[Drake Passage. 62 deg. South, 59.4 deg. East] When daybreak opened over the horizon at 4:15 a.m., the gulls and terns from where we sailed, Tierra Del Fuego, had been replaced by storm petrels gliding and dipping over a rolling sea and plunging swells as wide as the face of time.

Yesterday, towards dark, our ship had traveled due east along the Beagle Channel for nine hours, leaving in its wake white-colored mountains, Point San Pio, Lennox Island, and Cabo De Hornos (Cape Horn, named in 1616). 

Now, in open water, I found the wash of sea hypnotic, causing astonishing introspection like beach surf or a cabin fireplace. Then, steering south/southwest, making 11 knots, the Clipper Adventurer, arched down into vanishing waves and ghostly teal water. 

Today, topside, well into the unguarded fetch of the 500-miles-across Drake Passage, the 40 knots of true wind needled my eyes and the noise sounded like a mass of silk being pulled through trees, as we pull hair through a comb. The wind whistled, hummed, throbbed, and boomed up the ship's hull full of toil and turmoil. 

For our expedition members, the shortage of “sea legs” has been a surprise of another sort. The continual motion of the ship--up, down, roll right, roll left--laid out more than a few of them. They staggered around like sun-struck legionnaires on a Moroccan dessert or groaned in their bunks…or worse.

Shipboard Life
Our ship is a bit more suited for these waters than the H.M.S. Beagle which carried Charles Darwin through this part of the world between 1831 and 1836. Our Clipper Adventurer , at 400 tons, is nearly 400’ long, 50’ across the beam, and has a draft of 15’. She is 25 years of age. Although she is not an icebreaker, she has a hull reinforced for ice (class A-1) and is worthy for this trip.

In addition to the passengers, the ship has 38 on her staff, including numerous stewards and a historian. Amenities include a table-service dining room, two bars, a lounge/presentation room, a library stocked full of nautical books, an exercise room, a medical clinic, and 61 outside cabins each featuring a self-contained, bath & toilet. Some of the more deluxe staterooms contain separate sitting areas with a sofa, minifridge, double windows, and even (egad this ain’t the QE ll for goodness sake, or is it?) a Jacuzzi tub.

She might not be as elegant as the S.S. Rotterdam, but Adventurer’s cuisine rivals any seagoing ship, I think. Chef Zeldy, a kind of Etouffe of oceanic gastronomy, daily creates wonders such as Surf and Turf (yes, indeedy) risottos, curried Cacciatores, Marsalas, and spinach strudels and the like for dessert—-for both lunch and dinner.

Directed by operations manager, Eva Moli Westerholm and maitre d’ Narendua Seeram who recommends the Mouton Cadet wine and a dram or two of El Dorado Guyanese rum, the wait staff, blessed with a sense of humor and the athleticism of decathletes, attends to guests’ wants with the efficiency of Deer Valley Resort sommeliers.

Looking Ahead
Riding herd over our expedition's tribe of adventurers is a staff led by Laurie Dexter. Dexter, 62, a former Anglican minister who once lived on Baffin Island among the Inuit, at about 65 degrees North latitude--a long way from here! Laurie was a member of the first team of explorers to ski from one side to the other of the Polar Ocean, a trip that took 91 days on that savage arena at the top of the world, the Arctic ice cap.

He also made the first traverse of Bylot Island, a fearful place that rests at 72 degrees North. Although he makes his home in Fort Smith in Canada’s Northwest Territory, Laurie is typically at sea eight months out of the year.

Dexter is part Jackrabbit Johansson, part scientist, naturalist, and historian; he’s also an expert in Antarctic politics and environmental protection. 

Depending on the ice flow and weather, tomorrow he may lead us ashore at Nicholson Harbor on tiny Trinity Island for our first day of climbing and skiing on the Antarctic continent. 

Tonight, I think I’ll order the French Onion soup and Chicken Oreganato, with maybe a mop up of Crème Brulee. Oh yeah, and don’t forget the rum.

Editor’s Note: This report is one in a series written for Tahoetopia by Tahoe resident and writer, Robert Frohlich. “Fro” is a member of the IceAxe expedition and a regular contributor to Tahoetopia.  The picture at the top of the story is one taken by NASA of the Antarctic continent. The other satellite-type images are from Google World. 1109