Ushuaia
Our trip to Ushuaia took us through a patchwork schedule of flights and waiting-lounges. All the while, we felt the constant threat of catching COVID, and for most of the journey, we hid under a self-imposed dress of plastic and surgical masks. But, at the Southern-Most City of the World, we were greeted with the welcoming sight of an endless ocean overlooked by snowcapped ranges and colourful seaside buildings. Ushuaia is a well-travelled hub for explorers… And also tourists. Its unique location makes it the best place to set off for the Antarctic continent or check off an item on the bucket list. One surprise for both Justin and I was seeing world-renowned logos present even here in a place that seems too far from the rest of the world.
After a day of excursions into the city, we met up with other members of the 2041 Expedition in what felt like a true commencement to our journey. It was then I allowed the joy to overtake me: after months of love, support, encouragement and dedication from our team members, supporters, and mentors – we finally made it. It made me extremely humbled and determined to make the most of the trip.
The next day, together with the group, we hiked the Cerro Alarken Natural Reserve, a beautiful expanse of native flora, forest, and fauna surrounding the natural ranges. We also ascended to see the Martial Glacier with a great view of the Beagle channel – a sight foreshadowing our near future encounter with the more enormous glaciers in the Antarctic. And finally, we concluded the day with an event of beach cleaning, hoping to make minor repairs on the years of environmental littering scattered across the beach.
Ahoy and Crossing
Aboard the Ocean Victory, the most efficient Antarctic cruiser of its ship class, we were briefed on the many safety protocols and expected conditions of our journey. We would sail across the Beagle Channel of Chile, and eventually reach the Drake passage, a treacherous part of the ocean (the Halfway Convergence) where the warm currents mingle with the cold currents to produce startlingly high waves of 7-10 meters, like the movies. Yet, treacherous as they are, this part of the ocean is also where the rich bounty of nutrients coalesce. The convergence attracts a whole ecosystem of diverse sea creatures – many of which we would see on our way to the Wild Continent – krill, humpback whales, hourglass dolphins, etc.
We were really grateful that, unlike explorers of old who had only wooden ships to brave the whirling weather, our cruiser was well built to withstand the worst of the elements. To imagine the daring and skill it took to pilot through rough seas on mere wood constructions was beyond me. Still, the weather report was concerning: many windy developments indicated a brewing storm might encounter us on the way. Such is to be expected of the Antarctic weather. Never quite calm.
Being on the ship also allowed us to better know the members who will also be experiencing this life-changing experience together – that is, if we could overcome the gnawing feelings of seasickness and the drowsy effects of our sickness medication. At least good thing was that sleep became the most relaxing activity: we had the whole ship as our rocking cradle.
A beautiful sight was seeing the first snow layering on the deck. And despite the prickly winds, I did my best to gaze out across the ocean, feeling a sense of disquiet to see endless waters with no land in sight.
Fournier Bay
It was foggy that day. The cold grey blanket was thick, hiding us from the world. But as quickly as they appeared, the fogs parted to reveal land. Could it be that Antarctica had chosen to sneak up on us overnight? Big and small masses of ice stoically watched us, undisturbed by the humans peering over the rails of their big ship. Finally, Antarctica.
The speedboats, or “Zodiacs”, were black inflatables with enough space for 14 people to pack together on their floating platform. We coasted among islands of sea ice towards the sound of penguins and seals as the distant call of whales brought comfort to the cold fragile air.
One thing we didn’t rely on was rain – in a place so far from the heat of the equator. Yet it rained. Eventually, however, the clouds parted to reveal a startlingly beautiful sunset, shocking even the veteran expeditionist Robert Swan, who had come to Antarctica countless times. In its way, Antarctica was welcoming us to its shores.
