Drake Passage
After casting off from Ushuaia, Argentina, the National Geographic Endeavour traveled south-southeast through the night, leaving green clad Tierra del Fuego behind on our journey towards the great white continent of Antarctica. Cape Horn, the southern tip of South America, was sixty nautical miles behind us as we awoke in Drake Passage.
Winds from the west, turning to the southwest later in the day, made for fine conditions for sea birds. We were in the company of royal and wandering albatrosses (no birds, anywhere in the world, exceed the wingspan of these two massive fliers), their smaller cousin the black-browed albatross, cape (or pintado) petrels, and other aerial acrobats. Rarely flapping their wings, the avian escorts kept our attention as they repeatedly made close flybys of the ship. In the afternoon, naturalist Richard White’s presentation “Southern Ocean Seabirds” helped in our understanding of these compelling birds.
The ever changing sky provided us with magnificent lighting, from leaden to clear blue. Cumulus and stratus flowed into one another. The oceanic surface sparkled at times and, at others, took on deep hues of blue, aquamarine green.
Late in the day, National Geographic photographer Jay Dickman walked us through the process that he follows in creating, researching and photographing a photo essay for the National Geographic magazine, in this case, a story that he did about the Yukon River. A wide ranging question and answer session followed.
Heading to bed as the long day lingered towards night, there was an air of great excitement at the thought of waking up on our final approach to Antarctica.
After casting off from Ushuaia, Argentina, the National Geographic Endeavour traveled south-southeast through the night, leaving green clad Tierra del Fuego behind on our journey towards the great white continent of Antarctica. Cape Horn, the southern tip of South America, was sixty nautical miles behind us as we awoke in Drake Passage.
Winds from the west, turning to the southwest later in the day, made for fine conditions for sea birds. We were in the company of royal and wandering albatrosses (no birds, anywhere in the world, exceed the wingspan of these two massive fliers), their smaller cousin the black-browed albatross, cape (or pintado) petrels, and other aerial acrobats. Rarely flapping their wings, the avian escorts kept our attention as they repeatedly made close flybys of the ship. In the afternoon, naturalist Richard White’s presentation “Southern Ocean Seabirds” helped in our understanding of these compelling birds.
The ever changing sky provided us with magnificent lighting, from leaden to clear blue. Cumulus and stratus flowed into one another. The oceanic surface sparkled at times and, at others, took on deep hues of blue, aquamarine green.
Late in the day, National Geographic photographer Jay Dickman walked us through the process that he follows in creating, researching and photographing a photo essay for the National Geographic magazine, in this case, a story that he did about the Yukon River. A wide ranging question and answer session followed.
Heading to bed as the long day lingered towards night, there was an air of great excitement at the thought of waking up on our final approach to Antarctica.
