Going south for the winter is a time tested popular method in the northern hemisphere for avoiding the seasonal appearance of the cold, dark, and general miserable weather that descends on those living far from the equator. It is not uncommon for those living north of the 40th parallel to flee to Florida, Arizona or the Caribbean islands to bask in the sunlight and balmy weather of the tropics and sub-tropics. Certainly I, too, departed winter in the northern hemisphere but the summer climate I was traveling to provided no escape from the winter weather I left behind. My flight south completely overshot the temperate corridor that wraps around the center of the planet like a belt. I merely flirted with the tropics during a brief stop in Panama as I changed planes heading to my penultimate destination- the city of Punta Arenas, Chile. It too, was only a stopover, as I was headed yet further south – to the Antarctic environs for a 16 day cruise.

My journey south had nothing to do with the weather. I decided to visit Antarctica simply because it is there- a mysterious, remote, intriguing continent, one that I had always been interested in but never had the time nor opportunity to explore- until this moment! Finishing off “the great travel adventure year” (even though the anticipated year was shortened to nine months) with a trip to the one continent I had not yet set foot on seemed fitting. The tourist season in Antarctica is short, limited to the few months of the year between November and February that ships can navigate the challenging Antarctic waters. The cruises are popular despite their expense and people usually plan a year or more in advance. Consequently in late October when I started researching Antarctica I was to thrilled to find a berth on a 16 day trip cruising in December. I was going to be spending Christmas in the Antarctic! The ship itself sounded intriguing. The Akademik Sergey Vavilov, a research vessel belonging to the Russian Academy of Science still operating as an active research vessel at intervals during the year, contracts itself out to a Canadian company called OneOcean Expeditions which conducts polar cruises. It is a small-ish vessel, a little over 110 meters in length and 80 meters wide, holding a maximum of 92 passengers and combined Russian and Canadian crew of 65. With an ice hardened hull and the ability to slip into small coves and harbors it offered a perfect venue for an intense, intimate experience with the continent. The itinerary was comprehensive, not only including time on the Antarctic peninsula but also containing stops at South Georgia and the Falkland Islands, providing a broad range of opportunities to observe various kinds of wildlife.

Getting to Punta Arenas is not easy. It is at the southern most point of Chile and arriving there it really did feel like I was at the end of the Earth. Punta Arenas, a town of approximately 123,000, that sits in the Strait of Magellen at the southern end of Patagonia, is one of the two embarkation points for those venturing on tours to Antarctica. The other, Uishia, is in neighboring Argentina. Punta Arenas is squat and low to the ground, with few high buildings, no doubt to better withstand the huge, up to 150 km/hour, winds that whip down from the mountains located northwest of the city, as well as the stiff breezes that funnel through the strait.

The Punta Arenas waterfront.

Even though it was the height of summer when I arrived, the temperatures hovered in the 40’s and 50’s. The sky was mainly overcast reflecting a deep bluish-gray color, somehow not as oppressive as the bland gray hues omnipresent during the northern winters. Occasionally the sun would peek through the cloud layer, instantly adding warmth to the day. What made the weather so noticeably different, however, was the wind; it was constant and it was strong. Driving into the town from the airport I noticed numerous trees, and even a few streetlight poles that bent in one direction, driven there by the constant pressure of the wind on one side. After settling into my bed and breakfast, a small but well furnished house about a half a mile from the city center, I wandered out to explore the town. There was not much to explore. Puntas main function is not only as a departure point for trips to Antarctica, but also the surrounding parks and smaller towns further north. Shipping is also a main activity in the town, as the port provides a stopover for merchant ships to load the meat and agricultural products of Patagonia.

One of the many wind warning signs I found posted about town. The wind was blowing strongly the whole time I was there.

Wednesday evening our expedition company, OneOcean, held a meeting at a hotel in the city center to brief all of the passengers on the embarkation procedures for the following day, when we were taking a charter flight to King George Island to meet our ship. Thursday, embarkation day was a day of “hurry up and wait”. Because the weather at the island is constantly changing we had to be prepared for a potential unanticipated alteration of our departure time. The planned departure times of 13:00 and 13:30, meant gathering at the hotel, our pick up point, at 10:00 am. Moving a crowd of nearly 100 people around is not easy, but with some efficiency we soon found ourselves on the buses for the 25 minute drive to the airport, where after standing in several lines to clear customs as we were formally departing Chile, and check luggage, we found ourselves in waiting mode again. Finally by 14:30 we were in the air for the two hour flight to meet the Akademik Sergey Vavilov and the staff and crew.

Our airplane, appropriately sporting a paint scheme of a giant king penguin, landed uneventfully on a gravel runway, at Bellinghausen Station home to around 500 people from the 11 countries that have a base on King George’s island. We exited the plane to an eerily lunar-like landscape notwithstanding the many patches of snow clinging to the numerous rock formations surrounding the base. After spending some time gawking at our first glimpse of Antarctica, even if still on the edges of the major landmass, we walked the 1 km to the beach where we were loaded onto zodiacs for transfer to the ship. The base, which was really a collection of buildings scattered about that housed the Russian, Chilean, and Uruguayan contingents, had quite a bit of activity evident despite its small size. During the short walk to the beach to board the zodiacs, we had to move to the side of the road for several vehicles hauling construction materials.

The landscape that met me when I exited the plane at St. George’s Island.

Some of the buildings at Bellinghausen Base on the island.

The zodiacs, our prime ferry vehicles that will move us on and off the ship for our shore excursions, are small, capable boats holding about 12 people, and were much more steady to ingress and egress than I expected. The trip to the Vavilov from the shore was short, only about 15 minutes. It was exciting to climb aboard the ship, my home for the next 16 days, and explore the boundaries of my new world. Entering the mud-room at the bow of the ship on deck three and walking past the small reception area, I found the stairs and climbed to deck four where my stateroom was located. I expected to meet my roommate, but to my surprise and delight I discovered that I would have a room to myself for the trip- what an unexpected bonus!
After dropping off my things I continued my explorations and soon found my way to the top of the ship, deck six, at the stern, where the bar and observation deck were located. Entering the large room, built with windows on all sides affording an excellent view of the surrounding ocean, I discovered many of my fellow passengers had also drifted in. As we set underway from King George Island, snacks were served while we received our initial briefing that provided a glimpse of the days ahead. The adventure began!

On the ship with St. George’s Island in the background. We started off on a sunny day.