Sole survivor!
At the Cruceros office – where we obtain our boarding passes for a four day cruise that takes us down to Cape Horn, through the Beagle Channel, and up through the Magellan Straits – they presented us with a double-sided Disclaimer of Responsibility form to sign and date. Basically they will take responsibility IF we have a good time. If ANYTHING else happens, and the disclaimer contains a long list of possibilities, including drowning, we are on our own.
We board the Mare Australis and are immediately shown to our spacious cabin. It has a queen-sized bed and a large window, much larger than a mere porthole.
The ship is divided into those that speak Spanish and those that don’t. We have one foot in either camp, but for the Safety Demonstration we choose to receive our information in English. Let’s not kid ourselves! Francisco runs through the demonstration, taking care to outline the dangers; the possibly treacherous seas, including the not insignificant fact that more than 10,000 people have drowned and 900 ships have sunk in the Cape Horn area. He pauses to gauge our reaction … and wishes us a pleasant journey.
Early morning view from Cape Horn
We leave Ushuaia in calm seas, dining on excellent food and fine Chilean wines. The service is second to none. Next morning we arrive at Cape Horn at the crack of dawn. Mare Australis drops anchor and we all clamber on board Zodiacs, wearing all our wet-weather gear and bounce along a choppy sea to the Cape Horn outpost, where a lone Chilean soldier, his wife and two daughters, man a tiny lighthouse. This is the end of the world (or is it the beginning?). There is nothing between here and the Antarctic some 1,000 kilometres away. We bring with us supplies of fresh fruit and vegetables; the last fresh supplies they received were in April. A cold wind whips up constantly and fiercely. The Chilean flag hangs high on a mast; the constant winds tear it to shreds such that it has to be replaced every year.Back on the boat we take off our sopping clothing and wait in anticipation to see whether we will be able to ‘round’ Cape Horn. It is so treacherous that the weekly Australis cruise usually only gets to ‘Round the Horn’ three or four times a year – we are in luck. The Captain says the conditions are good … only a little later do we realise what this means! Think 10,000 lives!As we get out past the Horn it appears conditions are not going to be so smooth. The Australis lists violently and dips deep into the troughs of crashing waves. I look around and those of us who are sitting in the forward deck lounge have suddenly become very pale. An Aussie girl rushes to the bar and throws up in the sink – drinks on the house! The lounge starts to thin out, people disappear to the privacy of their rooms. Another Aussie woman is sitting there blankly, her mouth pursed shut, her face white as a sheet. The first Aussie woman’s partner is staring out to sea, looking drained, trying to maintain a constant horizon. Paul rushes off to worship a porcelain bowl. I am beginning to feel queasy, a little woolly around the knees, unsteady on my feet (come to think of it where are my feet?). Gill is stoical and makes her way up to the top deck to take in the view. Naturally she has the deck virtually to herself. We find out later most of the crew have gone down, retired to their cabins. Finally the seas die down and people begin to emerge from their cabins looking a worse for wear.
In the late afternoon we are back out on the Zodiacs again, motoring into Wulaia Bay. We hike up a steep mountain and sit down at the top to witness the sunset and take in the breathtaking views. This is pristine environment, the stuff of history books – Magellan (the journey that ended his life and proved beyond all doubt that the earth was round), Darwin, Cook and Drake among others.
What are you looking at?
After dinner has been served and the last cocktail has been poured and drank, and only when the cabin is not threatening to turn upside down, I retire to my bed to re-read Bruce Chatwin’s beyond excellent, In Patagonia, and step back through the annals of time.
Other than our ship of 69 passengers (including 8 Aussies and approximately 20 crew) and the odd lighthouse keeper, we haven’t seen another soul in four days. Sadly the tour has come to an end and as tempting as it is to shell out the $$$, hop back on board and relive the experience all over again, there is more of Patagonia to explore.
Being a finger puppet, it's easy to get lost in the crowd. Sure, being small has its advantages; like sneaking into clubs, travelling around the world for free, etc etc ... but often I don't feel people hear the real me and when they do they giggle and stroke me. I can hear them now "Oh cool, a finger puppet. Isn't he cute?"
So here I am, larger than life, blogging away. You can call me Big Al.
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