At Sea between the Falklands and Chile
The winds are down, the waves are smoothing out and Chile is in view. I cannot imagine a more perfect voyage. We did it. We hit all the highlights. The Shackleton trekkers were successful in crossing South Georgia. We onboard the ship made all the landings we had hoped for and in good clear and sunny weather to boot. The wildlife was beyond belief, in numbers too difficult to describe and their behavior and antics indescribable as well. The magnetic island of South Georgia is behind us; a memory somewhat dreamlike, and we are equally reminiscing about the Falkland Islands as we enter the Straits of Magellan on our way to our final port – Punta Arenas.
The wildlife in these remote regions is so beautiful and yet fragile at the same time. We have heard of long-line fisheries and collapsing food sources for these critters, but we cannot lose hope that there is a place where nature is still in charge. The little rockhopper penguins, their numbers having dropped dramatically over the past decades, are beginning to rebound. We remember their feisty dispositions and colorful antics, the golden crests over a red eye, their eggs on nests with the promise of a new generation, all in the company of black-browed albatrosses that share their colonies.
Giant petrels wing over our bow as we approach the Straits of Magellan, the famous passageway transited by Magellan nearly five hundred years ago. Many toasts and ripples of laughter echo through the ship as new friends bid farewell.
The winds are down, the waves are smoothing out and Chile is in view. I cannot imagine a more perfect voyage. We did it. We hit all the highlights. The Shackleton trekkers were successful in crossing South Georgia. We onboard the ship made all the landings we had hoped for and in good clear and sunny weather to boot. The wildlife was beyond belief, in numbers too difficult to describe and their behavior and antics indescribable as well. The magnetic island of South Georgia is behind us; a memory somewhat dreamlike, and we are equally reminiscing about the Falkland Islands as we enter the Straits of Magellan on our way to our final port – Punta Arenas.
The wildlife in these remote regions is so beautiful and yet fragile at the same time. We have heard of long-line fisheries and collapsing food sources for these critters, but we cannot lose hope that there is a place where nature is still in charge. The little rockhopper penguins, their numbers having dropped dramatically over the past decades, are beginning to rebound. We remember their feisty dispositions and colorful antics, the golden crests over a red eye, their eggs on nests with the promise of a new generation, all in the company of black-browed albatrosses that share their colonies.
Giant petrels wing over our bow as we approach the Straits of Magellan, the famous passageway transited by Magellan nearly five hundred years ago. Many toasts and ripples of laughter echo through the ship as new friends bid farewell.
