Talent Show
It’s not so much where you go that matters, but who you go with.
On our final day of expedition—a calm passage of serene blue water and bright sunshine that ended on the green summer shores of Tierra del Fuego—I was able to revel not only in where we’ve just been but also appreciate all these people around me.
Morning began with an inspiring talk by Sisse Brimberg and Cotton Coulson, a husband and wife photography team with over a half-century of combined experience at National Geographic. Their retrospective of images and anecdotes transformed the ship’s lounge into an art gallery and we were all reminded that beneath all the hi-tech gadgetry of modern photography, taking pictures is really about capturing and relaying beauty to others.
In the afternoon, a modest guest from Manhattan offered up a recital of songs to the rest of us - including a flawless rendition of Mozart’s Abendempfindung (Thoughts of Evening) - while her friend accompanied her on piano. This musical teatime was accompanied by a feast of Swedish pancakes, made by real Swedes and smothered in cloudberries and fresh cream. Delicious.
Here was a woman who once sat next to me bundled up for some bumpy zodiac ride through South Georgia and now here she stood singing, so elegantly. As her pure vocal solo rang through the bistro and restaurant, I looked around at all my other fellow travelers—the pensive faces of so many new friends:
. . . the one sweet lady who recommends that I visit the old churches of Malta whose husband was the first man to drive a car across Bolivia, the just-retired couple headed on a hiking trip to Bhutan, the bright young couple who quit their jobs in the big city to go see the world, the bearded poet who last night recited a 5-page passage of Salinger over dessert, the nurse who bounds up to every new bird and snaps each animal portrait with utter joy, the Hawaiian who’s run 50 marathons—one in each of the 50 states, the retired schoolteacher who has walked across England and back again, the Canadian doctor who keeps going back to Myanmar, the man who was the first to climb Vinson Massif—the highest peak in Antarctica—and his wife who writes river guides for the Grand Canyon, the ornithologist who spends her summers counting birds on Mt. Saint Helens, the amateur magician who does card tricks at the bar, the ham radio enthusiast who painstakingly sets up his equipment on every remote beach we land on and sends his scratchy messages from the bottom of the world, the Lindblad naturalist who’s adding the finishing touches to his traditional Japanese timber house, the woman who takes whale biopsies with her crossbow, the polar diver who loves invertebrates that don’t even exist in most people’s minds . . .
To call my fellow travelers “interesting” is trite and incomplete. To say that they are cosmopolitan and accomplished is true but also insufficient. The point is that Lindblad attracts a certain type of person and these people are wonderful travel companions.
Tonight we docked in Ushuaia, our expedition accomplished, our sights set on home after 22 days of what was a most incredible voyage. I have traveled 4,744 miles with these people— together we have jumped continents, slid down mountains, scrambled rocks, skirted blue icebergs, dodged skuas, fended off fur seals, scrubbed the penguin poop from our boots, laughed at clumsy petrels, drank toasts to Shackleton, plunged into freezing water, kayaked around glaciers, and chased whales with our cameras. It has all been so amazing.
Last week, a terrible earthquake struck Chile—such a terrible tragedy. The effects of this disaster have rippled their way to us so far away as our return flights through Santiago have been cancelled or delayed. With astute and quick thinking, Lindblad Expeditions has chartered a flight for all of us back to America—in my fellow passengers’ words, this is a truly “class act”. Nobody’s complaining—we are all seasoned travelers and know that natural disasters and delays happen. The good news is that we now have a few more hours together.
Even if everything went wrong and for whatever reason, we had to stay on the ship waiting in port for a while longer, I doubt there would be any strife. If today’s events have taught me anything, it’s that if we ever were stranded, we would have no problem entertaining ourselves. This ship is packed with talent and passion—it’s been a real privilege to travel among such amazing individuals. Antarctica was a great destination, but already, we have the whole world right here, right now.
