Tierra del Fuego by horseback

In addition to setting out on our own, the ship sets up a number of tour options for us at each port. There’s always at least one bus tour of the adjacent town, usually one that concentrates on history, etc. Usually at least a half dozen options, a pretty good variety, and often we have trouble deciding which one to go on. So far we’ve taken a history tour, a sheep ranch, sea kayaking, white water rafting, orchid farm, and wandering lost on our own. Generally we, and a by now familiar group of fellow travelers, take the more adventurous trips. Today was the scariest of them all (at least for Phil) - horseback riding.

Turned out to be scary for Margie, too, as they wouldn’t let her remove the saddle from her horse. So she went on the longest ride of her life with a saddle, and he went on the longest ride of his life period. Roughly two hours on a beautiful trail that wound through representative terrain for the island. Margie was on a gelding that didn’t just blindly follow the horse in front, so she saw short sections of trail the rest of us didn’t. Phil was on the tallest gelding of the bunch, who liked to go fast and lead, so he learned how to say “Para” (Spanish for “Whoa”). Both horses were very friendly, responsive and intelligent, and we both had a great time. By the end of the ride we were both sore, some of us more than others. Phil needed lots of TLC!









The weather started out cold and windy, but turned into an absolutely beautiful sunny warm day. So when the ride was over we wandered around the town of Ushuaia, Argentina for a little while. In the process Phil noticed the barn roof (he’s sure it needs reinforcing, but was unable to convince anyone else), and the local Bomberos Department, with cold weather pumper/tanker/rescue truck and their logo of a penguin throwing a bucket of ice cubes on a fire.



As evening approached, and we set sail to cross the Drake Passage en route Palmer Station, Antarctica, the wind started to pick up. We had been hoping to have one good storm at some point in the trip (while safely ensconced on board), and this was looking promising.



The ship has 12 decks. 1-4 are closed to passengers, 5-10 hold cabins, dining rooms, theaters, shops, library, etc. 11 and 12 have the pools and jacuzzis, informal dining areas, sun decks, tennis, golf and gym, and in the front a sitting area called the Palm Court. Quiet music, lounge, comfortable chairs, good lighting, and plate glass windows looking over the front and sides of the ship. The top of the ship also has the most movement when there is any sort of swell, so the adventurous set often go up there after the evening show to watch sunset and enjoy the ride. And last night there was a RIDE! Waves were reported in the 18 to 24 foot range, wind at 85 knots. No word on maximum for either, these were the sustained values. 85 kts, 98 mph, is somewhere in the Hurricane Category 2 or 3 range, I think. Occasionally the pitch and roll of the ship would coincide just right with a quartering wave and send spray over the 11th floor Palm Court windows. When it finally got dark at 11pm we reluctantly gave up our vigil and went to bed.

Upon waking this morning we noticed the seas were calm and there was land on both side of the ship. We should be half way across the Drake Passage by now, no where near any land. And the wind blows an average of 330 days of the year here, usually at least gale force. Something’s wrong. Did the Captain make a wrong turn, and we’re in the South Pacific instead of the Antarctic Ocean? Turns out that shortly after we went to sleep the pitch and roll and a really big wave coincided perfectly, and knocked out the windows in three starboard deck 5 cabins. We’ve seen the waves break over our port deck 5 window, so we can imagine what it would have been like to be sleeping soundly, only to be woken up by very cold sea water and hurricane winds joining us in our bed. Time for some serious panic, I think. No one was seriously injured, emergency repairs were affected to keep out most of the water, and the ship turned around and headed back to Ushuaia. And there we sit. The pier is full, so we can’t dock. The wind is too high to safely run tender boats. So we’re in port but not allowed off the ship.

All is not totally boring, though, as the ship still needs to be made seaworthy. And three 4'x4' holes that close to the waterline is not seaworthy. The central stores of this ship must be truly amazing, as they had three spare windows tucked somewhere aboard ship, along with the tools and expertise to change them. The Captain positioned the ship to shelter the starboard side as much as possible while simultaneously minimizing the roll, and men working inside and outside replaced the windows. Phil volunteered his crew, but that was politely refused so he could only supervise.