Oh is the ocean a watery waste, with a nauseous motion and a terrible taste.
By some measures the Drake Passage is a watery waste. It is that notorious stretch of some 700 miles of often stormy seas that separate the tip of South America from the Antarctic Peninsula. But for us and our shipmates the crossing of the Drake was relatively easy. For a time the sun shone on the backs of the fluid hills that roam these latitudes. The albatross and petrels wheeled in our wake looking for a meal churned at our stern. Every four hours the watch officer marked the ship's position on the chart. It showed our steady progress north into higher latitudes. We napped and read. A day at sea to reflect on our few days below the convergence and prepare for the Falkland Islands, the next phase of our adventure.
