About the time we finished dinner, we made our official exit from Antarctica, venturing back out into the open sea of the Drake Passage—the most tempestuous swath of ocean anywhere in the world. The 500-mile crossing between the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula and the tip of South America is by far the shortest distance from the White Continent to any other. But because there are no significant landmasses at these latitudes, the persistent westerly winds have “infinite fetch”—meaning they blow unimpeded around the full circumference of the globe, stirring the ocean into its most frenzied possible state. Although today’s seas were bigger than our benevolent southbound crossing, at about 15 feet, hardened mariners know they still only rank a 3 out of 10 on the scale of nastiness these waters are known for. Gripping the ropes our crew strung in the ship’s passages for balance, we counted ourselves lucky, as we have been all voyage.
Today’s strong wind has another wonderful outcome: the birdlife. Petrels, albatrosses, and shearwaters of the Southern Ocean live for the wind; in calm conditions, they are relegated to sit on the ocean surface, but when the wind freshens, they harness it like no other creatures, soaring for hours and covering vast expanses of ocean without ever beating a wing. They say when a wandering albatross fledges from its nest, it won’t return to land for five years. They say these birds even sleep on the wing. So between entertaining presentations by our natural history staff Krista (“On Assignment with National Geographic”), Stephen (“Hydrography: The World We Don’t Know”) and Eduardo (“The Race for the South Pole”), we watched from the bridge for some of the largest flying birds that have ever lived.
Tomorrow we will approach Cape Horn, and the continent where we will all say farewell to each other and to this unforgettable journey—but tonight, we settled in for one more meal and a toast to new friends.
