Jan 24: In the Beagle Channel

 So we arrived in the Beagle Channel and we are awaiting our scheduled time to pull into the pier. We were steaming for much of the day, and are still steaming, albeit at a very slow speed; just enough to control the ship (called "steerage way"). We should tie up tomorrow around 7 AM, then I'm off to the luggage storage building to pick up my luggage to drag to the hotel for the night - my flight to Buenos Aires takes off the following day around 2 PM. And I've got to admit I've lost track of what day today is. And I see on the calendar - since I'm writing after midnight it's now Saturday. 

It was a busy day today, with stuff that had to get done, but was time-consuming - like turning in our boots. Wait in line, wait a little more, keep waiting, then a line through my name, a quick look for penguin poo, and OK to go. Then the next thing and the next - lectures, disembarkation briefing, paying off our room charges, tips for the staff who helped us the most, excursions outside (in the cold and windy rain) to search for signs of land, and so forth. It made for a full, if only moderately productive day.

It was also sort of like yearbook season in high school - people gathering contact information, scanning QR codes, sending contact emails, and the like. In high school I assumed that some did this for form's sake, that some fully intended to remain in touch...but just didn't, and that some would be friends for decades, if not for life. One Antarctic cruise veteran with whom I spoke before coming here said that their shared experiences made her closest companions a tighter group than she'd expected - that their shared experiences gave them common ground that helped to strengthen what would otherwise have been a distant and casual relationship. I hope that's the case here, with those with whom I have spent the most time at meals, in conversations along the passageways and over meals, those with whom I have tramped across the ice and with whom I shared a Zodiac. After all that all of have experienced together it would be a shame to simply go our separate ways with only fading memories to take us through the years.

This has been an emotional voyage for me. Simply being here is something I've dreamed about for nearly a half-century; the fact that Antarctica and South Georgia Island were my mother's favorite places on Earth makes it even more important, heightened by the fact that it was my inheritance from my mother that made this trip possible. On top of that, my wife told me that, while she'd love to visit Antarctica, she realized how much it meant to me and told me to take the longer voyage as a solo traveler so that I could see and experience more. All of these - along with the natural beauty, the wildlife, and so much more conspired to make this a wonderful trip with notes of bittersweet. 

As we were sailing, Zodiacing, and tromping across the ice, rock, and snow it occurred to me that the last few weeks have been life - simplified. Antarctica is certainly simplified - there is only ice, rock, snow, and water - with a topping of penguins and seals - and nothing else really seems to matter much. Similarly, being on the ocean is simplified as well - there's only the sea, the weather, and the ship; the ship is trying to get us to our next destination healthy and on time while the sea and the weather are trying to stop or slow us down as much as they can. In and around all of that are the mundane details of life as we know it in the early 21st century - meals, sleep, laundry, internet connectivity and upload speed, but those are secondary concerns. If the wind and the waves are successful then the quality of our cruise experience and our upload speeds (especially our upload speeds!) are worthless. 

It's been a great few weeks - but I know it's time to head home and to re-complicate my life. C'est las vie.