Ushuaia, Argentina and out into the Drake Passage
Our arrival at the ship yesterday was a geography masterclass. First rendezvous two days ago was Santiago, where we swooped in over the snow-capped Andes to touch down on the fertile plains of central Chile. Our long flights came from all corners of the globe to gather for this epic trip. Some had spanned the Pacific from Australia, others crossed the Atlantic from Europe, most had followed the spine of the Andes down from North America. After a day to recover, we boarded an early charter flight to trace the Andes south, over dormant volcanoes, beautiful lakes and the giant Patagonian icecap whose glaciers curled like tendrils down from its frozen dome. Then a dramatic, banking descent along the mountains of Tierra del Fuego to land at Ushuaia.
A swift transfer to a catamaran for lunch took us along the shores of the Beagle Channel, its forest slopes sheared by prevailing winds, stunted trees bent sideways like old crones. Three lucky guests spotted a condor on a whitewashed crag before the boat headed out to a lighthouse island with rock shags, nesting king cormorants, swirling clouds of terns and a colony of South American sea lions. After touching down only an hour before, here we were in the middle of wildlife documentary, sleek brown females lounging with early pups on the smooth rock, bristling black bull sea lions rearing up to challenge rival males as they came ashore. Chilean skuas patrolled overhead, dolphin gulls and kelp geese foraged along the shoreline. Then 3 hours later we were stepping ashore at the pier and boarding our expedition vessel, the National Geographic Explorer. At last! Time to make camp in our own comfy cabins, before Lifeboat Drill on deck and an introduction to Expedition Staff. Long cloud streamers spread pink shawls over the mountains as we settled for the night, our ship heading east out of the Beagle Channel, gateway to the Drake Passage.
As we slept we could feel the first heave of an unruly ocean. Bunks are the perfect refuge from a gale sweeping past Cape Horn, and by the time we rose, a magnificent sea, spangled with sunshine, was already easing: perfect timing for breakfast. Our first talk of the day was by Ian on Seabirds of the Southern Ocean, and straight after we clustered on the afterdeck to see them for ourselves: tiny, jinking Blue Petrels, the speckled Pintado Petrels, elegant Black-Browed Albatross and, supreme ocean traveler, the Wandering Albatross. This is the ultimate symbol of planet Ocean, master of time and tempest, the most consummate exponent of a life on the ocean wave. After lunch Eric gave an introduction to digital cameras and how to become a “camera artist,” prelude to some enthusiastic workshops. This was a good time to get creative outside: at this stage we had huge albatrosses hanging above the starboard rail, surfing on the updraft from a steady southwest breeze. They have been our constant escorts today as we plough south through blue seas, and unlike the Ancient Mariner, we have given them nothing but rapt admiration and in return they have brought us nothing but good luck on this fine day in the Drake.
