Cape Horn and the Beagle Channel
0600 Position 56 28’ S, 067 o8’ W. Light wind with a gentle swell from the NE. Thin wispy cloud with high cirrus, temperature 45F.
The early birders are up on the bridge with early pastries and coffees, reflecting on the glories of our recent sojourn along the Antarctic Peninsula. In the far distance is arrayed the jagged skyline of Tierra del Fuego, where the Andes plunge into the southern ocean. Around 0900 we were closing on Cape Horn, Cabo de Hornos to the Chileans who claim it, Cap Hoorn to the Dutch who first named it.
Everyone was out on the deck, where albatross and shearwaters weave around the bow in figures of eight. Our own ship naturalist, artist and troubadour Ian Bullock told us the story of this infamous landmark over the loudspeaker system. That feisty pirate Francis Drake first sailed under it – he had threaded Magellan’s Strait, emerged into the “South Sea” (Pacific) only to be swept back south and east by a savage storm. As his ship was battered east, he realized that no more land lay to the south. There was no southern continent visible here: so it is that this deadly stretch of water is known as the Drake Passage. Ian read the moving poem written to commemorate those sailors who drowned in these turbulent waters: “Soy el Albatross”. A dramatic memorial stands alongside the Chilean lighthouse on the island, two carved steel plates which create the silhouette of the albatross. In the rough waters below it, hundreds of Black-browed Albatross were wheeling and feeding along the shore.
After Cape Horn we steamed towards the Beagle Channel. Briefly we were joined by Dusky Dolphins bow-riding, early escorts towards more sheltered waters. On both sides were the wild, windswept islands of Tierra del Fuego. After lunch the beautiful day was filled with presentations by David Doubilet and, later, NASA astronaut Rick Hauck. The Argentinean pilot came alongside to board us for our approach to Ushuaia, but this dramatic event was eclipsed by an outbreak of Swedish pancakes below decks. The Captain’s Farewell cocktail party was a rowdy affair, ruined by the sudden appearance of a raucous band of revelers called the Frog’s Chorus, who insulted us all with a diatribe against Overeating, called “Cos I Ate the Starters, Main Course and the Cake”. They were booed off and, oblivious, we all went down to a last supper.
After a wonderful dinner our voyage was complete as we docked at the sheltered harbor of Ushuaia, safely home from our travels to the remotest continent on earth.
