The Ross Sea Antarctica, part two
Our first full day at sea.
It’s our first full day at sea. I’ve felt worse but I’ve also felt better. Last night I took a pill and decide to wait until lunch to take another. We’ll see how it goes.
As we head further south the day breaks earlier and lasts longer. After we are south of the Antarctic Circle the sun won’t set until we head back north. From the balcony of my room all I can see is the sea.
I take breakfast in the formal dining room. After selecting a few items from the buffet I’m asked if I’d like anything from a menu of additional items. I ask for waffles.
The day is set aside for briefings, gearing up and making sure our clothes are decontaminated. We’re assigned color groups and timings. I’m in the red group. The white group is comprised of the Chinese passengers.
At 0900 there is a mandatory zodiac briefing. We are not allowed to board one unless we attend. At 1120 we pick up boots. At 1130 there is a singles cocktail mingle. I attend, but am feeling a little worse for the wear and settle into a sofa in the observation lounge.
Two singles come to sit by me and I fall into conversation with them. She’s from Denver, Colorado, he’s from Flagstaff, Arizona. She ended up in Denver by happenstance. She had been living abroad working in Africa (mainly Ethiopia) and had to come back to the States for personal reasons. She’s looking to leave.
I ask her about Addis; she asks if I’ve been. I have and she’s surprised when I say so. She tells me she always told people who wanted to visit there was nothing to do in Ethiopia and always arranged to meet them elsewhere. I spent a month there with a friend and loved it.
We bond over Namibia, one of our favorite countries and talk about the other countries in the region before she decides to head to lunch. I’m not quite ready and tell them I’ll see them around.
For lunch I head to the buffet and nibble on bites. When I see a fellow passenger with a dollop of chocolate mousse I decide I have to finish my meal with some myself.
At 14h I bring all my outdoor wear to be decontaminated. A Chilean guide goes over all my clothes, tsking when he finds seeds lodged in the mesh of my exercise pants and sesame seeds in my camera bag. At 15h we’re given our parkas. They’re heavy and warm, but the pockets are shallow and zippered. I long for the ones handed out on my last cruise with their deep pockets and magnetic flap enclosures.
Heading back to my room I see the door to the bridge is open and I go to take a look. The Navigation Officer is on watch. I ask her how she came to be on board. She tells me she always wanted to travel.
She’s sailed on cable layers and cargo ships but prefers cruises. The longest she’s been at sea without touching land was 15 days and the largest ship was a tanker slightly larger than the ship we are on now. This is her first trip to Antarctica. I ask her how she likes sailing this vessel and she tells me the crew is nice which makes for a great voyage.
In the evening we amass in the theater for the evening briefing. Were told that it’s a unique experience we’re embarking upon. How unique? The exepdition leader shows us a slide:
In 2022, fewer than 267,000 people visited the Galapagos Islands. Fewer than 100,000 pepole visited Antarctica. Fewer than 37,000 people visited Everest Base Camp with 690 summiting.
In 2022/23, 71,258 people landed on Antarctica. Fewer than 1,000 people visited the Auckland Islands. Fewer than 1,000 visited Macquarie Island, and fewer than 260 visited the Snares. 893 people set food in Scott’s Hut on Cape Evans; 680 people in Shackleton’s hut on Cape Royds. We’re hoping to hit all of the above.
At dinner I am joined by a German woman traveling alone, the woman I met at the hotel, another woman and a couple from Australia. The German woman talks of how easy flying used to be: that at JFK they wouldn’t even look at your passport when boarding; the lax security measures; the fact that there was only first and economy, business class wasn’t a thing; the dollops of caviar she’d be offered on boarding. The woman I met at the hotel tells her that in Cathay they still dole out caviar in first. The German woman laughs. She no longer travels for business and doesn’t pay for first.
It seems as though she lived through a golden age of flying.
After dinner I head back to the bridge. It’s quiet and serene. Albatros fly before the bow, soaring in graceful arcs above the waves. We hope to see the sunset but sigh when it disappears behind the marine layer.
I fall into conversation with the Safety officer, who is on watch. She asks if I have any questions and somehow it comes up that they still use paper charts to check their progress. She has Fabrice, the cadet, show me. Afterwards, I ask her how he did. She smiles in response.
I ask her where she’s from and she tells me. Her father was a fisherman so she sea runs in her blood. She’s carrying on the tradition. Her father must be very proud. He is, she says. She had hoped to have him on board but the cabins were sold out.
It’s her first time headed to Antarctica, her third contract with Ponant. She’s excited for the experience. She’s encountered ice before around Alaska but it’ll be nothing like this. I ask her what her dream boat would be. A small motor yacht she could take around the Mediterranean. A dreamy look enters her eye.
She asks me how I’ve felt. I tell her I’ve struggled a little bit today. She admits to have felt a little off herself, partially because she’s tired. She flew two days from home to embark on this cruise. I tell her a friend of mine who is a naval architect tells me he never gets seasick. She tells me her father, the fisherman, was seasick his entire life. She thinks everyone gets seasick, it just depends on the motion of the vessel.
The day grows dark with the coming night and I take my leave, formally introducing myself to the Safety Officer. I tell her I hope to see her again. She invites me to return whenever the bridge is open. I thank her. I tell her I will. 🇦🇶
