it reaches the flat horizon, long before the Infinity Point where Antarctica lays. The sea, the sky and the birds are endless. How can we be going anywhere when all directions seem the same?
The pintado petrels fly in broad circles, in groups, mostly soaring, watching us with one eye, their neighbor with the other. They are black on white, intricate and beautiful. We could watch forever and never tire of their slow dance, ever changing like a flame. In a different place they would be painted ponies galloping to and fro over a sea of grass. Yes, I am doubtful, but not uneasy. I feel relaxed, lulled by the day, the sea, the birds and our recent experiences in Antarctica. I am excited too. We are in the Drake Passage, Antarctica behind us, Tierra del Fuego ahead and how many times has anyone been here!
I do not care about the Global Positioning System. Everything has changed. I know that some bit of me will always be here. This is part of traveling the Southern Ocean, exploring its islands and its one continent, Antarctica, timeless, endless. I will always remember that sea star, peeping under that ledge, straining to see without eyes. That’s how I feel now and it is not bad, strange, but quite pleasant really. I guess I’m just a tad small to live timelessly and see endlessly, but here in the Southern Ocean and along the shores of Antarctica I have indeed touched infinity! And you know what? Everything changes when you do that, in a good way.
