… was kind to us and we had a rapid 48 hour crossing, only suffering from some large Southern Ocean swell that passes for calm in this part of the world, but I’m rushing ahead of myself.
Ushuaia or ‘fin del mundo’ really does feel like the end of the world. Colourful from a distance, as it clings beneath the snow capped Andes as they peter out into the seas around Tierra del Fuego, close up it is a frontier town. It is dominated by hard faces, run down cars and feral dogs. Here, in mid-summer, the cold Antarctic wind was the only hint of what lay 500 miles south and 2 days sailing away over the horizon.
First sighting of out ship – Professor Multanovskiy was a shock. It was tiny and rusted compared to the enormous Marco Polo berthed next door!! In fact it almost looked no bigger than a Marco Polo life boat!! It was indeed tiny (only 12m across) and 65 m long, but it quickly became home for us and the other 46 passengers. Our cabin was compact and last decorated in 1980s Russia and was without facilities – so the toilet and showers were a short haul down the corridor and shared with about 6 other cabins. Gill, you would have hated this part, but actually they were fine and didn’t bother us at all and there is an art to using either facility in the swell.
The ship’s crew was Russian, there was the captain, navigator, first mate, a few engineering types who had oily hands all the time, 2 waitresses and two Argentine cooks. They were the permanent crew who spent the summers either in Antarctica or the Arctic as the ship moves north in the northern summer.
The dining rooms, had tables for 6 or 8 and the chairs were bolted down and tables covered in plastic sheets. Glasses had to be stored in wooden stabilisers and there was a pile of sick bags next to the salt!! In the circumstances food was great – each meal started with soup – so Derek and I used to fight to sit at the end of the tables in order to serve the soup and get the seconds!!!
The bar was small and the drinks were so cheap – too cheap if you know what I mean.
The expedition staff were assigned just for a few trips per year and they were specialists in their fields. They were lead by the swashbuckling Martin from Sweden who was a polar scuba diver and wildlife photographer – he was in charge. His team included Jeff, the author of the Antarctica Lonely Planet, Tony – the humorous ornithologist, an ex British civil servant who was indulging himself by spending every summer bird watching in Antarctica. (knew everything there was to know about penguins, petrels and albatross), Jamie – a British marine biologist (who loved krill, seals and whales) an aussie geologist, geomorphologist and glaciologist and Matt the aussie doctor who was not getting paid but was on a free trip – he had been on a waiting list to do this for 3 years. . Not only were they the resident experts but they doubled up as guides, zodiac drivers, expedition planners, our dining companions and bar mates to boot Their enthusiasm was contagious and they were having as much fun as the rest of us, because for them it was paid holiday doing what they loved.
We were under no illusion that this was an expedition and not a cruise. Where we would land and how far south we would go would depend on the weather and ice conditions and so nothing was guaranteed. The bridge was open 24 hrs a day and we were often there for discussions between the captain and the team leader on where we could get to, as they poured over charts and weather forecasts. We were there when a distress signal came in from another ship – but we were at least 2 days sailing away thank goodness.
Our aim was to cross the Antarctic Circle and be the first ship that far south this season and indeed in 2008. But as we set off nothing was guaranteed.
I’m racing ahead again as I am actually still buzzing as I write this in El Calafate nearly a month later and the buzz is incredible.
We sailed out of Ushuaia at 6pm and headed south down the Beagle (as in Darwin) Channel on a beautiful sunny (but nippy) long summer evening. We were so excited, cameras already clicking like mad as we saw our first Wandering Albatross and patterned Cape Petrels gliding effortlessly in the updrafts as the followed the ship. We had a pilot for the first 4 hours until we got to open water. Martin then made an announcement that the pilot had left the ship and were on our own and heading south – oh shit!!
We felt the swell almost immediately and it was soporific (or was that the overdose of seasickness tablets that we were all doped up on). The crossing is legendary as we have to sail across the main current which circumnavigate the continent and at 90 degrees to the prevailing furious fifties and screaming 60s for 2 whole days. On average the weather fronts and low pressure storms follow each other every 35 hours, – but we missed them (on both legs) which was a tad disappointing. Although I have been assured by everyone who did experience such a storm that we were the lucky ones. In between sleeping and eating, we enjoyed the bracing decks, watching the swell, the birds and the moody skies It really felt as if we were leaving the rest of the world behind us as we dropped off the end.
Ushuaia or ‘fin del mundo’ really does feel like the end of the world. Colourful from a distance, as it clings beneath the snow capped Andes as they peter out into the seas around Tierra del Fuego, close up it is a frontier town. It is dominated by hard faces, run down cars and feral dogs. Here, in mid-summer, the cold Antarctic wind was the only hint of what lay 500 miles south and 2 days sailing away over the horizon.
First sighting of out ship – Professor Multanovskiy was a shock. It was tiny and rusted compared to the enormous Marco Polo berthed next door!! In fact it almost looked no bigger than a Marco Polo life boat!! It was indeed tiny (only 12m across) and 65 m long, but it quickly became home for us and the other 46 passengers. Our cabin was compact and last decorated in 1980s Russia and was without facilities – so the toilet and showers were a short haul down the corridor and shared with about 6 other cabins. Gill, you would have hated this part, but actually they were fine and didn’t bother us at all and there is an art to using either facility in the swell.
The ship’s crew was Russian, there was the captain, navigator, first mate, a few engineering types who had oily hands all the time, 2 waitresses and two Argentine cooks. They were the permanent crew who spent the summers either in Antarctica or the Arctic as the ship moves north in the northern summer.
The dining rooms, had tables for 6 or 8 and the chairs were bolted down and tables covered in plastic sheets. Glasses had to be stored in wooden stabilisers and there was a pile of sick bags next to the salt!! In the circumstances food was great – each meal started with soup – so Derek and I used to fight to sit at the end of the tables in order to serve the soup and get the seconds!!!
The bar was small and the drinks were so cheap – too cheap if you know what I mean.
The expedition staff were assigned just for a few trips per year and they were specialists in their fields. They were lead by the swashbuckling Martin from Sweden who was a polar scuba diver and wildlife photographer – he was in charge. His team included Jeff, the author of the Antarctica Lonely Planet, Tony – the humorous ornithologist, an ex British civil servant who was indulging himself by spending every summer bird watching in Antarctica. (knew everything there was to know about penguins, petrels and albatross), Jamie – a British marine biologist (who loved krill, seals and whales) an aussie geologist, geomorphologist and glaciologist and Matt the aussie doctor who was not getting paid but was on a free trip – he had been on a waiting list to do this for 3 years. . Not only were they the resident experts but they doubled up as guides, zodiac drivers, expedition planners, our dining companions and bar mates to boot Their enthusiasm was contagious and they were having as much fun as the rest of us, because for them it was paid holiday doing what they loved.
We were under no illusion that this was an expedition and not a cruise. Where we would land and how far south we would go would depend on the weather and ice conditions and so nothing was guaranteed. The bridge was open 24 hrs a day and we were often there for discussions between the captain and the team leader on where we could get to, as they poured over charts and weather forecasts. We were there when a distress signal came in from another ship – but we were at least 2 days sailing away thank goodness.
Our aim was to cross the Antarctic Circle and be the first ship that far south this season and indeed in 2008. But as we set off nothing was guaranteed.
I’m racing ahead again as I am actually still buzzing as I write this in El Calafate nearly a month later and the buzz is incredible.
We sailed out of Ushuaia at 6pm and headed south down the Beagle (as in Darwin) Channel on a beautiful sunny (but nippy) long summer evening. We were so excited, cameras already clicking like mad as we saw our first Wandering Albatross and patterned Cape Petrels gliding effortlessly in the updrafts as the followed the ship. We had a pilot for the first 4 hours until we got to open water. Martin then made an announcement that the pilot had left the ship and were on our own and heading south – oh shit!!
We felt the swell almost immediately and it was soporific (or was that the overdose of seasickness tablets that we were all doped up on). The crossing is legendary as we have to sail across the main current which circumnavigate the continent and at 90 degrees to the prevailing furious fifties and screaming 60s for 2 whole days. On average the weather fronts and low pressure storms follow each other every 35 hours, – but we missed them (on both legs) which was a tad disappointing. Although I have been assured by everyone who did experience such a storm that we were the lucky ones. In between sleeping and eating, we enjoyed the bracing decks, watching the swell, the birds and the moody skies It really felt as if we were leaving the rest of the world behind us as we dropped off the end.
