At sea along the coast of Argentina
The breeze is markedly cooler this morning, refreshing, temperate, like the high stratus clouds. Birds wheel about the ship, giant birds, petrel and albatross. A penguin sits atop the short chop, up and down, back and forth, reminding me of a child’s toy in a vast tub. Now it turns away and disappears beneath the waves as the National Geographic Endeavour slices through the water like an exclamation point driven across a freshly painted seascape!
We have left Uruguay, leaving behind the earth-colored estuary of the Rio de la Plata and entered the rich fishing grounds of Argentina. Small boats appear on the horizon attended by clouds of hopeful sea birds. The ocean is shallow here with a thick drama of fish across its sandy bottom, each to eat and be eaten. Friendly fishermen give us some of their catch, strange creatures with scratchy skin, mouths sharp with a myriad of teeth and small eyes high on flattened skulls, staring upward, hungry and patient before the dragging net.
Then a disturbance not too far away, first all black then white foam as water is scattered by the impact of 50 tons of muscle, sinew and blubber, again and again. “Humpback whale!” someone shouts. No, not today my friend, something less expected, right whale! It is a vast creature, huge, rotund and yet majestic like the Buddha dancing on the surface of the sea. We are surprised for we are still several days from where they gather to give birth and make love, if it is love that makes their children. I believe it is.
So this day passes. Now I walk towards my cabin, thoughtful I hope, tired I know, but not so tired that I do not take a moment to ponder one last image. I took a picture of it and added a whimsical touch that seemed to make sense to me. In the middle of our ship there is a chart in wood parquet, made of imagination, courage, beauty and adventure upon which we sail into tomorrow. Goodnight and fare thee well!
The breeze is markedly cooler this morning, refreshing, temperate, like the high stratus clouds. Birds wheel about the ship, giant birds, petrel and albatross. A penguin sits atop the short chop, up and down, back and forth, reminding me of a child’s toy in a vast tub. Now it turns away and disappears beneath the waves as the National Geographic Endeavour slices through the water like an exclamation point driven across a freshly painted seascape!
We have left Uruguay, leaving behind the earth-colored estuary of the Rio de la Plata and entered the rich fishing grounds of Argentina. Small boats appear on the horizon attended by clouds of hopeful sea birds. The ocean is shallow here with a thick drama of fish across its sandy bottom, each to eat and be eaten. Friendly fishermen give us some of their catch, strange creatures with scratchy skin, mouths sharp with a myriad of teeth and small eyes high on flattened skulls, staring upward, hungry and patient before the dragging net.
Then a disturbance not too far away, first all black then white foam as water is scattered by the impact of 50 tons of muscle, sinew and blubber, again and again. “Humpback whale!” someone shouts. No, not today my friend, something less expected, right whale! It is a vast creature, huge, rotund and yet majestic like the Buddha dancing on the surface of the sea. We are surprised for we are still several days from where they gather to give birth and make love, if it is love that makes their children. I believe it is.
So this day passes. Now I walk towards my cabin, thoughtful I hope, tired I know, but not so tired that I do not take a moment to ponder one last image. I took a picture of it and added a whimsical touch that seemed to make sense to me. In the middle of our ship there is a chart in wood parquet, made of imagination, courage, beauty and adventure upon which we sail into tomorrow. Goodnight and fare thee well!
