Letters from Lisa

Excited to announce that I’ll be heading to England at the end of this week - have uploaded the travel plans into a special Google Map. Zoom out to see all my different stops! (I’ll be adding details as they become available.)

View Lisa’s Earthwatch Expedition and Hadrian’s Wall Excursion in a larger map

I’m in a reflective mood and looking over some old journal entries… posting the ones that I think are worth reading. This one was from November 2003. At the time, I was in my last year of graduate school, first year of assistant teaching, and over the summer had taken one of my very first solo trips. I like this one because it captures the essence of why I travel. It’s also quite indicative of the basic feeling I had through my twenties, that being present in the everyday world, with people, was a struggle and a distraction from the “world out there”, rather than PART of the world and something worth exploring.

alone

Over the summer I had this amazing euphoric period. I was out doing amazing things I had never done before, stepping way outside my normal routine and exploring sides to my personality that usually lay dormant or underused. I felt this overwhelming sense of optimism and basic peace with the world. For once I saw beyond the walls of my room, and the skyline out my window, and I knew that other things were out there — things that had nothing to do with me or any human being, things outside of our narrow little history and time and idea of what it was to live.

It’s this odd human conception that everything has to MEAN something. Or that things should be a “certain way”. It’s a wonderful capacity to find patterns and connections that our brains have, and a terrible curse. Because you don’t find any other animal or plant or fungus or living cell asking itself why it exists, or if it dare disturb the universe. It lives because living is what living things do. And it dies because living things eventually die. Along the way things happen to it, and it makes things happen, and it all goes on. It’s amazing, and it’s beautiful, and it’s very much outside what I usually contemplate in day to day experience. I think about my job, and I think about being alone or being with people, and whether my muscles ache or my head feels clear, and I don’t think about the fact that there are deep oceans filled with living creatures we’ve never seen. I don’t think about the people I’ve never met and the stories they’ve lived. I don’t think about the stars, because where I live they’re blocked by the bright lights of the city. I get pulled down into the little grey pocket that is my corner of the universe, and I forget that there’s a world out there. I forget that I’m living.

There was this one night in particular, over the summer, when I was out patrolling the beach on St. Croix and we were digging up a turtle nest. Someone had to take the spare radio and finish the patrol alone, in case any adult turtles should come up while we were working. I took the extra radio and my dying flashlight and started walking. It was just me, the loose sand, the fading light of the moon on the ocean, and the vines growing sea grapes. At that moment I could have been the only person on the face of the Earth, that is how alone I was. I thought about my students, about people I loved and people I’d lost, and then my thoughts fell away and I kept walking. And then I started singing. Why not sing, when there was no one who could hear and giggle at me for doing it?

And then, I saw a dark shape sitting on the edge of the beach, jutting out past where the waves were lapping the shore. I checked the posts to see where I was, and if I wasn’t passing by the same log we’d passed a hundred times. The light was very dim, and my flashlight was failing, but somewhere in the darkness the shape moved, and moved again. My heart was pounding as I fumbled in my bag for the spare radio, which I’d never thought I’d need.

“You’ll never believe this,” I told the radio, “but we’ve got a turtle.”

Another volunteer had to rush the scanner over so we could wave it over the turtle’s flippers and find the electronically implanted ID number, and I had to crouch behind the massive animal and tug on its back flippers to attempt to read its metal tag, although the moon was nearly gone and I didn’t have enough light. Mostly I had to wait, and sit with the turtle as it made its way up onto dry ground to do what it had come to do. So I sat and watched. The scanner arrived, and the turtle’s barcode popped up in its blinking window, and we scribbled the numbers onto the official data sheet. But then we sat and waited again, and watched the turtle in silence.

It was the most connected I’ve ever felt to the world, to all the creatures who live in it. It was all exciting and new, and I didn’t know what was going to happen, or what I was going to do when it happened. I just knew I was seeing something ancient and beautiful, older than the sand I was sitting on, and I wasn’t distracted by idle chatter or worries about whether things were the way I expected them to be. That first time I was frightened to patrol without the other volunteers, but then I enjoyed walking the beach alone. I savored the chance to watch the waves, or look up and see the Milky Way’s trail across the sky, or sing profound and silly music while making little sneaker-prints in the sand.

What I’ve done, since I’ve returned home and faced the realities of the fall and winter, is to retreat. I’ve tunneled as far into myself as I can go. Occasionally I pick up a book or a thread of an idea and my mind races ahead of me, and I recognize the shadow of the feeling that occupied me months ago. But mostly I stumble through my days, feeling very little, seeing even less. Nothing very much registers. People are an irritation, a distraction from the monotonous hum of waking existence. When I am reached for, when demands are piled upon me, I want to pull away, to wiggle out from under the burden.

Despite occasionally wishing for more company, I think my basic loneliness stems from the recognition that I am worn out by people, worn out by trying to know and to love, and worn out by the struggle of trying to recover something that I once had and lost. The very idea of meeting a stranger and going through the whole dance — I don’t entertain it often, or for very long. I am at odds with myself over it, because I know that the nature of humans is and should be social, because no person could survive totally alone and without friends or love or affection. But often I think that would be simpler for me. There would be nothing else to lose. No intrusive memories or regrets to push away. Maybe I could be that solitary figure back on the beach, singing to the waves, radio stuffed safely into the bottom of my bag in case I ever really need it, but hoping that the need does not arise soon.

Here’s my 13 days in Antarctica, boiled down to 5 minute clips:

Nothing like hearing “Let It Snow” in a place where it NEVER snows… I spent last Christmas and New Year’s in Hawai’i.

Collection of photos from my recent Earthwatch expedition in Iceland. Sad to say, I accidentally erased all of my video footage - but this gives a bit of the idea.

The purpose of the project was to collect data about the glaciers in Southern Iceland. As these glaciers press down, they form large pools of water underneath them. This water drains out as rivers, but can also collect over time underneath the glacier. Eventually, the glacier’s ice starts to float on top of the water, because ice is less dense than water, and when this happens, the water bursts out and causes destructive floods. Scientists want to figure out ways to predict when this might happen, and where the floods are likely to go.

It’s also possible that the glaciers will be affected by global warming and that this will lead to changes in how and when they produce these floods.

One of my boys came in to the science room this morning to drop off some materials for me. While we were chatting, he suddenly got a twinkle in his eye and said, “Oh, and I have a dare for you.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Which would you rather do - eat a spider, or lick the science room floor?” Satisfied smug, thinking - I’ve got her now.

I quickly glanced down at the floor, still smeared yellow and pink from Friday’s prop painting session. Then I smiled back up at him, and with a matching twinkle in my eye, said,

“Well, I’ve eaten ants before. So a spider wouldn’t be so bad.”

He grimaced and started to back away. “I was just joking…”

Lesson learned: Do not try to out-gross the science teacher. Especially if she’s been to Australia. It’s like Fear Factor out on those tours. (The ants tasted like Sprite and are said to be very high in Vitamin C.)

3:30 pm back on Eastern Time (in Bogota)

My nerves are quite frayed but I’m slowly recovering. I had to go through immigration and customs and then - most ridiculous of all - had to exit the airport and walk back in, only to find that I’m stuck dragging my suitcase around until 7. After incoherently asking for help in a few places (everyone is too busy to help) I found my way up to the 2nd floor where there are restaurants (well - is McDonald’s a restaurant?) and I called my parents from a phone booth, got some pesos, and now I’m drinking Dunkin’ Donuts. Looking around, there are a lot of people here with suitcases. I feel better already, just seeing that I am not alone. I have to admit, I got pretty panicked when I had to leave the airport and came back in and when I was told to wait for 4 hours but I had no idea where to go. There are a lot of police patrolling around. As well as some airline personnel. I am really ready to be off this roller coaster. It’s very warm and humid in the building - adding to my general feeling of misery. I’m already in the lightest clothing I own. I feel like taking 7 showers in a row.

Amazing how the Antarctic already feels so distant. And in geographical terms, it is. I’ve traveled the length of South America in the past day. Tonight I’ll travel half a continent more. It almost doesn’t feel real. I feel a bit trapped, like I’ve been here for the entire trip and never anywhere else. Of course that is just from being tired and traveling a very long way.

I can’t believe the money system here. Some of the numbers on the bills are astronomical. I have a bill in my pouch that says 20,000 pesos. I guess the currency must be very devalued. Pesos in Argentina were about 2.5-3 for the dollar.

about 4 pm I can’t believe how quickly I am running out of pages. Well, all I’ve had to do recently is write - all this waiting, waiting, waiting.

It’s too hard to shop with my bags in tow. I gave up after two bookstores and one souvenir stand. Now I’m at a pizza place having - what meal would this be considered? Lunch I suppose. I don’t even know. Afternoon tea.

It makes me sad to think about Antarctica right now. The ship was a very comfortable and safe place. You always felt there were people looking out for you. It’s corny to say it feels like a family, but it sort of does. Or barring that, a camp or school group. I really enjoyed it. I had people around when I wanted them, and time alone when I wasn’t feeling social (or well). There was always something new and beautiful to look at. I’ll really remember it fondly.

School must have begun again today. Tomorrow is Laura’s last day covering my classes for me. I’m really glad that it all worked out.

Just a little while longer until I can check in. I’m feeling better now that I have eaten some real food - not a croissant, chocolate, or bag of pretzels, but actual cooked food. It feels cooler back here as well. It’s amazing how simple things can make you feel human again.

It’s quite gray and looks like a storm is brewing outside. They must get a lot of rain here.

I am in no hurry to get up though I am done with my meal. I hate lugging my things around. I hate having so much stuff. And all things considered, I actually packed pretty light. I was able even to get my jacket inside my carry on bag. I’ll need it when we land in New York.

When I’m in airports I often look around at the people and wonder about them. What are their stories? Where are they off to? Do we have anything in common aside from being in the same place at the same time? I like to watch, and listen if I can.

The Ioffe should be in the Drake Passage now - deep in. They probably entered late last night, probably while I was arriving in Buenos Aires or transferring between airports. I am so, so thankful that I did not have these hassles with my flights coming down. I had pretty good luck. I really couldn’t have asked for better. I’m frazzled and irritated today, but I really am grateful for the way my trip worked out in general. I’m quite looking forward to getting my photos and videos sorted when I get home.

4:50 pm Man is this dragging. Maybe I need a change of scenery. I could pay the bill here and go get a coffee from somewhere else. I just feel the need to move.

a few minutes later I’m in a little cafe trying to relax and spend some time. My next stop is downstairs to check in and get this show on the road. I would like to see who else is on my flight, if there is anyone to talk to.

For my next trip I would like to travel somewhere that is English speaking. Perhaps the Canadian Arctic? Or New Zealand? It’s just so tiring to process a foreign language, esp. when you yourself are tired and stressed. It’s amazing how much my Spanish deteriorated when I got sleep deprived. And emotional as well. Plus people speak so fast. Why? What is the rush? On the ship things went at a gentle pace. I really liked that. And I liked being free of the Internet, the TV news, the input always coming in. When you are on vacation you should be focused on the moment, what is right in front of you. Not what is going on thousands of miles away.

later Finally, FINALLY checked in. Shall I count the number of security lines I’ve had to stand in? First, through immigration. Then through gate security - which was a very extensive search lasting several minutes. Then another search in the same hallway. And now, when my gate opens, yet another. I think that is just a tad excessive. It just makes me feel like this is a dangerous place. It’s such a hassle to arrive or leave here. Who would ever come willingly? I feel the same about Buenos Aires. Nothing I’ve seen or experienced would make me want to come back. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve done with South America now. I have seen more than enough of it and it’s a total hassle to be here. If I ever go back to Antarctica, I’ll go some other way! I wouldn’t want to just repeat the itinerary I just did (or an approximation of it) - I would want to see something different.

I feel like I’ve run an ultramarathon. Only now is the end in sight.

waiting to board flight from Buenos Aires –> Bogota

Aerolineas Argentinas is the stupidest and most incompetent airline I think I’ve ever flown. Far worse than even American Airlines in the Caribbean. I don’t understand what their problem is. The left hand not only doesn’t know what the right hand is doing, it doesn’t even know what its fingers are doing.

What has been happening for the past few hours? Comedy central. They started to board us at Gate 13 (an hour and some minutes late to begin with). Then the flight attendant gets on the loudspeaker and says something rapid-fire. She passes by me and says it again. My comprehension totally fails me. I see other people starting to gather their things and head for the door. I do likewise. We get back to Gate 13 and are handed a white plastic strip labeled “Transito” since our tickets have already been ripped. We sit back down. We wait. People ask questions - I hover near the desk to try to overhear. From what I can gather, something set off an alarm on the plane. People start to panic about connecting flights. They’re told, not very nicely, that they can go with other airlines but of course their luggage is still on board the original aircraft. The crew exits, neat black wheelie suitcases in tow. We wait some more. I start digging into my chocolate stash. They announce that we are moving down to Gate 12, where there is a new plane parked. The crowd alights en masse and reassembles in a scraggly line at Gate 12.

The crew arrives and disappears down the ramp and behind the curtains. One lone flight attendant gets stuck on our side of the locked glass doors and can’t figure out how to open them. She tries the set around the corner. Another woman comes back down to assist, and finds it’s locked from the inside as well. They start walkie-talkie-ing and cell-phoning. People in official looking clothes stroll by in varying degrees of purposefulness. Eventually, Thing 1 and Thing 2 from our original gate appear and start their rounds of chatting on the beige phone, chatting on the walkie talkie, wandering off on missions unknown (chatting with various people in the increasingly diffuse crowd) and snapping at any passenger who asks a question that in any way resembles a complaint. I start popping chocolates like, well, candy.

The lady next to me keeps grumbling about how she had to get to the airport at 5 this morning. People stand up, sit down, wandering into the duty free shops. An official looking person in a captain’s uniform comes over and pops a little switch on the top of the door that allows it to open for the poor trapped flight attendants, then ceremoniously locks it once the stray attendant has flown. People mill about. The phone rings, but neither Frick nor Frack are at the desk to answer it.

Suddenly the captain notices a shopping bag at the desk, left unattended. He asks the 30 of us who happen to be standing around if it’s any of ours, then wanders away. A few minutes later, he’s back with a security guard, who asks the same 30 or so of us the exact same question, to which she receives the same answer. She and El Capitain exchange looks. She gingerly picks it up. Nothing explodes, so she takes it to a nearby machine and runs it through. Still no exploding. She leaves it on top of the machine as some kind of trophy to security.

Meanwhile, a blond fembot has joined Mo and Curly at the desk, ostensibly to help check us in. Right about then, a passenger decides he’s had enough, and he, his arty stubble and his ponytail all start haranguing the desk staff re: the injustice of it all. They snap back at him and threaten to remove him from the flight (oh, I’m sorry, was there a flight scheduled? I thought this was the Aimless Mucking About Room - no no, you want 12A next door) but his impassioned speech is clearly resonating with the crowd. Friends! Romans! Passengers! A mob begins to gather, with others firing out one liners or simply talking over the wanna-be Marx.

The blond fembot starts arguing back, and they drown each other out in true Jerry Springer fashion (minus the chairs) for several minutes. A couple of folks come down the ramp and open one of the doors - hey! We’re ready to board! Then another agitator starts in, joined by Karl Marx’s girlfriend who criticizes the lack of a system for calling people to board, and then it turns out that so many people’s seat numbers have changed that they need to call them up about 17 at a time so that the muddled passengers can wave their defunct boarding passes at the desk.

People start pushing and nudging and swarming around the desk. I’m out of chocolate. I’m also realizing I am hanging on by a bare thread and I really don’t feel confident in my ability to understand fast Spanish after, I don’t know, 0 hours of sleep, and someone elbows me in their quest to reach the Airline Counter of Doom and I start crying. They call the folks with the Transito passes and - wonder of wonder, miracle of miracles! - I have one. The kind people who pushed me aside now graciously push their neighbors aside so I can slide through. I’m still crying when I get to my seat. No matter - I’m on board. Slowly, and with less urgency than would have been suggested by the frenzied carrying on and aggreived faces seen out in the gate, people board.

I see the first English of the day - Welcome Aboard. Really, I don’t know that we are. I think this airline would do tons better if there weren’t all these pesky passengers milling around and demanding things. Though we are smarter than we’re given credit for - after watching the captain once, any one of us could have advised all the other airline workers how to unlock that door - because none of them knew.

Why are we listening to a techno remix of Madonna as we’re taking off. I cannot wait to get out of this country and off this misbegotten, Pythonesque (except not funny) sorry excuse for an airline.

(as if to prove it, the flight attendant just said, “Although the fasten seatbelt sign has been turned off…” Um, we’re still ascending, and the seatbelt sign is still ON.)

1. Thou shalt utilize the flat screen TVs to deliver timely and accurate flight information, including gate numbers. Thou shalt NOT broadcast advertisements and other inanities on endless repeat at the expense of providing information to passengers.

2. Thou shalt configure thy facility to accommodate one long line, or several shorter lines. Thou shalt NOT create three or more consecutive long lines that cause passengers undue lateness.

3. Thou shalt not route passengers through a long hallway designated as the “smoking area” en route to their gates.

4. Thou shalt not cause passengers to walk past more than one perfume or duty free shop en route to their gates. Stores shalt not take precedence over departing aircraft unless thou intendeth to convert said aircraft into mall shuttle buses.

5. Thou shalt control the climate uniformly throughout thy airport. There shalt not be distinct climactic zones requiring a change in dress.

6. Thou shalt board flights in an organized, sequential fashion, preferably by seat number or some other mechanism to speed thy process.

7. Thou shalt check the passports and travel documents of passengers approaching the aircraft. Or, thou shalt abolish such documents as unnecessary, if thou shalt not look at them.

8. Thou shalt not stock English language books unless thou dost guarantee that at least 10% of them are not crappy romance novels.

9. Thou shalt post a sign at the gate announcing the next flight leaving from it, and approximate time of departure.

10. Thou shalt not cause any passenger to wonder what drugs thou hast ingested during they airport building process.

3:06 am Buenos Aires local time

I really think that Jorge Newbery must be one of the stupidest airports I’ve ever been in. They made us disembark right on the runways and get on buses. In the pouring rain. Then they load the bags onto one tiny little carousel and you have to elbow people aside just to be able to see the bags. Much less get yours! Anyway, many minutes later, I was able to collect my things and find my transfer person, who drove me for nearly an hour in perfect silence as I got the Buenos Aires seedy drive-by tour. Honestly, it could have been San Jose or Lima or Quito or any other of those cities - they all start to look alike after a while. The glitzy high rise part of the city was glimpsed from above - but not far enough above - during our turbulent landing. The last 15 minutes of the flight really almost made a religious person out of me. I wish there were another way to get to and from Antarctica without having to deal with all of this in the middle.

So, I’m here at my 2nd airport in Buenos Aires, in readiness for Flight #2 to Bogota. I can’t check in for at least 2 more hours. The drink machines only take exact change, which I do not have, and the kiosks that are open only sell little but chocolates, ice cream and cigarettes. (It’s really hot in the airport - so ice cream won out over chocolate.)

The dinner served on board was so indescribably awful that Diana, her seatmate and I all ate bags of pretzels instead. It was like a spam byproduct wrapped in a Twinkie. The lady next to me ate the whole thing. Which is why, I imagine, she spent the next two hours continuously yammering away in a semi-hostile tone with the guy next to her. They talked heatedly for just about the entire flight. I was getting pretty irritated but didn’t know a polite way of saying, “Shut UP, you are the only two yahoos shouting on the entire aircraft!” in Spanish.

Seems to be a torrential downpour outside. I wonder about the flights getting ready to take off. First of all, it’s absolutely bizarre to have a 3:30 am flight to anywhere. Secondly, how is there absolutely nowhere but a vending machine that sells cold drinks? That is ridiculous that you can find a place to buy cigarettes, but not water.

I have to say, I’m getting pretty tired of all this. It’s a huge hassle to have this many flights, each with its own improbably long layover. If my next flight had not been changed, I could have been at a hotel sleeping by now. I just do not think I can sleep in an airport. Besides its utter unsuitability for falling and staying asleep, I’d be too nervous about sleeping through the boarding calls or having my luggage stolen. There is one person who until just moments ago was huddled in the corner with a luggage cart parked in front of her. Asleep on the floor. I think that breaks several travel rules all at once.

The terminal’s cleared out a bit. The next Aerolineas Argentinas flight isn’t until 6:10, so perhaps it will get busier in an hour or so. I don’t mind it being quieter. I can rest (but NOT sleep).

During the hottest part of the day, it topped 100 degrees here. I certainly have gone as far to the opposite climate from Antarctica as I possibly can. Luckily it’s cooled off a bit now, but I am still rather warm.

The rain sounds absolutely torrential outside. I can’t imagine allowing flights to take off in these conditions. I hope this does not throw off the flights for the entire day. Not that I don’t have a monster layover in Bogota as backup. Wow - the board is saying that one recent flight actually did take off. There are two others that were boarding - I want to see if they will take off too.

I wonder when the breakfast places will start to open. I would love a glass of juice or water before I overdose on caffeine again. Considering I just had ice cream at 2:30 am, I’d say it’s likely that I will become completely dysregulated from the next group of flights. The timing really did not work out well. But, I would much rather sit at the airport and wait than have to race through the terminal and worry about missing the flight.

I’m tired of sitting. If I weren’t dragging all my luggage around, I’d get up and walk someplace. I hope they can check my red bag through to New York so that I don’t have to drag it through the Bogota airport as well. Then again it’s two different airlines - though when I checked my reservation on the Avianca website, the earlier flight did pop up. So maybe they cooperate or codeshare or something. The last time I went through Bogota, I was funneled right into international transfers. There was no place to pick up baggage. Maybe that will be the same this time.

4:14 am One thing I neglected to mention earlier was that we had a medical emergency on board. Nothing too major - they got on over the loudspeaker and asked if there was a doctor on board, and luckily there was. For a brief time I feared that we would have to turn back towards Ushuaia, but we pushed on. How likely is it that the medical emergency patient had been aboard the Fram? That would be sort of hilarious.

A nice cool breeze is blowing through the airport. Feels great after being so overheated. Still - I’d prefer a cold drink to prevent dehydration. And what I’d prefer even more is being able to check my suitcase. About 40 more minutes.

6:32 am This whole situation is starting to get to me. I just stood on line for over an hour to check my bag and I’ve paid the airport tax. Now I’m getting breakfast and I’m feeling like one more little thing is going to push me over the edge. The waitress asked me a question in Spanish that I didn’t understand and when I was confused, she gave her friend at the counter a nice sarcastic smile. Contrast that with the airline person who asked me if I wanted to check my bags all the way through to New York. And in a really gentle way that I appreciated. I’ve been up for 24 hours and i first have to get on a flight this morning - I’m not exactly at my sharpest or most patient. I’m trying, I really am. Who knows when I’ll even be able to check in for my next flight. But, at least 2 out of 3 will be over with.

7:45 am I take it back. Jorge Newbery is only the 2nd stupidest airport I’ve ever been in. This place is definitely first. I’m so mystified by what passes for security and service around here and to top everything off, my flight is delayed for an hour and a half. Which, in the scheme of the day, is really not bad in and of itself. What I resent is having to run down all these corridors and wait on so many lines just to be told that the flight is delayed. This airport also has some of the rudest staff at its shops. That is part of the reason I’m parked here at the gate rather than wandering around shopping now. Not that I really want to drag my carry on around anymore. I took some things out, but they were more bulky than heavy. I just didn’t want to risk putting certain things in my packed luggage on the chance that something happened to it.

I will be very glad when this is all done with. To take a real bath and get into a real bed.

I hear an airplane outside the window. Probably ours, since this gate is way out in the boondocks. But I’m sure they have to disembark the passengers and clean before we board.

1. How warm it was. It rarely got below freezing. The wind could certainly make it feel much colder, but the actual ambient temp. was probably warmer than what New York had.

2. The distances between the islands, the peninsula, and so on. It took many hours to get from one island to another that looked very close on a map. We traveled a huge number of nautical miles and barely got anywhere.

3. The beauty of the icebergs. I’m not normally into scenery in quite the way I became during this trip - the ice was so stark and wonderful. It was just about impossible to capture the immensity of the tabular icebergs on film, even with video.

4. How easy - and hard - it was to spot wildlife. You couldn’t go 3 ft. without stumbling over a penguin, but it was more than halfway through the trip before I saw my first whale. As we got into areas with a lot of sea ice, we started to see seals. But it wasn’t until Penguin Island, almost our last stop, before we saw them in any numbers.

5. Being welcome on the bridge at all hours of the day and night. That was a nice surprise. I overheard some really fascinating conversations on the bridge - such as Hayley commiserating with the Fram, or our Russian first mate rolling his eyes as he spoke to the Chilean station on Cape Horn.

6. Having a piano to play. That was fun!

7. Getting passport stamps at Esperanza and Bellingshausen. Very pleasant surprise, especially Bellingshausen.

8. Getting to some of our destinations at all, since the itinerary underwent many revisions over the course of the trip. I don’t think some of these little places are even on Google Earth yet. Rosamel Is. doesn’t even show up on most maps!

9. Hayley falling overboard out of the Zodiac. After realizing she wasn’t hurt, we found it hilarious - and luckily so did she.

10. The sophistication of the menu items attempted. Not that it always succeeded, but that’s OK. The meals were varied, not simple or plain at all. And there was always salad and fruit available. I definitely had not expected that!

almost 11 am - We’ve been off the boat for a few hrs. and I’ve been around Ushuaia - first at the internet cafe, then wandering around a bit aimlessly. I’ve nearly burst into tears several times this morning and I’m really fighting the urge to feel very sorry for myself. Trying not to think about flying too much. Or the trip for that matter. So that leaves… not much of anything. This can’t go on. I have to pull it together. It may be difficult that it’s all ending, but I have a lot waiting for me back home, too. I’ve been anticipating this trip for a long time and I had a lot of anxiety about it. I should be relieved that it’s all gone well. The flying home shouldn’t be too bad. It’s not too much longer than what it took to get down here - just more layovers. Which is actually good, because then I won’t worry about making my connections. I’ve been in all these airports before and they were fine - I don’t feel too worried about that per se. I do think I am a bit untrusting that my flights have all worked out, since one has already changed. That is the benefit of booking through a travel agent. She was able to change my flight and get knowledge of it to me. In a little while I am going to call the Adventure Life number and make sure everything is still smooth.

I have to readjust now to being on my own. For the past two weeks I’ve had a lot of company, a lot of friendly people to talk to. I’ve seen quite a few of them around town, killing time before their flights as well. A small number of people are on my flight later tonight. That’s sort of comforting. I’m feeling a bit better already now that I’m eating and having my first good coffee in many days. I had despaired of the coffee on board towards the beginning, and switched to tea. And I don’t know if I’ll stay here for lunch - maybe I should just order another cafe con crema and stay put. There really isn’t much reason to get moving again. I’m getting picked up in the parking lot at 7 to go to the airport. I have plenty of time before then. I’ll probably go back to the internet cafe for a while and perhaps read all the Bank St emails that I didn’t read the last time around. I could even try to upload some of my photos. But all in good time.

I’m thrilled, overall, with how the trip has gone. The staff on the ship did an absolutely super job, and Antarctica itself was as stark and beautiful as I’d imagined it to be. I have a very good selection of photos and video clips to share. Once I’m back home and settled, I’ll put together my own movie, like the one that James made but with my own footage. I was even thinking I could compose some background music to go with it. I’d probably have to compile all the footage first and then record the music second. I don’t anticipate doing a full-on presentation immediately upon my return. I might post a new photo every day on my computer monitor, then do the presentation when I’m really ready. We still need to finish up the solar system with Cluster B.

I’ve been thinking about the kids a lot while on board the ship. Especially b/c of one passenger in particular - Peter. Peter is maybe 11 or 12 and is clearly, clearly one of “our” kids. I felt pretty sorry for him because he was getting into so much trouble and rubbing everyone the wrong way just about from the word Go. It was interesting to watch how everyone reacted to him. Some people were pretty snippy with him, while others were quite sympathetic and felt he was acting inappropriately because of his attention problems and also the signals he was getting from the parent. I ended up spending a bit of time with him, but the staff really took him on. First Graham, then Sean. One great thing about Peter is that he stayed perpetually upbeat - no matter who spoke crossly to him, and no matter how much trouble he got into. Though of course that is a trait brought on by the attention issues - oblivousness. By the end people seemed to have made their peace about him one way or another. I kept on thinking about all the kids I know and traits that reminded me of one child or another. However, I don’t kow any child who would have had quite that effect in public. I don’t think the parent knew how to handle him in that situation. Apparently he’s been on other cruises before and does better on bigger boats where there is more action. This voyage had too many rules and boundaries, procedures to follow, people and environmental factors to be considerate of. Even some adults had difficulty with it. So what would you expect from a very immature child with attention problems?

I really marveled at some of the younger kids on the voyage. If you do this at 13, 14, even 18, what is left for you as you get older? Where do you go from here? I can’t imagine. I’m satisfied to stay at home for a while after the enormity of this experience. I can’t imagine being a kid and doing this. It’s anti-climactic to go anywhere else.

Eventually, of course, I will travel again. Probably with an Earthwatch project. I think having a project to work on makes a big difference. I came back to Ushuaia with a large number of emails from my Peru crew - wasn’t it cool to email them all back from Ushuaia!

Lucy, Josh and Abby must be back at the airport by now. Their pick up was at 11:00. They had to fly to Buenos Aires and then get a 15-hr flight back to London. I was so fortunate to meet them at the airport and hotel. They really made me feel welcome during the whole trip - less alone. Josh is 18 and about to graduate - he wants to study geography, which as far as I know isn’t even a concentration in the US anymore. Abby is 15 and at a girls’ boarding school. She has significant hearing loss, thoguh gets on pretty well. In fact the last time I saw the family, they were searching for a replacement battery for her hearing aid.

My roommate from the ship, Diana, is on my flight this evening. She is moving on to a kayaking trip in Chile - another few weeks of traveling before heading home to Canada.

I think I am going to finish my second cup of coffee (!) and get moving. Find another internet spot where I can hook up my camera and get some pictures up. It cost $6 US at the last place. That seemed overpriced but who knows - I have not checked around for other prices.

I’m watching people come & go - crossing the street, sitting down to lunch.

Lucy, Abby and Josh just popped in to say goodbye. That was really lovely. I’m getting so sad all over again! I guess they must be the 1:00 pickup, otherwise they are late!

As I was saying, I’m enjoying watching the bustle around here. Many tourists - about 100 of whom are going to be getting on the Ioffe this afternoon. Others will be getting on other vessels, or visiting the National Park.

No matter where I go over the next few days, I doubt I’ll be very much alone. I’m sure there will be others in my situation, or similar. Others will be on my flights. In transit. Staying over at the airport. Wanting to get home. I should keep my eye out for people to be near to. And I do have my phone with me if I need to use it. Last time I was in the Bogota airport, my cell didn’t work - but it might this time, and if not, I’ll have time in the airport to go online or find a phone service. I was asked if I was going to tour the city of Bogota at all - emphatically not. I do not want to leave the airport. I want to have access to information in case of any unexpected problems. I don’t want to risk it.

I can’t believe it’s gotten to this point, where I am really looking at going home. It’s so radical a difference from being on board. My time there was so relaxed and happy, no hassle at all. You left your door wide open or at least unlocked. You needed no money. You got a wake up call via the PA system and an announcement with updates or whenever you needed to be somewhere. I loved going up to the bridge to look at the radar, the charts, the weather report. I loved the hustling in and out of doors when there were icebergs or whales or anything else to be seen. I loved the honor system of listing your name for sodas or items from the minibar. I didn’t love the dark presentation room but did like the presentations within. I also loved the hours of lying in bed and listening to my audiobooks or napping the time away while in between excursions.

I did NOT miss TV or the internet whatsoever. Not even a little bit. This represented a total break from absolutely everything, and it was wonderful. Now that I’m back to “civilization” (very loosely defined) I suppose I’ll have to catch up.

And I have to say - I will not miss having to don so many layers just to go outdoors. Especially the waterproofing layers. Though in another month and a half I’ll be skiing - so clothing-wise I am quite prepared. I have a feeling I’ll be able to wear just a compression shirt and my new jacket - those shirts kept me very warm. The Polartec was actually more comfortable than insulating - but fine. I’m actually wearing it now.

later - about 5:30 pm  Having a pretty pleasant afternoon window shopping with Diana. As it gets closer to 7:00 I’m feeling more and more fluttery. I’ve slowly made the transition to being back in Ushuaia, again just in time to have everything mixed up again. I’m nervous about the flight that was changed because when I went to Avianca’s website to look at the flights again, my reservation pulled right up, but with the old flight time listed. In a way it doesn’t make a difference - what it affects is how much time I’ll spend waiting at the various airports. I really can’t worry about it. As long as I’m ON the flight, it will work. I was finally able to get into my voicemail, but it was a message from my parents saying Happy New Year, not Adventure Life or the travel agent. Still - maybe I should call Joyce just to make sure. I hope that if anything were to happen with the flights, I would have received a voicemail or email by now. Of course, something could happen at any time. I really do not want to get stuck anywhere. I really want to get home. I wish I could be a more easygoing person about these things and keep it all in good perspective. But it’s hard. I’m anxious for all to go well. I had the same anxieties coming down here. It’s very easy to let the imagination run wild.

Well, everything happens in its due time. No matter how interminable the wait might feel, the hour always arrives. Things go as planned, or not. What gets me is the unpredictability of it. All I can do is be prepared and show up. That’s it. I can’t control the airlines. I do feel fortunate in regard to everything else about this trip - my biggest fear was missing the boat, and of course that was not the case. I didn’t allow myself to consider the possibility of the boat going down or having a significant issue - and of course that could easily happen, as evidenced by the Fram’s misfortunes. What a different story THAT would have been. I feel for the people whose vacation was ruined - of course not quite as much for the people on the Explorer, which actually did warrant an evacuation into lifeboats. That is an adventure, yes, but not the adventure you’d want. Knowing how cold it could feel in the Zodiacs - and wet - I can really sympathize. How scary that must have been. Well - that is why there is travel insurance.

Honestly, everything in life involves risk. You can’t avoid it. It’s the terror of not knowing - of unpredictability.

I know I have long days and nights ahead. I’m probably dreading that more than anything else. I need to try to put on the most positive spin I can. It’s just time - it can be used well, even if I’m not where I would prefer to be. I can still make the best use of it.

One thing I haven’t thought about until just now - the fact that it’s a new year. We celebrated on board, but I was too preoccupied with my own fragility to really take notice. I really have not thought much about it. My real “new year” is in June, anyway (or September, I guess). This doesn’t feel like a new year at all, particularly since I’ve been away and I’m not yet back home.

It’s about 6 pm. We’re being picked up in an hour. Time has passed during this day in Ushuaia and it hasn’t felt too bad. (Maybe I’m jittery because I’ve been drinking so much caffeine all day. I think it’s time to lay off!) Perhaps the Ioffe has boarded its new passengers, or is getting ready to board them tomorrow.

later- We’ve boarded from Gate 4 and are just waiting to finish boarding and take off, hopefully close to on time. I was able to get my boarding pass for the next flight as well, which eliminates some anxiety, though if we take off anywhere close to our scheduled departure time, it will definitely not be an issue. It was so hot inside the airport that I had to change into my lighter pair of pants and stuff my sweatshirt and jacket into my carry on. It’s supposed to be almost 100 degrees in Buenos Aires but hopefully I’ll be out of there well before the hottest part of the day.

Seems like we’ve just about done with boarding. I’ll call my parents when I’ve gotten into the car to go to Ezeiza and again when I actually get there.

Oddly enough, there was another flight also boarding to fly to Buenos Aires at the gate right next door. We saw Jacques and one of the American families. Apparently their flight “didn’t exist” and they were on standby for several flights prior to the one they actually got on. Meanwhile, they were only finishing boarding when our flight was called. I think we may be the last flight for the evening.

There are a few other people from the Ioffe on this flight. Diana is across the aisle from me in the window seat. I’m in the aisle. I think I am going to miss traveling with people I know. It quells a lot of the anxiety to be with people who can also be vigilant, watch your bags, comment on what’s happening, plan in case something happens. It’s totally fine to go on your own, but you do it all yourself. And if some problem does occur, you are on your own to fix it. I think after this, I am going to take a break from traveling alone.

The intercom makes this horrible high pitched whine that is way louder than the person’s voice who is speaking. It’s down to a drone now - hope I can tune it out.

As we were being driven to the airport, we saw the Ioffe pulling back out. That was sort of a neat way to mentally say goodbye. They are heading off on a 10 day cruise, rather than 13 days like us. For a cruise like this, where you lose 4 whole days to the Drake Passage, I’d say get the most out of it and stay as long as is feasible. I thought my 13 days was, for me, the right amount. I would have gotten tired had we gone on any longer. (I also chose this particular cruise for the way it fit into my schedule.)

We are just about ready to pull out. I think we are waiting for another plane to clear the runway. (The drone still has not gone away!)

later - Safely, mercifully in the air. The sun is shining brightly still - in the Northern Hemisphere it would have been fully dark hours ago. I’m feeling very hungry, just realizing I never had any dinner - just a bottle of water and a bag of pretzels at the airport. I wonder if they are going to serve anything. This is only a 3 hour flight. On coming down I flew business class, so I have no idea what was done in coach. Plus, that was an early afternoon flight - while this one is landing after midnight.

We seem to be flying through the beginnings of a sunset. I like this. It’s a gentle transition away from the South. I haven’t seen it actually BE nighttime since - probably since the night before I left. I flew overnight b/w Colombia and Buenos Aires - I guess that was my last nighttime. Since then I have seen some sunsets and twilights, but no actual nights. That’s pretty neat. I’m so glad to have missed the shortest days of the year.

They are serving a meal! Very good. I was about to break into another bag of pretzels.

What if I go north next summer? Finish off a polar year? If I went, it would NOT be on a ship. I have no need to get to the Pole. Maybe just the Arctic Circle.

What am I saying? I can’t travel again for a while. I need to replenish my bank account!

early afternoon - I’ve spent most of the day feeling pretty ill, but now I have some pretzels in my stomach and I’m sitting outside on Deck 4 watching the waves churn and sparkle in the sunlight, and I’m feeling much better. We are supposed to round Cape Horn later this afternoon. I feel like I’ve been in stasis over the past few days, waiting to get back, mostly lying around in bed. It really is very beautiful out here. Nothing but ocean, sky, and seabirds.

I’m sad to leave. I started crying earlier. It’s going to be a long few days getting home.

about 7 pm - We got within 5 nautical miles of Cape Horn and have now turned towards entering the Beagle Channel. Dinner is at 7:45 and then I have to put my suitcases out in the hallway. They are very well organized as far as putting us onto buses and organizing our journey back to the airport.

I’m feeling much better. I replaced my patch earlier but do not think it made all that much difference. The best remedies were the pretzels, ginger ale, and standing out in the fresh air. The next best remedy was to lie on my back with the iPod on. That iPod was a really good investment on this trip, because oftentimes I did not want to risk seasickness by reading.

So we are meant to pull back into Ushuaia at 7:00 am tomorrow. I am going to check my email to ensure that my flights haven’t been further changed since the last time I was in Ushuaia, and then happily souvenir shop whiel my bags are being looked after by the ship’s company, Peregrine. I’m really thrilled about that because otherwise I would have had to stay at the airport all day.

This afternoon we were shown a slideshow recapping our voyage and featuring photos from the “best of” CD. I actually have very similar photos to many of them. There are some, particularly of flying birds, that you would have needed a special lens to get. No matter. I’m very happy with how my camera worked.

I’m very pleased with the trip overall. Living on the ship wasn’t bad except for the past few days, and that seems to be all over now. I liked the places we went and appreciated the Plans B and C that were often deployed when Plan A had to be scuttled due to rough weather or sea ice.

This afternoon we settled our bills and got our passports back. My bill was just over $300 between the equipment rental, the ship DVD, the soft drinks, email, and the single biggest expense - tipping the staff. I did $10 per day - making it $130 altogether. I had basically planned for that all along anyway.

There are two new stamps in my passport - one from Esperanza and the other from Bellingshausen.

The Final Journey - updated

Fri, Dec 21 - Boarded - entered the Drake Passage
Sat, Dec 22 - Drake Passage
Sun, Dec 23 - Drake Passage, first icebergs
Mon, Dec 24 - Deception Island, Half Moon Island
Tu, Dec 25 - Joinville Island (Madder Cliffs), Rosamel Island
Wed, Dec 26 - Devil Island, Erebus & Terror Gulf
Thurs, Dec 27 - Brown Bluff, Active Sound (Iceberg tour)
Fri, Dec 28 - Esperanza Base, Hope Bay, more icebergs
Sat, Dec 29 - King George Island (Bellingshausen Station), Penguin Island
Sun, Dec 30 - Elephant Island, Gibbs Island
Mon, Dec 31 - Drake Passage
Tu, Jan 1 - Drake Passage - Cape Horn - Beagle Channel
Wed, Jan 2 - Ushuaia - Disembark

almost midnight - I don’t feel tired at all - perhaps all that lying around in bed over the past few days has been to blame. Now the water is calm and it’s amazing how much better I feel. I don’t think the seasickness patch worked particularly well. On the other hand, a lot of it was me not eating enough and not getting fresh air.

Captured an absolutely lovely sunset and then it began to pour rain. So here I am, all cozy and shower-clean and trying not to anticipate what tomorrow will bring.

Flying will probably end up having been the hardest part, especially with layovers and anxiety about flights changing or being cancelled. Once I’m out of Ushuaia, I’ll be very eager to be at home. But there is a marathon of airlines to run through first. I do have to say that getting down here was a lot smoother and less of a hassle than I thought it might be. So I’m definitely less nervous now. Plus I know I have long layovers, so I won’t have to run to make a connection.

And I get to call home tomorrow! That will be good.

The Fram saga continues. We have been asked to escort them back to Ushuaia, to be standins for the lifeboat that was crushed in the accident. So they are tagging along with us to Elephant Island. We are supposed to try to land there this morning - our last stop before the Drake Passage back to South America. Right now it’s very foggy and windy - not a great hope of landing under those circumstances. There is also supposed to be an enormous tabular iceberg that is 30 miles long. At the very least, we’ll try to cruise around it.

later still cruising. I can see an island outside my window - perhaps Elephant Island. I would honestly be fine if we just drove around it and didn’t leave the boat anymore. I’m tired of suiting up in all those layers - I like being able to lounge around in my regular clothes. I may feel differently when we are getting bounced around in the Drake Passage, but for now I’m totally content to just stay in my room and read a book or lie down listening to the iPod. I finished Pride & Prejudice and started on Northanger Abbey, but I really didn’t like it, so I switched over to the History of Rome, which I like but I find I’ve been falling asleep and missing information here and there.

after lunch I tried to burn a DVD with the stuff on the first 4GB card, with no luck. The computer in the presentation room seems quite feeble. Another passenger offered me the use of his computer and i think I am going to take him up on it. I just don’t trust the “multimedia center”.

I was up on the bridge just now and heard several pieces of news. One - the Fram has left us and is returning to Ushuaia on its own. Apparently there is another medical emergency. It’s terrible for all those people on board. Coach said that when the staff went over there for a visit, he thought the average age of the passengers was about 75. These big, fancy ships attract travelers who are fragile and who may not have any business being down in these conditions.

The other news was the prognosis for the Drake Passage - similar to conditions today but in higher wind. I think I have let the Drake Passage take on exaggerated status in my imagination.

Right now we are headed to a “secret” spot - Gibbs Island - where we might see macaroni penguins. But only if the weather is right for us to land. (or even zodiac cruise) We are following the coordinates that the Fram gave us.

If it turns out that Penguin Island was our last landing, I’d be fine with that. That was a very pleasant excursion and we got to see seals up close, which up to this point I hadn’t really gotten to do. I’m starting to anticipate coming home, and with that, all of the tasks/chores I have to do.

• scheduling field trips
• grading and commenting for Bank St
• preparing for my new semester - updating the syllabus
• putting together Antarctica presentations

It still feels far away, but not so far that I can push it wholly from my mind.

11:04 pm Apparently Argentina has switched to daylight savings time - and now, so have we.

We did our excursion to Gibbs Island and saw some pretty dramatic scenery. Chinstrap penguins and other birds nesting on high cliffs. Supposedly there were macaroni penguins too, but we didn’t see any. We did see two skuas tearing at a dead penguin and a gigantic wave washing some penguins into the water. Hopefully they were OK. Another boat saw a leopard seal with a penguin in its mouth, but I didn’t see that. Yikes. This is how the food chain works, but it’s still a little sad.

We did see a number of seals of various types resting on the beach - elephant and Weddell. I think Weddell seals have a very Teddy Roosevelt look about them. I have some very good closeups from yesterday at Penguin Island.

Eventually it began to rain pretty hard and we packed it in. In a way it was nice that the last excursion was a bit rough in the conditions - giving us a taste of what, perhaps, Antarctica is more typically like.

After dinner the ship cruised around Elephant Island, where survivors of the Endurance lived for four months of winter before being rescued. It was very dramatic scenery - mountains, sunlight, fog, and tabular icebergs generating their own chilly clouds. We think they may be the remnants of that supermassive tabular iceberg that we were searching for this morning, without success.

4:50 pm  Quite a lot to catch up on. Last night we had a very enjoyable “two truths and a lie” competition between Hayley, Jacques and Ray - lots of insults flying around, and the whole thing ended with Hayley informing the packed house of how she came to fall overboard. I went to bed shortly after that. There were a number of announcements over the loudspeaker, but I ignored them. As it turns out there was some high drama up on the bridge last night.

We were heading through the Bransfield Strait but turned back upon receiving a distress signal from the Fram, a posh Norwegian cruise ship with 500 passengers, chandeliers in the dining room, expresso machines, and other luxuries to be sure. They had been pulling up anchor from Brown Bluff (we were there recently) and suffered a double engine failure. The wind drove them toward the cliffs, which they narrowly missed, and they then sideswiped the glacier, breaking a window and crushing one of their lifeboats. Fortunately, they were able to get both engines up and running shortly thereafter, so we were able to un-divert ourselves. Otherwise we might have had to take on all those passengers! We had already started calculating how much food we had and where to move the zodiacs to make more room on the deck.

This morning we actually saw the Fram because in addition to their engine troubles, they also had some sort of medical emergency and they needed to use the Chilean airstrip on King George Island to med-evac the person out. We ourselves visited the Bellingshausen Station, the Chilean station, and got a look over the hills at the Chinese station. I decided to join the hike to the Chinese base but very stupidly wore too many layers, and I ended up absolutely roasting. King George Island has eight different stations on it. Crowded!

I came back sapped of energy and feeling rather dehydrated. I didn’t think I would even want to go on the afternoon outing. I was relieved to learn it would be later in the afternoon. I got into bed and a while later was roused by an announcement that there were humpback whales nearby! We watched them for a while, diverting our course to follow them. I was not able to get any good video or photos this time. Then we headed around King George Island intending to land at Turret Point. The water around King George Island felt deceptively calm - there were swells of water that crashed onto the beach as waves, making it difficult to land there. Instead we landed on the island next door, Penguin Island.

This turned out to be a great excursion. I was most excited about the Weddell and elephant seals, all sprawled on the beach, some in great heaps for increased warmth. They are undergoing a “catastrophic molt” meaning that they completely shed their skin in one go. Some of them made funny burping and gargling sounds, which I hope I got on video. There were also gigantic petrels nesting on the rocks, and of course the ubiquitous penguins. We didn’t get out on the zodiacs until at least 5:30 and I didn’t get back to the ship until around 8.

Six months ago, I experienced the longest day of the year in the Southern Hemisphere. Six months later, here it is in the Northern. Here’s to sunlight!

8:00 am  Just returned to the room after breakfast. We are going to Esperanza this morning to have a tour of the station. It is an Argentine base where whole families live, including children. I can’t imagine bringing my kids to live here, or teaching at a school here. I could see getting very tired of this environment fairly quickly. As it is, I personally have almost had my fill. I think this trip was just the right length of time fo rme. I couldn’t have handled too much longer.

Of course, part of the problem may be that we’ve been going around in circles. We’ve been in Antarctic Sound for a number of days. Ice is preventing us from going further south. But we couldn’t go north either, because we were expected here this morning (or originally this afternoon). So we couldn’t really go anywhere else because of this appointment. I’m looking forward to it. Hopefully it will be a nice change of pace.

upon return  That visit was very enjoyable. We landed on the dock to be welcomed by the head of the base and took a walking tour around the buildings, ending up in their “community hall” where we were served churros, strong coffee, and other drinks. They set up a little souvenir stand selling stickers, patches, stamps for mailing, sweatshirts, etc. and they had a post office box set up for those who wanted to mail postcards home. I didn’t bother - I will be home way faster than the postcards can get there. I didn’t buy nearly as much as I thought I might. I guess I still have in my mind that I will have a day in Ushuaia upon completion of the cruise to do shopping.

Esperanza Base is an Argentine political outpost staffed with a mix of Army, scientist, and civilian family units. There are currently 73 people living there, completing their year at the base, and a new group is arriving on January 11th. There is a massive Adelie penguin colony on the peninsula - 300,000 adults (150,000 breeding pairs) plus chicks.

The site is rather cute with little orange and yellow boxes for buildings - from a distance it looks like it was constructed from pieces of a children’s train set. They have a small hospital, a radio station, a Catholic chapel, a sewage treatment facility, and buildings for the transportation and equipment. As well, there is a small open air museum featuring defunct equipment left behind by the British Antarctic Survey.

They even have a stone reconstruction of the hut stayed in by the Nordensjold expedition that was stranded here over a winter. The three men erected the stone structure, placed their tents inside, and killed seals to line the floor of the dwelling for increased warmth. They survived by hunting seals and penguins. The idea of ever eating a penguin is absolutely disgusting!

Being at the base was fun. They invited us to speak on their radio program and seemed happy to show us around. There were some children gathered in the community hall selling handmade dolls and pencil drawings. I would imagine it is a challenge for a kid to find enough to do there. They did have soccer goalposts set up - but it looks like penguins regularly travel through the area. I wonder how the penguins and humans coexist there. If it is the largest colony of Adelies in the world, even if it weren’t, I would hope that the residents there took special care.

At the base they must abide by the terms of the Antarctic Treaty. That means they cannot grow exotic species or hunt for their food by fishing. All of their provisions are sent down during the summer in five installments. During the winter, nothing comes through. They only get 3 hrs of daylight during winter (and, I’d imagine, only 3 hrs of nighttime during summer). When asked what food he missed, our guide said “green” - “Argentina has the best meat in the world, but I’ve had enough of it!” The Ioffe brought some boxes of fresh fruit along to give them a bit of a break.

While in the community hall I noticed that Graham, one of the guides, had a huge pile with everyone’s passport and he was giving them all a special stamp. Kind of like the stamp from the Galapagos Islands, perhaps. I liked that. But I just overheard our neighbors complaining about it. I guess they might need the blank space for something else? I’m not sure. They seem sort of sour people anyway.

about 12:30 pm We are pulling up anchor from Esperanza Base. I can see the base out of our window. I’ve taken a number of layers off and have been relaxing in the room. I think the cheap sweatshirt from Target may actually be warmer than the Polartec! It’s warm outside, as well. The whole visit I had my blue jacket stuffed in my backpack and the black head liner as my hat. (Someone jokingly termed it an “Antarctic burqa”!)

about 6 pm After lunch we had a bit of time to spare, so I washed some more clothes in the sink. I now have more than enough clean clothes for the rest of the trip and I shortly hope to have enough dry clean clothes as well.

It was announced that we would be doing a zodiac cruise around Hope Bay, the area around Esperanza Base, and again I was down to the mud room to get my boots and lifejacket on before almost anyone. I enjoy getting the equipment on when it’s emptier, and i was again among the first on line. We watched the zodiacs being lowered into the water via the crane and then circling around in the bay, perhaps testing to see what it was like in the waves. James, the videographer, was steering a zodiac around with Hayley sitting in the back. When he aimed towards the gangway stairs, the boat struck the side in an odd way, and Hayley fell off the back into the water! It took James a second to realize what had happened and he turned off the engine and helped her climb back into the boat, getting significantly wet himself. Graham drove over in his zodiac to make sure all was well. When Hayley climbed back in, she made sure she was the one to drive back to the gangway. Then she had the kayak guide take over James’ boat and went inside to change out of her wet clothes.

The excursion toured the edge of the giant penguin colony on the peninsula. We couldn’t get too close, but we encountered a large number of penguins in the water, as well as a predator - a leopard seal. The wave action was very rough and we were all frequently splashed, so I put away my digital camera and made do with the little blue waterproof. (I went through 39 exposures in about an hour!)

The wind was quite high, churning up waves. So we proceeded to a more sheltered area where a glacier was settled, and we were able to see active erosion - dripping water and rockslides, combined with tide action on the bottom. We continued along the glacial edge and admired the ice formations. Then we observed dramatic dark clouds moving in to the area in front of us at a rapid pace. The wind had picked up to 38 knots, and all zodiacs were called in. It was a relief to get back and out of the salt spray.

We spent the next hour or so cruising among some massive and beautiful icebergs. They were able to steer the ship among them so that we could get remarkably close. It was hysterical watching everyone race back & forth across the bridge trying for that National Geographic shot. I took photo after photo and video after video!

about 7:15 am - You need sunglasses just to look out the window here. We’re weaving among huge icebergs, heading for a landing on the Antarctic continent at Brown Bluff. I guess we have given up the plan to sail through the Active Strait. I feel that whatever we end up doing will be great, so it doesn’t signify to me where our exact destination is. We’re supposed to reach Brown Bluff at 11:00.

Another bright, sunny day. It’s sort of Antarctic Lite out here. I don’t think we have been at all exposed to the typical conditions - which is fine with me, of course.

During dinner last night one of the staff (Jacques, the bird guy) told us that because we are having a late spring down here, it has disrupted the breeding cycle of those Adelie penguins we saw on Devil Island. There were eggs, newly hatched chicks, and chicks up to a week or two old. Normally the colony would be synchronized and everyone’s chicks would be the same age. That way when the chicks are old enough, they form creches - basically, penguin day care - and the adults can go out hunting for food. The point of being in a colony is to have safety in numbers.

after breakfast  This morning’s landing is going to be at Brown Bluff - a landing on the continent itself. It’s at 9:00 (first gangway, anyway). I’m not going right at the beginning because I’m not planning on hiking. I had thought about it, but then read in my guidebooks that there are frequent rockslides and that there is a lot of erosion. So I think we’ll skip that one.

Anytime I’m in this room, I feel like falling asleep. I feel like I’ve been very lazy on this trip. I come in from the excursions feeling ravenous, but I haven’t done anything to become so hungry. And then right after that my eyelids start drooping, and I feel I must lie down for a few minutes - which turns into falling quite asleep.

after lunch  Our tour of Esperanza Base has been rescheduled for tomorrow morning. I’m looking forward to it and hoping, though not expecting, there to be souvenirs or some way of commemorating our visit. This afternoon we are cruising toward the entrance of Active Sound and then doing a zodiac cruise among the icebergs.

Brown Bluff is an amazing place. It’s a volcanic area where the other half of the volcano has been eroded away by ice, meaning we were standing in the middle of the extinct volcano. You could see the layers of ash and the pumice stones with holes, which indicates where lava had been flowing. There were groups of Gentoo penguins around big rocks, with each individual sitting on a pile. There was also a big colony of Adelie penguins with chicks - many a bit older and fluffier than the ones I saw yesterday. Some of the nests had two chicks. I don’t think they’re quite as cute as emperor penguin chicks, but I enjoyed seeing them. There were also cracked eggs on the ground and some skeletons - so there is death as well as life.

What actually amazed me most was the moss growth. The peninsular ground was very green. I tried to avoid stepping on it, but it was almost impossible, especially if you tried to keep 15 ft distant from all wildlife. That was nearly impossible too since there were so many individual penguins running around. I love watching groups of them clump together by the water and then, squawking up a storm and fluttering their wings, all plunging in at once.

I think the gentoos have a very Chewbacca-like sound.

about 6:30 pm - Our plans for the rest of the day became completely muddled due to the first real weather of the trip - very high winds. We sailed out to the opening of Active Sound in wind 30-50 knots or even above, way too high to go out in the zodiacs. And we could not at all proceed through the sound due to extensive ice cover. So we cruised around in the ship - more accurately we have been driving in circles. We can’t go anywhere now because we are due to visit Esperanza Station tomorrow. So we don’t have sufficient time to drive anywhere else and then return. I was up on the bridge for a while, and also out on the deck in the wind itself, then came back up to the bridge, then back up to the room to rest. I feel as lazy as a seal. Perhaps it’s the cold causing me to want to hibernate.

I figure we must have three more days of active cruising, and then the last two or so days of sailing back through the Drake Passage. Part of me is already anxious to get back. I feel like I’ve had the essence of the experience - have seen everything I wanted, except perhaps for a research station. I don’t need too much more. I’m satisfied, and eager to get home so I can talk about it!

after dinner - Feeling better, health wise. I think all that rest this afternoon must have helped. It rather reminds me of my days in the rainforest, when we would go out first thing in the morning and then rest after lunch during the hottest part of the day. I remember always feeling the most lonely and lost right before dinner, when everyone would gather and I would have an excuse to be among people again. I can be chatty and social when the opportunity presents itself.

around 9:30 pm (I think) The sun is sinking lower and lower in the sky and spreading a warm, distant orange glow over the swirling water and the icebergs. It’s been sunrise so early in the morning, and sunset so late in the evening, that I haven’t really had the chance to see it. It’s lovely.

I’ve just washed a few items in our sink and I’m waiting until they dry off a bit so I can hang them outside the bathroom. It was valuable to see just how much water the Polartec fleece can hold. Remind me to never, ever get wet while wearing it.

They screened an installment of “Life in the Freezer” down in the presentation room and I went just to have something to do. It was uncanny watching scenes that I had witnessed live just this morning, or at most a few days ago. But it also reminded me how little of Antarctica I’ve actually seen. Only glimpses - bits and pieces. Not that that isn’t enough - it’s just valuable to realize the limits of your own experience. Some of our guides have been coming down here for years and have done much crazier things that just drive zodiacs around. My life is a lot tamer. I have made different choices.

What amazes me is how much life there is, in such inhospitable places. Wherever it can gain any foothold, it pushes and grows as far as it can. And yet it can all be taken away so easily. Life needs more life to sustain itself. Most things eat one another, benefitting from misfortune and death. And to think what a narrow window the Earth provides - how much more extreme and inhospitable it could be, and indeed has been in the past, and will be again in the future. How privileged we are, how lucky and how fleeting it all is. It all seems so desperately important, for that short time that one is around to be conscious of it. Yet ultimately what becomes of it? Is there any value in experiencing and living beyond one’s own personal memories and those memories of the others whom one touches? It seems almost ridiculous that such living could be going on without any goal or point to it. But it doesn’t really need to have a goal, I guess. It could just be for its own sake, for however many moments it lasts. It just makes me want to appreciate things more. It’s quite easy to grow complacent and to only focus on what you haven’t got. And it’s easy to find ways to suffer and there are many legitimate sources of frustration and pain.

Coming to a place like this throws it all into stark relief. Life here teeters on the brink and is absolutely at the mercy of environmental conditions. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be a worker who lives down here, especially over a winter. I think I wouldn’t be able to do it. I would become depressed. I would probably spend all day in bed. I feel like I’m practically doing that now! There is a lot of leisure time on board, which I actually like. You have time to process the experience that way. I don’t like the type of travel where you are constantly packing your suitcase to go someplace else. You are always on the go, always catching up to yourself. Here I feel I have been given the gift of time.

Early morning - around 6:45

I have that blasted “Twelve Days of Christmas” stuck in my head. I suppose it could be worse - it isn’t Britney Spears, at least.

I’m awake and dressed and nursing my first cup of coffee before the wakeup call over the loudspeaker even came on (I’m expecting it any minute). These wakeup calls in the morning are pretty funny - like “reveille” at Camp Starlight. Hayley wished everyone a Merry Christmas yesterday, pointing out that we were in fact in the Weddell Sea, thus living up to the tour’s name. We are going to spend New Year’s in the Drake Passage - not sure if that will be quite as festive!

The calm, easy weather has had some paradoxical effects. On one hand, it permits the ice to collect and clump around spots where we’d like to land, making them inaccessible. On the other hand, it allows us to go out in the small boats and have a lovely cruise, without it being too windy or rocking the boat much. Ideally it would be nice to land more often, since you can get up closer to wildlife and see more of the geology, but not at the expense of having a storm or becoming seasick.

It’s just 7 o’clock. Hayley sounded exhausted over the loudspeaker. She said that they were navigating through ice all last night and that we won’t be able to go as far south, to Seymour Island, as was originally intended. Instead we are going to try for Devil Island and Snow Hill Island. I don’t mind that the itinerary keeps changing. Better safe than sinking. I enjoy going anywhere and seeing anything.

Staff members

• Hayley - expedition leader - from New Zealand
• Don - assistant expedition leader - from Canada - is the one who did a lot of the safety briefings
• Graham - the photographer - drives zodiacs and gives presentations
• Maggie - hotel manager - is the one who organizes ship events and coordinates food
• Coach (Ray) - the Australian
• Scotty - gives a lot of historical talks
• Sean - pronounces his name “Shan”
• Mo - I was in her boat yesterday - from Alaska
• Jacques - “the bird man” - so enthusiastic about the wildlife that sometimes the others tease him about it
• Leo - the cook
• Russian captain - very friendly - has nicknamed me “New York”. Mostly up on the bridge, smokes pipes.

Then there’s someone in charge of the sea kayakers, a guy manning the bar, lots of staff who clean the rooms, wash linens and so on.

At the end of today will be the halfway point of our trip. This is as far south as we’re going to get. It’s a lot like visiting Miami and the Caribbean and then saying you’ve “been to North America”. Antarctica is vast. We went by a craggy volcanic island yesterday afternoon that barely would show up on a map, but it towered over us impressively. Maybe it’s because so many of the staff are New Zealanders and Australians, but the landscapes I’ve seen seem very Lord of the Rings. Stark and beautiful and forbidding.

upon return - Devil Island is beautiful. It’s an Adelie breeding colony and there were chicks! My first penguin chicks. I climbed up to a good vantage point where I could watch a little group the whole time. I saw one penguin feed its chick and then do an exchange with the returning mate. There were two more chick-adult pairs on the same little rocks.

notes written while on Devil Island — There are so many Adelie penguins toddling around and squawking at each other - flapping their wings, eyeing us with a turn of the neck. There’s a gentle breeze and my thermometer reads fifty degrees. No wonder there are a lot of little iceberg pieces. It’s starting to thaw.

I’m watching one pair that seems to be engaged in a mating ritual. They touch beaks and slowly circle around to the back, a subtle and graceful dance.

A brown sharp-beaked skua just landed among the penguins, with much squawking and flapping of wings.

I’ve climbed to a slightly higher vantage point to take a look at the penguins nursing chicks. There are 3 in this little rocky promontory that I’ve been particularly watching.

The wind has picked up a bit so the hat went back on, as well as the thicker gloves. When the sun is out, however, it’s nice and warm. Some folks have already gone back to the ship - probably from overdoing the mulled wine last night!

This is such a neat place. I’m glad we were able to weave in and out of the icebergs to get here.

after lunch We are setting course for a place called Vortex Island, where we will do a zodiac cruise - not a landing. We don’t have a “gangway time” yet, so we’re just hanging around waiting for the announcement. I am rather sleepy and might do a short nap. But first I have to scroll through my photo and video and weed out the less impressive clips. I’ve hit the end of my 4 gigabyte memory card. Four gigabytes! I have one more card, of the same size, to work with. Clearly I am plunging through memory at a breakneck speed. But when I take photographs my motto is Shoot first, ask questions later.

KILLER WHALE sighting - up to 15 of them! Tamarin Peninsula, Eagle Island area.

later We did an awesome zodiac cruise around Erebus & Terror Gulf. It was sunny and warm, and the water was extremely calm. We saw the same pod of killer whales that was spotted earlier, and one passed right alongside our boat. We also saw three different species of seal - Weddell, crabeater and leopard. Penguins and ice, too, of course. Always!

Today’s two excursions were absolutely stellar. Now I’m hungry and wondering when dinner is going to be!

Jacques kept calling over the loudspeaker exuberantly, in raptures about the Wilson’s storm petrel. Coach was driving my boat, and with typical Australian deadpan said, “My heart is quivering!” and “I almost wet myself!” He didn’t drive like a maniac today, probably because there were so many different things to see and there were so many other boats in close proximity.

So we never went off to Vortex Island, just looped around Erebus & Terror Gulf. I think that decision was made because of the killer whales here, and it was a good one. I even got some good photos in. Very satisfying.

about 9:30 pm Just attended a hysterically funny session of “the most profound questions asked on these trips” including

• Is that the same moon we have in Texas?
• When you did your circumnavigation, did you go all the way around?
• Do the mountains float on the water, or are they anchored to the bottom?
• How far is the ocean above sea level?
• Does the crew sleep on board the ship?
• How long is Happy Hour?
• Is the other side of the island surrounded by water too?

It is absolutely bright and sunny out as though it were the middle of the afternoon. We’re basically parked in the Erebus &Terror Gulf and we won’t pull out until it’s time to travel to our next destination, which at dinner was said to be Active Strait leading to one end of Joinville Island where we can land. We will not be heading any further south on this trip. In a day or so we’ll be landing on the continent itself.

If I ever come back to Antarctica, I would probably want to go way further south. I feel like - pardon the expression - I’m only seeing the tip of the iceberg. And yet we’ve seen quite a bit despite being in such a small area. Around the coasts is where most living things can survive, anyway. The only reason to go to the interior of the continent would be to visit a specific place, such as a research station or the South Pole.

Recently returned from the morning’s zodiac excursion and I’m warming up, as well as feeling increasingly sleepy.

Highlights - Joinville Is. - Madder Cliffs

• a HUGE colony of Adelie penguins - at least 100,000 breeding pairs
• watching penguins jumping out of the water - as though shot out of a gun
• being able to briefly land on sea ice
• monstrous-sized blue icebergs

The last half hour got cold & windy - but before that it felt great. It didn’t help that I switched boats after the ice landing and ended up with a driver who loves to gun the engine. Why get cold and wet on purpose? That was irritating.

But now I’m inside, warming up, and all’s well.

later  We navigated toward Paulet Island but when we were within 12 miles of it, it became clear that it was blockaded by sea ice and icebergs. So we steered away and we’re now looking for another place to land. The expedition leader, Hayley, got on the radio with a nearby ship and found out that they were able to land at Devil Island. She hasn’t announced it over the loudspeaker because I think she doesn’t want to promise anything. We could get there and find that it’s inaccessible because of ice, as well. Right now we’re sailing among large, beautiful icebergs, and that will probably continue for a while.

I’ve been sleepy since we got back from the zodiac cruise this morning. Part of it is probably the seasickness patch. Part of it is not sleeping enough at night, and taking too many naps during the day. It’s just like my sleep cycle during vacations at home. Except this time, it’s complicated due to the ship’s schedule. I’d really rather be alert when something important is going on. Otherwise, I don’t care when I sleep.

Earlier when I was on the bridge, Hayley called Esperanza Base to confirm that we are visiting on the 28th. She had to have one of the passengers translate between Spanish and English, and it was fairly comical. Even with the translation, they seemed to have a hard time understanding what we were saying.

They just announced that they have filled the plunge pool on Deck 5 and that people should get into their bathingsuits and jump in.

later  They had some takers! That is some hysterical video footage that I got.

As I was walking back inside, I noticed that there was a massive tabular iceberg right near us! I am about to get dressed to go on another zodiac cruise, which they said would be about an hour or an hour and a half, to Rosamel Island. This one would be focusing mainly on icebergs. Photography time. I’m not anxious to go back out in the cold. My feet were very uncomfortable this morning after the first cruise.

But I’ll persevere. You miss things when concern for comfort interferes with the sense of adventure. Also - there is no bad weather, just inappropriate clothing!

still later - almost bedtime  I had a great afternoon and evening. We spent about one and a half hours touring the sea area around the icebergs and it was so calm and peaceful - no wind at all. I was very comfortable except for my feet, which as always were quite cold. Icebergs are beautiful. The guide pointed out areas that indicated something of the icebergs’ history - lines, scratches, holes, and so on, all indicating where there had been erosion, exposure to sea water, turning, etc. Towards the end we saw one massive iceberg beginning to totter back and forth.

After we got back, we had a lovely “happy hour” with free mulled wine (too spicy and strong for my taste, so I didn’t finish mine) and then a beautiful buffet dinner with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and ice cream for dessert. A little while later, we did the singalong with me at the piano in the lounge.

THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

On the first day of Christmas the Ioffe gave to me

An iceberg in the Weddell Sea

2nd day - Two tons of krill

3rd day - Three Russian sailors

4th day - Four calls from Hayley

FIVE HUMPBACK WHALES

6th day - Six dolphins playing

7th day - Seven zodiacs sinking (!)

8th day - Eight seals a milking

9th day - Nine penguins barfing

10th day - Ten toes are freezing!

11th day - Eleven crew a-boozing

12th day - Twelve cameras snapping