It was December 24, the 11th day of the cruise, as we arrived early in the morning at Salisbury Plain. As soon as I woke up I went up to the lounge and the bridge to examine the beach with my binoculars. Earlier in the morning I had been startled awake by strong winds roaring past my porthole so I was doubtful of our ability to make a landing. Sure enough, when I got to the bridge I discovered that the wind was gusting to 80 knots, definitely too high to be moving around in a zodiac. David decided that we would sit in the harbor for a while and wait to see if the winds might come down. After an hour or so with no apparent diminishing of the weather David and the captain made the decision to start the several day journey to the Falklands. The exact duration of our journey would be dependent on weather but the plan was to arrive early enough to explore some landings around the region before finishing up the trip in Port Stanley.
The scenery that we were leaving behind as we set out to sea.
Personally, I was happy with the decision as my efforts to fend off the cold had failed. Being at sea for the next few days meant the bug infecting me could run its course and I would not necessarily miss anything. Sure enough for two days straight, December 24 and 25 I spent most of the time sleeping as my body tried to fight what I consider the worse cold I’ve had for the last ten years.
But while I had a quiet Christmas most of the rest of the ship enjoyed some festivities. As soon as we headed out to sea the staff dug out the Christmas decorations and dressed the ship up in holiday colors. People were encouraged to participate by making a snowflake or other decoration to hang around the lounge. Christmas dinner was planned for December 24, a day early in the hopes that we would not have yet hit rough water. The passage between South Georgia and the Falkland Islands was expected to be our most challenging stretch of water to cross, pitting us directly against prevailing winds and the Antarctic Circumpolar current. Even though I was in pretty bad shape from the chest cold I had contracted I was still curious to see if I would develop sea sickness too.
The Christmas celebrations appeared to go smoothly. From what I could tell everyone had a great time on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, with some singing and even a bit of dancing late one night in the bar. Finally on December 26 I started to feel human again as the cold ran its course. After two days of sea travel we still had approximately two more days to go before reaching our destination. Early morning I had woken up to howling wind and some fairly violent boat movement, even hearing the bow slap down with a big grinding thud in response to some incoming waves. We found out in the morning that the captain had to slow the boat down in an attempt to keep the motion less provocative. Nonetheless there was constant in motion, the ship seeming to etch out a corkscrew type of trajectory as it met each wave. Only during brief periods, however, was it so bad that I felt like I would be tossed around if I wasn’t holding on to something. Certainly moving around the decks required keeping one hand on the ship at all times!
Lying in my bunk I I could really feel the boat’s gyrations. I was constantly moving and swaying, almost like the ship was rocking me to sleep. Sitting in a chair reading or at the table eating, showering, every aspect of life was accompanied by fluid motion that did not quite establish a predictable pattern of pitch, roll, or yaw. Nonetheless I kept subconsciously trying to find a rhythm or predictable sequence of movements, especially when lying in my bunk. Sitting here writing this I am wondering what it will feel like to be on land where everything is stable and stationary- would it feel unnatural after four days of being tossed around on the turbulent seas of the South Atlantic? I was finally satisfying my curiosity about what it would be like to be on a small-ish ship out in the big ocean. My few trips on large cruise ships in past years were unsatisfactory in answering that question. They were so large, and stayed in relatively sheltered areas so that there was never any noticeable movement. As we traveled between South Georgia and the Falklands I was getting the experience I was hoping for—and finding out that I apparently do not get sea sick. Yay for me!
Typical beach scene all over the place.
Once I was feeling well enough to start mingling and participate in some of the social activities that marked our time at sea I found plenty to keep me occupied. There were educational presentations two or three times a day covering a plethora of subjects related to the history or natural science of Antarctica as well as some practical tips on photography and photo processing. A few of us started a jigsaw puzzle club, taking over a portion of the library table to serially work our way through the three 1000 piece puzzles that were on board. One group set up an ongoing card game. Many people spent time processing and cataloguing the hundreds of photographs that had been accumulating from the start of the trip. Reading, journaling, and casual conversations filled out the rest of the time. Of course, eating and sleeping were the foundational activities that everything else revolved around. It was a relaxed, unhurried kind of lifestyle as we formed our own small world on an ocean of water completely cut off from the rest of the population of the planet. For all of us it was a strange little interlude; one where we simply just existed, drifting with the days, waiting to see what would happen next as we were at the whim of the wind and the weather.
One of the treats we were afforded was a tour of the ship. I was super excited about this opportunity as another goal of mine has always been to see the engine room and the galley of an ocean going vessel. Eagerly I showed up at the recepetion area on the morning of December 27, our last day at sea before arriving in the Falklands. Our tour started on the bridge, a place with which I had become very familiar having spent many an hour here searching for wildlife through the binoculars and conversing with Vladimir, one of the bridge officers, in Russian from time to time. During our brief visit to the bridge we learned a bit more about the charts and navigation and some of the history of the ship. Then, finally, we headed to the engine room and it’s adjacent control room. It was no surprise to find the engine room hot and very noisy. Only one engine was operating, meaning that we were topping off at a speed of nine knots. The ship could do 13 knots under power of both engines. It was so interesting to see how it all was organized, how big the equipment was and how clean it all was. The control room was equally fascinating and while Katie, our staff tour guide, provided some of the general background I put my Russian skills to use and read the panels, dials and controls scattered around the room. The galley was not on the tour but Katie offered to show it to me after the crowd dispersed. A few others caught on and accompanied us. The galley was fairly large and what was really impressive was the very large refrigeration compartment a deck below that housed all of the food stores for the trip. Another mysterious part of the ship revealed to me, I counted the day complete even though it was only late morning. Another box checked off my list!
The day passed leisurely with the major event of note being the reappearance of land out the port windows about mid-day. We were almost at our destination and looked forward to some wonderful landings the following day.
The scenery at sea was dramatic too. This is a shot of one of the large icebergs we ran across.