Antarctica Trip Part Two: Natures Statues, Green Water And The Return To Summer

After a couple days in the open sea we came to a traditionally perilous region known as Cape Horn. This is the point where the Atlantic and Pacific tides crash into each other and cause a lot of problems for skippers. Back in the day, (not a wednesday by the way...) if a sailor rounded Cape Horn and lived to tell of it in his home country of England, he would get his first beer free in any pub he entered. If he rounded it twice, the first two were on the house. But if he made it three or more times he would always drink for free. It was quite something to make it around the continent even once, and there were very few who ever did it more times due to the rough waters. We, on the other hand, had some of the calmest waters our captain had ever seen there. In other words, our weather luck continued.

We entered in the sound that surrounds that actual cape in the early afternoon. There is a lighthouse and a monument and a flag of Chile that adorn the weather-lashed point of land that juts out into the dark waters at the southern tip of the continent. On the back side of this point the waves have been crashing onto the rocks almost continuously for hundreds of years, resulting in a set of pillars that almost look like they were carved with human hands. The skies were marbled with soft clouds at this point and there were drops of rain but almost no wind. One could see, even in this calm time, that this would be a dangerous place to try to maneuver in high winds. There were rocks jutting up here and there and from what we were told, the water isn't all that deep in many areas. As we sailed on by we were boarded by a duo of Chilean Naval Captains. By law of their country, they had to accompany any foreign vessel that made it's way through their waters. They were to continue with us the next couple of days, until we made our exit from the internal waterway system, out into the Magellan Strait. For the rest of the day we watched the islands and peninsulas go by. In the far off distance, the tail of the Cordillera De Los Andes could be seen, blue and white in its splendor. These were the same Andes that I walked the Inca Trail in, the same mountains that I traversed in Bolivia, the same ones that Russell and Jennifer and I trekked around in in Bariloche. This was where they either began or ended, depending on your point of view, and from here they stretched all the way to the north of Colombia where they run into the Carribean. For me that is quite something. A thing to think about. All the different ways of life that have gone on in the same string of mountains, over a great distance, over many epochs of man. And there I was looking at the end of them. I liked that.

Early the following morning we were docked in Ushuaia, Argentina, and Manuela, our Canadian guitar playing buddy Darryl, and I disembarked to check out the glaciar that sits above the town. We had a little time to roam the quiet sunday morning streets before buying some empanadas and sandwiches and heading for the mountain. The hike was not too difficult, but the terrain was beautiful. The woods there reminded me a bit of the Rockies, with pines of different kinds and lots of clean and rushing mountain water. I guess the difference here was that it all comes from a glaciar. We made our way up the mountian and ate our lunch next to a big boulder and a chunk of glacier, looking out across the valley with the little town and its little port below. It was a nice vista...a buena vista if you will. From there we came back down with enough time to stock up on wine and get back on the boat.

That evening was, for me, the best viewing outside of Antarctica. We drifted along through the Beagle Channel, a waterway that is shared by Chile and Argentina. On either side there were large mountains shooting up with all manner of glaciars adorning them. Many of them had waterfalls launching off the bottoms of them and from what our buddy Bernard was saying, these glaciars have gotten a lot smaller as of late. When he was a young man, so at least 120 years ago, these great glaciars came all the way down to the water. Nowadays, while they are still very beautiful and magnificent, they have melted to the point of seeming high up on the mountain sides. So as we watched and oohed and ahhed at the waterfalls, we were saddened to know that that beauty was as a result of something quite sad. The water of the Beagle Channel was quite green. Not contaminated looking, but just a pleasant, emerald sort of green. I found out a little while later that that was because of the high levels of phytoplankton that live there. Everyone loves phytoplankton. The photo of the trail of the boat that I have included was taken there and you can see what the water looks like. I really enjoyed this part of the trip. The light, the clouds, the glaciars, the water; all were just right, all were comforting in the right kinda way.

The next morning we docked in Punta Arenas, which again belonged to Chile. This is a place with a lot of history as well. It is a place full of resources that the European whites wanted to control, and so they moved in and destroyed a couple of cultures to do it. Sound familiar? Here we visited a history museum that was really fascinating. Lots of relics and artwork depicting life in this harsh land in that harsh time. Tierra Del Fuego has extremely long and difficult winters. While we were there the place seemed to be hopping with tourists and townspeople but we were assured that in the 'offseason', the town was a much quieter and more somber place. We visited a cathedral and a number of different historical buildings and then climbed up to a view point that looked out across the whole town and it's environs. Here there were no towering mountians or glacial sprawls. Here it was rolling grassland and open water. Here the wind blew strong and the waves had white caps. I wasn't sad to leave that place. It wasn't a bad place by any means, it was nice in its way, but there was a lonely feeling there. A feeling that such places tend to have. I have felt it elsewhere too, at the ends of the earth, where it is cold most of the time. It has it's own meaning in each place...but to decipher it would take time, and on this day, we didn't have enough.

After that we were back on the open seas for a few days, commencing with the Strait of Magellan. Again we were blessed with good weather and no one had to vomit. The sun had started to behave more like we were used to, going down at eleven, and then ten, and then nine, and coming up later and later. It stopped being so cold and started turning back into summer. By the time we docked in Montevideo, Uruguay, it was full-on summer again, and we were sweating as we hit solid land early in the morning. I must say that I really do fancy Montevideo, and so I was happy to be back, even if it only was for one day. We ate at a Chivito joint for lunch and Darryl looked around for some rugs, a painting and a guitar. We strolled the streets and I got to see my favorite beams of light slanting in through the eucalypt-lined lanes again. I will never tire of seeing them. They are a pleasure in my life that shares a space with some other faves like travelling with the window down and listening to a person playing an instrument in another room when they think they are unheard. Good things. We left that night to make the final short stint over to Buenos Aires.

You would think that would be easy enough, but, it turned out that it was not and we were delayed a few hours getting into port by some high winds. I got off the boat at around noon and found my way back to my little home away from home on Maipu. I like that place. I now have a couple days to get things organized, and then I head north to Iguazu, to see these big waterfalls that everyone keeps talking about. Then to Brasil. It is a funny thing, how fast the time goes by you. We all feel it, but perhaps sometimes more than others. I feel it now. I have been gone for almost four months now, and honestly it feels like a couple minutes and a lifetime all in the same moment. Puts you back a step at times, the point when it hits you. I guess it is also good to remember that we are on a constant set of waves, that are always going up and down. Sometimes the waves are bigger and last longer than others, but we always end up coming down through a trough, and sometimes those troughs can catch us by surprise. Coming back from this giant trip to Antarctica, I definately find myself in a trough, not a bad trough, just a big exhaling trough. Sometimes it seems hard to see how we can ever rise up again to that same level of glory that we felt before the descent, but somehow, we always do. I suppose that is part of what makes it such a cool ride; you can't think about it all the time, you gotta just ride it. So yeah, that, in a quick little abreviated nutshell, is my boatride to Antarctica and back. I hope the end of january finds you well, and I hope all your resolutions are working out as well...your buddy, Mateo