Arriving a few days early in Ushuaia, on New Year’s Day, the most southerly city in the world and departure point of my cruise to Antarctica, was a great decision, in the end. It was summertime with sunny skies and daytime temperatures of 15-20C. The city’s population has multiplied from only 30,000 to over 100,000 in the past 15 years, thanks to exploding tourism and the need to service all those tourists. The majority of travelers quickly head off to a backpacking adventure in nearby Patagonia, an order of magnitude less expensive than a cruise to Antarctica. Ushuaia is a charming city with basically one main commercial street lined with shops, restaurants and cafés, more than a kilometer long of them. All the streets are one-way for cars, a service to the pedestrians, too, as it simplifies crossing them. All the other nearby streets are where the hotels and lodges are located, and further uphill are the small, adorable houses where most inhabitants live. There is a palpable vibe in the city which is contagious: everybody is about to leave on an adventure of a lifetime, or they have just returned from one.
Ushuaia has a lot to offer for day-trippers, too. Kayaking, cycling, hiking and touring the nearby national parks. I rented a bike my first full day and decided to cycle to the top of a nearby hiking trail. My mountain biking skills are questionable and I was not too proud to walk my bike whenever a section of the trail became too steep or too scary. After sitting in airplane seats for a day and a half, it felt great to exert myself and the views from the summit were most rewarding as well. I did attract some attention as I was apparently the only fool on a bicycle. My next day, I went for a hike with a new friend to Emerald Lake and to walk on snow at the bottom of a glacier that feeds the turquoise lake. I would soon be seeing a lot more snow!
Let’s get to the part that you have been waiting for… my cruise. It takes more than two days to sail to Antarctica. From the most southern point of South America, which I have just described, we have to sail further south by first crossing the dreaded Drake Passage. It’s known as the Drake Shake. Most crossings experience seas with 6-meter swells, and more. This, because of ocean currents from the Atlantic on the east, and from the Pacific on the west, and the narrow passage between South America and Antarctica through which these currents must pass. We are told that a few times a year, the Drake Shake becomes the Drake Lake as the waters are completely calm. Luck was not on our side and the 180 passengers onboard the Ocean Victory were all warned to take anti-seasickness pills before we left port, not to wait for The Shake. I followed the sound advice and it was clear from the sparse attendance at mealtimes for the next two days, nearly half the passengers spent this time in their cabins, seasick. The ship was rocking and swaying continually. At times it was hard to walk forward, hard to avoid bouncing off the hallway walls, hard to sit down and land squarely in the seat beneath your butt. Fortunately, I never got seasick thanks to the half portion of pills that I took, nor was I too drowsy from the pills. I had brought fresh ginger with me as I had read somewhere that ginger helps also. I chewed on a big chunk in the morning and in the evening, too. I conclude that the combination worked well for me.
No sooner are we out of rough seas, I spot my first iceberg. What a thrill! I felt amazing! It’s quite different from seeing them on television or on a computer screen. Before long, they are everywhere, big ones, small ones, white, blue, and every shade in between. One day, out on a Zodiac ride, we saw a couple that were larger than a building, a hundred feet high and five times as long. I suppose ten times that lay underwater, too. Yes, we had a Zodiac ride every day, ten of us in each rubber dinghy. We are supposed to stay clear of the big icebergs as they may calve and when a big chunk breaks off and falls splashing down into the sea, a mini tsunami results. We often spotted whales and motored over to where they were swimming to watch from up close. One can grow tired of watching sea lions, but never of watching whales. One day we saw a pod of orcas from the ship, supposedly a rare experience. I feel terrible about this, but I went to the gym twice during the 10-day voyage, and one of these workouts was during the orcas experience. While I was sweating on the treadmill, unbeknownst to me, nearly everybody else was outside on the bow of the ship taking pics and videos. In life, you win some and you lose some. I know I’ve had my share of wins.
There are also two landings every day. While half the passengers are zooming about in Zodiacs, the other half are ferried to land, ten at a time, where we disembark and walk around Antarctica for a couple of hours. There are always hundreds of penguins to admire. They waddle around, feed their chicks, maintain their nests, fish, swim and apparently, they play. It does look this way. We are supposed to keep our distance from them, 10 meters minimum. Often, however, they come walking along to within a couple of feet of where I am standing, before continuing on. Humans are not programmed into their DNA to be dangerous. So, you can stick to the law and not approach, but if you hang out in their path, one will surely pass right by you, affording you a rare close-up experience. There are a lot of other rules, too, to follow. One is that we are not allowed to bend down. I had to break this rule in order to get good photos, but then I got scolded by the staff who watch over us. Sometimes, a penguin stops at your feet and looks up at you quizzically. I was possibly the first human ever seen by one penguin or another.
It takes your breath away to be walking on Antarctica. Everything is so white, there are mountains and glaciers everywhere you gaze. If it is sunny, the blue sky reflects off the sea and the icebergs take on a blue tint near the waterline. It is surreal. Overwhelming, really. And then, the penguins. They often appear to be planning on doing something surprising, like sliding down an icy surface and dropping into the sea, one after the other. Once, from the ship, I saw a column of penguins following one another on top of a huge iceberg; when they reached the edge, they all dove off, one by one, into the sea 10 meters below, beak first. Did I mention there are albatrosses flying around, too. They are big, beautiful birds. The entire tourist ecosystem is managed very carefully here. Each ship must make a reservation in advance before sailing anywhere and weighing anchor in a cove. In our five days visiting the White Continent, we never once saw another ship. Antarctica is huge with thousands of miles of coastline. There are only fifty tourist ships permitted along its shore at any one time. I understand that there are only 70 ships in the world outfitted for the cold weather and the ice. In summer, however, the temperatures are wonderful, close to 1C or 2C degrees. Although I had read that it is much, much colder at the south pole itself, even in summer.
Get comfortable because the best part of the tale is starting. Only 70 passengers get to go out in kayaks, ten at a time, for an extra fee. I failed to win the kayak lottery and was not one of the 70 chosen. However, the first morning in Antarctica had rough seas with overcast skies and it was snowing/drizzling/windy outside during breakfast. These were borderline conditions for kayaking but the decision was made to do the tour in any case (it is cancelled sometimes). I imagined that one or two of the more timid kayakers reserved for that first morning would bail due to the inclement weather, so I went down to the third deck to learn that, yes, one person had cancelled! I suited up (everybody wears a drysuit in case of accidental capsizing), I took their place, and before long I was kayaking, two to a kayak, along with four other kayaks and two guides, one in front leading in his own single kayak, one in back in a Zodiac. I am kayaking in Antarctica!
I have to pinch myself to ensure that I am not dreaming! Our kayak smacks into icebergettes, as we paddle. Sometimes a small piece of ice floats by that is completely colourless, transparent. These are supposedly at least 10,000 years old, as all the tiny air bubbles have been compressed out of the ice over the millennia while on land under hundreds of feet of ice and snow. Eventually, this ice breaks away and falls into the sea. We brought back a chunk to mix into some drinks at the bar. As it melts, we get to drink perfectly clean and pure scotch on the rocks. Let’s get back to the kayaks! We kayak the whole morning in the choppy sea, spotting whales nearby as they surface for a breath of air after first exhaling a misty spray from their blowholes. And we see seals, some large birds and many penguins swimming by, of course. The weather has improved with drizzle giving way to some intermittent sunshine, painting the mountainous shoreline with sunny spotlights. As the Zodiac idles far behind, it is completely silent, surreal again. I can dream of kayaking every morning in the Antarctic, possibly more rewarding than yoga and meditation that millions practice just to hope to achieve this very Zen feeling.
Before signing off, I must relate how our evenings were spent. My expedition was nothing like the typical National Geographic style of cruise. Nearly all passengers were single, 30s, 40s and 50s, and ready to party. Three different pairs of DJs were flown in from the Netherlands, Germany, and the US. Sometime late in the evening, a dance party would break out. With world class electronic dance music, endless daylight (the sun never sets) offering no clue as to the real time, unlimited drinks, the parties wound down only sometime after 5am (I am told). I am unsure about other Antarctica cruises, however on this cruise, every individual had met and talked with nearly every other individual at some point, on land, on the water, or on the dance floor, allowing for unique, and occasionally long-lasting, relationships to form.
Finally, I would be remiss if I omitted reporting one of my highlights: the polar plunge. Anybody who wanted to, had one opportunity to dive or jump into the freezing cold sea and have it captured on video. A few people even jumped in, naked. Ouch! One hundred and forty of us made the choice and thus it took three hours to complete the whole process. Why so long? Each person, in turn, had to wear a belt to which a safety line was attached. Just in case. Both the seawater and the air temperature are about 1C during the month of January. Cold enough for you? I attempted a back dive and a moment later my body froze and tensed up the instant I entered the water. It felt like 30 seconds before I surfaced but that pause is probably due to brain freeze. It was difficult to take my first breath for some reason. Am I in shock? The ladder handles and steps felt so very, very cold on my hands and feet that I forget to feel cold myself. I fail to understand why, but I never felt cold from that moment on. It was more a feeling of awe that washed over me and kept me warm somehow. I basked in the emotion, chatting with the others who were around me just inside the ship's hull. Afterwards, one by one, we quickly climbed up to the topmost deck to jump into the heated pool, and meet more new friends.
I am slowly beginning to understand why the captain of our ship has been returning to Antarctica for 35 summers and is having difficulty retiring, in spite of his age. I had three long conversations with him during the voyage, and I can feel his angst. I am wondering if I would enjoy spending a summer working on such a ship, maybe doing a job like Steve’s, our onboard photographer.
