Antarctica - The White Continent. A mythical place in the minds of travellers that has always seemed to be one of those dream destinations that you assume you'll someday see but always just a bit out of reach. After a bit of planning and research, I found that a few last minute specials (almost 50% off) make it much more affordable than I once thought, though it still certainly isn't cheap. Nevertheless, it was a place I knew I wanted to visit, and stories and images of the pristine continent cluttered my mind as I realized that this incredible destination would soon become a reality for me.
In the minds of many, Antarctica may simply be checking a box for visiting each of the seven continents, just a big block of ice without offering much more interest or adventure. Digging deeper, I found the potential for so much more. People are blown away by the beauty, the wildlife, the landscapes - every bit of it. Now that I was in Ushuaia, staring across the water at the pier, watching my boat get ready for the trip, I couldn't shake the anticipation, the excitement of knowing that I was just a few hours away from being on the boat and a few days away from actually seeing this far-off place.
Passing through a few port security checkpoints (and strangely being asked a few separate times if I was a passenger or crew), I arrived for the 4 pm check in, though we were all a bit disappointed to find that the ship wouldn't actually leave until 7 pm, so we had a little while to wander around and explore the ship. While I had hoped to get lucky and not be assigned a roommate, the alternative wasn't bad, as I was paired up with a like-minded backpacking Canadian chef who quit his job to come down to travel South America. Fortunately, we got along quite well, and Tim proved to be as good of a roommate as I could hope for. After some boarding formalities, the ship finally embarked in the late afternoon light, slowly leaving Ushuaia behind as we headed through the scenic Beagle Channel. Bordered by mountains falling into the sea, bathed in the warm glow of the evening sun, the beginning of our journey was pretty in its own right, though our minds were now fixated on Antarctica. Soon, we came upon another small village on the South side of the channel, Puerto Williams in Chile, though by this point, the village was no more than a few sets of lights breaking through the darkness of the night. Later in the night, a small vessel caught up to us, and it turned out to be a special pilot required to navigate part of the channel, so he boarded the boat for a while, steered through the channel and then went back to his small outpost somewhere in the middle of nowhere.
Soon enough we were in the infamous Drake Passage. This stretch of water reaching from the tip of South America down towards the outer islands of Antarctica is known as one of the most treacherous bodies of water in the world for sailors, often pitting the ships against massive waves and swells, along with the potential for strong winds and rain. I read stories before boarding about huge waves pounding the deck of the ships and numbers ranging from 50-75% of the passengers being sick and confined to their rooms when given a bad day on the water. Being a bit prone to seasickness, I brought along some pills and wristbands that help ease the nausea, but I was still a little worried about this part of the trip. Though it's usually rough, in which case travel agents like to tout the "Drake Shake", there are random periods of calm, where they dubbed it the "Drake Lake," so I was certainly hoping for the latter.
On our way down, it seems we had a fairly typical, though definitely not terrible, experience with the Drake Passage. The ship continually pitched and rolled, sometimes making huge sways that would send passengers grabbing for anything in reach and almost tipping people over in their chairs, which were luckily all chained down to the floor. During this long two day stretch, I mostly spent my time laying horizontally in bed, which seemed to help me feel more or less fine, though I could feel the onset of seasickness anytime I went up to the dining room/lounge on the top level with huge windows and sweeping views of the volatile water. I tried a few meals, but with the three course service, I usually didn't make it through the entire sitting, often just grabbing a few rolls or some snacks and heading back down to our cave. Fortunately, the small room with two double beds, a little dresser and closet had a small flat-panel tv in which they'd show a few movies every two hours or so, so that helped keep Tim and me entertained. (Tim was taking some pills that made him drowsy, so he mostly napped the way through the passage as well.) From those that managed the somewhat rough ride, I heard stories of large albatrosses and a few other birds following along the back of the ship, and a few pictures confirmed that fact, but I certainly didn't have the endurance to head out and find out for myself.
During the two days at sea, the crew also offered a few different lectures, in both English and Spanish (it's a Chilean ship, registered in Belize), about the history and wildlife of the epic continent, though I decided that I didn't want to push my luck, so I remained in my room for most of those. On our voyage, it seemed that the dining room for most meals was about half full, with the amount of people coming up to the top decreasing as the days passed. Despite being a long time to wait at sea, the two days actually passed more quickly and more painlessly than I had anticipated, so given my expectations, I was fairly content to lay in bed and pass the time as we made our way down. I was also quite happy to find my roommate and a group of about 8-10 backpackers on the trip, as opposed to some older clientele that we all feared would be the norm for a trip like this. We figured that being the last boat of the season, it was probably more likely to have more young people, as the runs at the start and end of the season are often the ones with a few last minute openings, bringing out a few budget travellers willing to make a bit of a splurge for a trip like this. There were offers for two other ships, but I chose the Antarctic Dream because it seemed to be a bit higher quality and had nicer rooms, instead of inner rooms with bunkbeds and shared bathrooms, each of our rooms had a window (though a tiny one that was kept shut during the passage) and attached bathroom. More impressive to us budget travellers was the quality of the meals and service, far exceeding our expectations.
After two days of rough water, rolling up and down through the waves and troughs day and night, we were getting close. The anticipation was building as we were given a briefing after dinner on the 3rd night on the boat, realizing that we had made it past the Drake Passage and were now almost within reach of the first group of islands. My mind raced as I tried to fall asleep, not knowing what to expect, almost like a kid on Christmas Eve, excited but just wanting the night to pass and to get on to the main event - Antarctica.
(Getting ready to board the MV Antarctic Dream on my 11 day/1o night trip down to Antarctica. For some reason, the port agents at a few different checkpoints asked me if I was crew or just a passenger, so I guess I was giving off that working class vibe. Maybe it's the pushed-up sleeves and no-nonsense strut.)
(Though we were supposed to be there by 4 pm, the ship didn't actually depart until about 7 that afternoon.)
(Penguins and icebergs in the logo...basically that's what we're all there for.)
(On the top deck, there's a helipad and the Zodiac rafts that we'd use for the excursions to shore, assuming the weather and water wasn't too rough.)
(Leaving Ushuaia in late afternoon light, the Beagle Channel was quite scenic, though a few were disappointed to spot Puerto Williams on the Chilean side, proving that Ushuaia isn't actually the Southernmost city, unless that one isn't a city. Whatever.)
(As darkness set in, so did a few ominous looking clouds. The Beagle Channel was nice and calm, though the open water of the Drake Passage isn't always so kind. Being a little prone to sea-sickness and spending two days motoring over what can be some of the most treacherous seas in the world, I ended up spending most of the passage laying in bed, listening to music and watching movies on our tv.)
(I don't know what exactly this is, but we had breakfast buffet and three course lunch and dinner every day. The food was well-prepared and way better than the common backpacker fare that a lot of us were used to, so we obviously took advantage, especially starting a trend of lining up for the dessert bar of cakes and fruit before it was even completely set up.)
(My small room with a tiny porthole that they actually closed during the crossing. Surprisingly, the rooms and beds were quite comfortable, and I got very lucky by getting a great roommate - Tim, a Canadian chef/backpacker about my age. He also brought a massive bag of Skittles, so that always makes everything better.)
(Another of the well-prepared and presented meals during the crossing. Although the food was good, many of the passengers skipped most of the meals during the crossing, opting to stay in their rooms and just wait for the rough seas to pass. Though it can be terrible, we had a sort of mild to medium version of the rough seas. I took sea-sickness pills, and I was healthy enough while laying in bed, though I started feeling worse up on the main level, so I often retreated back to the room for the selection of 3-4 movies on closed circuit tv.)
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