At Sea, En Route to Tristan Da Cunha
It seems we may have gotten out of South Georgia just in time as we sail through stormy seas today. Not the sort to cause us too much discomfort, but we’re being tossed about just enough to make us thankful for the warm, comfortable confines below decks.
Though our minds have perhaps already turned north to warmer climes, the Southern Ocean offered a few hundred miles of startling reminders of just where we still are…in Antarctic waters. The largest bergs in this sector of the ocean, the decoratively-named A-53A and A-53A1, lay wallowing in the northern limits of the Antarctic seas and almost directly in our path. At nearly 20 miles long each section is hardly of concern with modern radar making it virtually impossible for something of such size to sneak up on passing vessels. However, that’s not to say they can’t still make things interesting. Those two bergs were actually one even larger berg as recently as a few weeks ago before fracturing under the constant strain of the seas pushing it ever northward, ever eastward. So for 160 miles and throughout the night, we sailed through the icy debris from its messy break-up. Our bridge crew kept most of well to starboard, but the morning found us all waking to a glimpse of what kind of forces can move something as large as a floating, frozen metropolis. The seas tossed steadily in a constant 35 knots of wind. Low clouds hung just above the ship as we counted the hours until the front would pass and the ride would smooth.
Of course we didn’t idly stare away the time; we had a variety of activities to keep us occupied. First, we gathered in the lounge to reflect upon the sights and wonders South Georgia gave us over the past four days. Later, Jim showed us how these weather systems are driven and how to better understand their seemingly fickle nature. We also perused and marveled at each others’ photographs, not only in appreciation but also for the chance to learn from our different perspectives. And finally, our undersea specialist, David Cothran, enriched our South Georgia experience even further by offering up his dive footage for our fascination. From tiny, colorful nudibranchs to swarms of playful, boisterous fur seals, his footage revealed the beauty and charms we might have otherwise missed entirely.
At the end of the day, we realized how fortunate we have it here on board the ship; for not once did we have to tighten sails, stand watch in the crow’s nest, or conjure up a meal for our shipmates. While we relaxed and stayed dry and warm, the crew took care of from behind the scenes. And so we sail on, to a new destination, letting the Southern Ocean slap our stern as move northward; not a jarring-blow mind you, but one that reminds us of her power, but made softer by the niceties of our cozy cabins.
It seems we may have gotten out of South Georgia just in time as we sail through stormy seas today. Not the sort to cause us too much discomfort, but we’re being tossed about just enough to make us thankful for the warm, comfortable confines below decks.
Though our minds have perhaps already turned north to warmer climes, the Southern Ocean offered a few hundred miles of startling reminders of just where we still are…in Antarctic waters. The largest bergs in this sector of the ocean, the decoratively-named A-53A and A-53A1, lay wallowing in the northern limits of the Antarctic seas and almost directly in our path. At nearly 20 miles long each section is hardly of concern with modern radar making it virtually impossible for something of such size to sneak up on passing vessels. However, that’s not to say they can’t still make things interesting. Those two bergs were actually one even larger berg as recently as a few weeks ago before fracturing under the constant strain of the seas pushing it ever northward, ever eastward. So for 160 miles and throughout the night, we sailed through the icy debris from its messy break-up. Our bridge crew kept most of well to starboard, but the morning found us all waking to a glimpse of what kind of forces can move something as large as a floating, frozen metropolis. The seas tossed steadily in a constant 35 knots of wind. Low clouds hung just above the ship as we counted the hours until the front would pass and the ride would smooth.
Of course we didn’t idly stare away the time; we had a variety of activities to keep us occupied. First, we gathered in the lounge to reflect upon the sights and wonders South Georgia gave us over the past four days. Later, Jim showed us how these weather systems are driven and how to better understand their seemingly fickle nature. We also perused and marveled at each others’ photographs, not only in appreciation but also for the chance to learn from our different perspectives. And finally, our undersea specialist, David Cothran, enriched our South Georgia experience even further by offering up his dive footage for our fascination. From tiny, colorful nudibranchs to swarms of playful, boisterous fur seals, his footage revealed the beauty and charms we might have otherwise missed entirely.
At the end of the day, we realized how fortunate we have it here on board the ship; for not once did we have to tighten sails, stand watch in the crow’s nest, or conjure up a meal for our shipmates. While we relaxed and stayed dry and warm, the crew took care of from behind the scenes. And so we sail on, to a new destination, letting the Southern Ocean slap our stern as move northward; not a jarring-blow mind you, but one that reminds us of her power, but made softer by the niceties of our cozy cabins.
