Tag Archives: ponantcruises

a nervous time…

19 Sunday Apr 2020

Posted by in Travel

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

, , ,

Thirty-six hours prior to landing in CapeTown saw us hit the roughest seas of the trip. The sick bags appeared on the hand rails again, and this time, both Don and I were feeling passing waves (excuse the pun) of seasickness. We visited the bridge to watch the huge swell and waves lash the ship, even up to the windows of deck 5, which, incidentally, was the deck we were staying on! Even this did not make me want to leave the ship for the next leg of our journey.

This is deck 5, looking out from the bridge as the waves smashed us!

Our arrival into CapeTown was filled with mixed emotions…for me at least. If I’m honest, I have to say that I never had a desire to visit CapeTown, so for me we were leaving the best holiday we’d ever had, and if we were allowed to disembark, transitioning into a place I didn’t really want to be. Even Don, who had wanted to go there for years remarked how dry and brown Table Mountain looked. You seldom hear about it but South Africa’s rainfall levels have steadily decreased for decades. There had been a serious water shortage only the year before. Finally, they’d had enough rain to replenish some areas, but still nowhere near historic normal rainfall. We were glad we had made the decision to not stay the night in CapeTown, and especially glad since this is where coronavirus started in South Africa.

Finally, as we approached CapeTown the seas abated. Table Mountain with the city below.
The ill-fated German ship is the second one back on the right.

We knew that this part of the trip could be fraught with difficulty. Our travel agents had conferred on our part and decided we should stick with the bookings we had, and try to complete the last 6 days of our trip. We had been granted permission to dock the ship, but passengers would not be allowed to disembark until everyone’s temperature had been taken the evening of our arrival. This was more than had been allowed for a German ship that had arrived just days before us, at the same dock. The German ship had been flat out refused permission to allow passengers off, and further, had been told to go away! I had made friends with a German couple on our voyage and they later updated me with the fate of the German ship. It was eventually allowed to stay at the dock but the passengers were not allowed to leave until Germany sent charter flights to take the 2000 passengers home. It was a couple of weeks before that happened, apparently.

There was a gorgeous sunrise on the morning of our departure. But it was bitter-sweet.
The docks were very industrial but the sunrise transformed the place.

The next morning our health report was good. We had been confident it would be. We were just unsure if the authorities would see things the same way. Early that morning, we were allowed to leave Le Lyrial. As we departed we were handed a face mask, our names crossed off the passenger manifest, and the Captain…Our Captain, as always, was there to bid us bon voyage. We elbow bumped and I told him again how very much we had enjoyed the voyage. Even as I write this, there is a lump in my throat when I think of the sadness at leaving our safe bubble and the care of our dedicated Captain and crew. We walked down the ramp and onto the dock where dock workers in high vis vests and masks pointed us toward the immigration area. Already the world seemed impersonal and strange. Surprisingly, no one checked our immunisation documents, as we had been told they would. We were simply passed through to find our bags and exit outside to the transport area. It was all so ordinary and unceremonious, and scary.

After a short wait our transfer driver, Denzel, appeared with a very clean vehicle supplied with every kind of sanitiser known to humankind. We were soon to find out, sanitiser and soap was in plentiful supply in South Africa. Also plentiful were smiles and assistance. Once we had collected our rental car, we drove straight out of CapeTown to the town of Stellenbosch. It was only an hour’s drive and when we arrived at the B&B it wasn’t yet lunch time. Don was reeling from the effects of being at sea for most of the last three weeks, and by the next day I was feeling it too. We would suddenly be taken over by a woozy, disorienting feeling, as we tried to get our land legs back again.

Cape Dutch architecture gives most of South Africa a characterful, quaint atmosphere. As luck would have it, we found one of few restaurants (The Hussar Grill) still serving alcohol, and the best haloumi and roasted vegetable salad I’ve eaten.

Unsurprisingly, we were both exhausted. We spent the afternoon at the nearby botanic gardens, where we also had a very nice lunch. Later that afternoon we strolled through a very quiet Stellenbosch and learned the government had closed all the pubs and most wineries, and there was no sale of liquor allowed after 1pm…so if you wanted a Bloody Mary for breakfast you were fine, but something with dinner, not likely. The government had already begun its effort to discourage gatherings by limiting the sale of alcohol. There were a few exceptions, one of which we happened to find for dinner. It was a nervous time for everyone.

The empty streets of Stellenbosch spoke volumes.

We had rented a small apartment in a Victorian era house that had been converted. It was so delightful and felt immediately like a safe place to be. We had a lovely little garden and a small kitchenette. However, there was little time to enjoy our oasis, we were already heading on to our next adventure the following day. And in our spare time we nervously watched the news headlines.

too much of a good thing…

17 Friday Apr 2020

Posted by in Food

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

, , ,

When things are difficult, we yearn for comfort. As we neared the end of the cruise and tensions were raising due to the many uncertainties, the Chef and his staff consistently soothed us with pastries and afternoon teas. It felt like my absolute duty to taste-test the offerings. Research, you understand.

Warning: items shown in this blog post have been consumed. Discretion is advised.

Each night for the entire cruise, we returned from dinner to a small pastry or sweet of some kind. Often we were too full and too tired to eat it, but it was such a nice little thing to return to the room, bed turned down, towels refreshed, room tidied, and two little night nibbles. One evening in particular there appeared on our freshly turned down bed, two perfectly lovely little boxes decorated with a likeness of French author, Marcel Proust. Each contained one of his favourite small, shell shaped cakes known as ‘madeleines’.

It seemed only polite to sample the many breads, pastries and croissant freshly baked for breakfast each morning. I remained restrained throughout, but carefully worked my way through, the flakey fruit pastries, the croissant and the many varieties of bread that were beautifully displayed. I regularly returned to favourites like croissant and grainy bread. Mostly I had a bowl of fruit and a piece or two of cheese, followed by a pastry or piece of bread…delicious…with butter. If that sounds sinful, guilty as charged.

For lunch and dinner there was also bread but often I saved myself for a little dessert. One of the best things about desserts were the very small servings. Could this be the secret to how French women stay so slim? One could taste and enjoy without completely throwing caution to the wind. Or when one felt compelled, try two or three things…because they were so very tiny…not me of course…but I heard stories…

My two favourite meals were a confit duck pie, and vegetables on polenta. Most meals were very good, even with me having to dodge onion in things, but these two were outstanding, comfort food dishes, while being a bit gourmet as well.

Confit Duck Parmentier, french shepherd’s pie, a piece of grainy bread and a glass of rosé.
Vegetables on polenta, perfectly creamy and comforting.

For the first half of the cruise I am sorry to say I purposely avoided the afternoon teas. There was so much good food at meal times and then there was the whole ‘will my pants fit me in another three weeks?’ issue. I thought discretion was called for. However. I made up for it the last week or so when they started doing themed teas…

Parisian classics – the tiny one dipped in chocolate is a small madeleine…the round one to the left was my favourite ‘cookie’, a crisp buttery morsel, but one was never enough, the little tiny ‘loaf’ shaped cake was almond.

French Regional Classics –tiny donuts in sugar, an almond bread filled with lemon curd, and an orange flavoured glutinous mouthful to the right

Choux and Mille Feuille–choux pastry filled with custard, and crispy layered pastry, likewise filled with custard

 Macarons–classic meringue shells with pistachio, chocolate or vanilla cream filling

And Crêpes Suzette, so tender and sweet, it was comfort on a plate.

Oo lala. So fancy.

For those who are partial to savoury tea treats, there was a ‘pata negra’ tasting (Spanish ham, named for the hoof colour of the pigs from which it is made), caviar tasting, and often tiny little toasted French sandwiches.

Creme Caramel is always a favourite of mine and this was no exception. The photo doesn’t look so attractive, but the flavour was delicious. Also, a favourite was the lemon tart. So clean, crisp and just sweet enough. This came in two forms, a single serving tart with meringue topping, and a simple tart with no topping. I preferred the simple tart but somehow missed getting a good photo of it…probably ate it too fast.

I also would not refuse this almond and nut tart if someone sat it in front of me.

The pièce de résistance, however, was the chocolate tart. It really was perfection. The filling was rich and velvety, the pastry crisp and light. Merveilleux. (I learned the French word for ‘marvellous’ just so I could complement the chef)

Food and wine wasn’t the most important reason we chose this trip, but it was certainly a major contributor to our enjoyment. And too much of a good thing can be wonderful, n’est-ce pas?

Tristan da Cunha…

15 Wednesday Apr 2020

Posted by in nature, photography, Travel

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

, , , , ,

After the Captain’s tale of the Somali pirates, most of us would have followed him anywhere. So, when we approached the first of our supposed excursions around the Tristan da Cunha group (Gough Island) if he had said ‘Jump!’, to get into the zodiacs, we might have done it! However, the seas were rough and it was decided it was unsafe for our planned excursion, so we would have to view the island from the ship. The ship was manoeuvred as close as safety would allow and through the mists we could see it was a wild and not easily accessible place.

The mists are clearing…
Another bit of good fortune for our afternoon excursion.
Exploring around Tristan da Cunha’s rugged coastline.

The next day was better for excursions and during that day we also got a look at the community of Tristan da Cunha…from afar. After exploring the coast of the island, it was nearing the end of the day and the light was gorgeous. Most of us gathered on deck to enjoy the light and the splendid sunset.

Marcus and Laura and the community of Tristan in the distance.

This photo, taken on that glorious sunset evening, shows Marcus Bergstrom, from Sweden, and Laura Jordan from France, both Naturalists. They also had excellent command of English, were licensed zodiac drivers, and were excellent photographers. Marcus was the ‘bird guy’ who loved Albatrosses, and Laura has an Instagram feed (@laurajordan_) specialising in photos and videos from this cruise and others. There were ten naturalists in all, some with many years of education and experience and who spoke several languages.

During our visit to Tristan da Cunha there was a very sweet little background story developing. Our local expert, Conrad, had been supposed to stay at his home on Tristan once our tour of the islands finished. However, the town was not even allowing him to disembark! And worse, the town, whose speciality is fresh lobster, was not going to supply the lobster our chef had ordered! This was dire. Conrad would have to accompany us to CapeTown and figure out how to get home later. There are no airstrips so his only choice would be sea travel. Our very creative thinking crew hatched another idea. The afternoon, after we had completed our zodiac cruises of Tristan, we saw a zodiac with Conrad ripping through the waters back toward the ship. In the boat, piled around him, were bags of fresh lobsters, and his lovely wife huddled against him to accompany him for the remainder of his quarantine in CapeTown, however long that might be. His wife had loaded the lobsters and then herself into the zodiac to join her husband and preserve everyone’s safety. Knowing what we do now, we think Conrad and his wife were probably not able to leave South Africa. I guess we will never know.

Before leaving the archipelago we had excursions to the other two islands in this group, Nightingale and Inaccessible. To be perfectly honest, our schedule was now so different from plan A and plan B, I have no idea which of these photos were from which island. Normally when I am confused I just check the metadata on the photos and it will have the place name. But in the Southern Ocean, the photos mostly just say ‘Southern Ocean’. Helpful. It doesn’t really matter, they were very close together and both quite wild and, as the name of the latter would indicate, mostly inaccessible except by zodiac.

I couldn’t believe I captured this photo of an Antarctic Tern with the island in the background. Antarctic Terns have a wingspan of about 3 feet, so a relatively large bird, but compared to Albatrosses, quite small!
The rockhopper penguins are everywhere in this region.
The water was so clear and a beautiful colour, but it was the seaweed I loved. It was growing up from the floor of the ocean and had amazing textures. Those little bulbous pieces are full of air and help the seaweed float so it can reach the light.
Seals and more seals.
The coastline was full of caves and alcoves growing lichens, fungi and tussock.
These Antarctic Fur Seals had found their own little rock pool, perfect for splashing.

COVID-19 news was becoming more and more worrisome with each day. At about this point in the trip, again, the Captain called everyone to the theatre, this time, at 9.30 in the evening. I was beyond tired and Don agreed to attend and tell me the outcome. Based on recent experience we thought it would be serious. It was. The Ponant company had decided to ask all ships to go to the nearest port, disembark passengers and head for home port in Marseilles. This turned out to be extremely good judgement on their part. We were still four days from CapeTown which was the soonest we could get anywhere. All of the crew except for 21, would also have to disembark there, as would those passengers who had been supposed to take the cruise on to Durbin and the Seychelles. The anxiety became palpable. We compared stories of where we were supposed to travel next and how we might amend our plans, while sharing with each other any information we had. Good access to internet meant that we were aware of the rapid changes in conditions since we had departed Ushuaia, but there was not a single thing we could do except communicate with our travel agents and revise plans, until we got to CapeTown. We weren’t even certain if we would be allowed off the ship once we arrived, but somehow the crew kept smiling, all the while working on our behalf behind the scenes.

when is she ever going to end this saga??…soon my pretties, soon…

disease, disappointment and pirates…

13 Monday Apr 2020

Posted by in Travel

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

Once again we were at sea. A time to settle and to look forward to the next part of the journey, the islands of Tristan da Cunha. We were to stop at three of the islands in the archipelago. Most of us knew nothing about Tristan, but Ponant, ever foreword thinking in its effort to make the trip enjoyable and educational, had a member of the Tristan community aboard the ship! He had been the community police officer for about 30 years and was able to answer any question you could put to him. This town of less than 300 people had begun after a shipwreck in the 1600’s. Some of the crew members decided to stay and make a life on Tristan. Others left to return home, and gradually over the years other ships had left passengers who wanted to remain, some married and on it went. In 1816 the British claimed Tristan as a strategic territory in an effort to ensure Napoleon, incarcerated on St. Helena, would not be rescued by the French. St. Helena was over a thousand miles away and once they were assured this wouldn’t happen, the British left Tristan and went home. There are only 7 surnames among the inhabitants, all reflecting the mixed heritage of Asian, European and African.  It is a largely agrarian lifestyle more akin to what our great-grandparents lived. They fish and grow their own vegetables, raise sheep and spin their own wool. These days they are able to get occasional shipments of more modern goods, and they even have the internet. But it remains arguably the most remote inhabited island in the world. It would take us four days to reach Tristan.

During those days we had a choice of a number of talks and films, as well as various entertainment opportunities–classical piano, contemporary singing, games, quizzes, the usual suspects. We were also fortunate to sight a Right Whale swimming along with the ship one day, and many different birds. It was shocking to think how far from land those birds were!

It was then we learned COVID-19 had finally caught up with us.

Once again the Captain summoned us to the theatre to give us the news. Our anticipated stop at Tristan da Cunha was in doubt. Serious doubt. After much deliberation between our guide leader and Captain and the town leaders of Tristan, it was decided the town did not want to take the risk of letting us come ashore. They did not want to risk their elderly to the virus, even though no one on the ship showed any symptoms at all. There was not even a runny nose that I saw the entire three weeks. But the Tristan inhabitants stood firm.

Heavy cloud greeted us at Gough Island.

Once again our Captain and crew made decisions to reorganise our excursions while in the archipelago. We would do all of our visits from the safety of the zodiacs. By the time we got to CapeTown, we had not touched land for 12 days. If that didn’t make us virus free, I don’t know what would!

The ship was stopped when I took this photo, and the swell was washing over the deck where we normally board the zodiacs. Getting on and off safely was impossible.
The first day we were unable to leave the ship due to rough seas and poor visibility. The crew had their gear at the ready, but it was not to be.

Later that afternoon, the skies cleared and the sea shone like silver, studded with the most spectacular pod of between 200-300 Dusky Dolphins.

Dusky Dolphins

It was also during this time at sea before reaching the archipelago that the rumours around the ship began to circulate. Captain Marchesseau was somewhat of a hero in France. Really? I am not a good enough writer to sufficiently describe the character of the Captain. We knew him as very funny, capable of astounding mimicry of a king penguin over the intercom, as well as attentive to every detail of the ship’s operation. It was clear he was a man of great capability, but a hero? Do tell.

As luck would have it, and we seemed to ‘have it’ on a regular basis, the former Admiral of the French Navy was also a passenger on board our cruise. And as we were soon to find out, in 2008, Admiral Gillier became well acquainted with one Captain Marchesseau during a terrible incident aboard a Ponant ship. The two of them generously presented their tale one day in the theatre to an enthralled audience. I won’t tell you in the detail presented, mostly because I can’t remember it all, but you can Google the Captain, Patrick Marchesseau and read it yourself. It was headline making news. The Captain and 30 crew were overtaken by Somali pirates!

Captain Marchesseau and a skeleton crew were heading back to France at the end of a cruise season. As they were moving through a dangerous patch of sea off of Africa, two speed boats approached them and though the captain ordered the ship to do a zig-zag manoeuvre in an effort to shake them, the pirates were experienced enough to know the vulnerable part of the ship was the middle, which moved very little, even in this situation. They threw over their lines and began to board the ship. The crew attempted to fight them off with fire hoses, but the pirates had high powered guns. When a window was shattered from one of the guns, the Captain called the crew to back off and the pirates boarded the ship.

There ensued six days of negotiations and subterfuge on the part of the Captain to keep his crew safe. He had ordered the female crew to the lower bowels of the ship where they stayed for a couple of days, until they no longer could. The captain was worried what the pirates might do to the young women. However, the captain said, the pirates were never abusive toward the crew or himself, discounting the continual week long threat at the point of guns. The Captain began his own subtle power game so that whenever the pirates wanted him to do something, he would negotiate with them to also do something for him. This gave him some respect from the pirates, but also gave him back a little control. He was able to send an SOS signal without them knowing, and he and his crew were able to fake some engine trouble that meant they had to travel more slowly, giving the Admiral and navy time to respond to the situation. For example, when the pirates wanted to bring aboard goats and sheep and slaughter them live for their own food, he made them agree to clean up after themselves, which, surprisingly, they did.

Eventually the ship was moored in waters off the Somalia coast. The Admiral from his end, and the Captain from his end, negotiated a trade of the crew for a few hundred thousand Euros. On the final and seventh day of the siege, the crew, except Captain Marchesseau, were released into French hands, while four of the pirates took the money and headed inland. The remaining pirates on board, perhaps thinking their operation had succeeded and they could relax, had taken their attentions away from the Captain. He had walked far forward to the bow of the ship with a radio, to communicate with the French navy as the crew was released. He found himself standing on the bow of the ship. Alone… wondering what would happen next, when came an order: “JUMP!” Being an obedient servant of his country, he thought for a very brief second after hearing the order, ‘Yes, why not?!’ And so he did. Jump. From the bow of the ship into the water. Waiting for him was a boat, hidden just out of sight in the shadow of the bow.

A long way down…

If you have ever stared up at the deck of a ship from the water’s height, you will know it is a very long drop. But the captain’s courage won the day. The Admiral put a plan into action to capture the pirates and the ransom. They captured seven of the pirates, five of whom were convicted and sent to jail, but only part of the ransom, which had been quickly dispersed.

If you Google the Captain you will find mention of the book he wrote about the entire ordeal, and many photos of his welcome home, receiving an award for bravery and so on. So all the while we had been in the most capable hands, which he continued to prove, even as, six days later we would disembark into the world of COVID-19.

a shivering tale…

10 Friday Apr 2020

Posted by in Travel

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

, ,

While we slept, the ship made its way to Right Whale Bay. However, the waters were too rough for our planned zodiac excursion that morning and the Captain had repositioned us. Oddly, we noticed another ship sharing the more protected bay where we had anchored. In fact, it looked to me like I could see a yellow rectangle shape on its hull, indicating it might be a National Geographic ship. I do have pretty fair long vision.

In this new, more protected bay, our group was to be first off the ship for an early morning excursion…7.30am. Ugh. And of course, we didn’t dare drink coffee or tea to wake us up, because…well…the no toilet issue. It was very blustery and cold and much of the excursion was in the shadows of the surrounding cliffs. At some point I remember vaguely seeing a zodiac head for the other ship, which also seemed a bit odd.

Slip-sliding away… (rockhoppers are only about 2ft tall (55cm) and we were pretty far away for the limits of my iPhone so this is not a good photo, but it gives you an idea)

This was to be a short excursion, about 45 minutes, not including loading and unloading the zodiac. We wove around the coastline observing seals and those funny Rockhopper penguins. One group was crowded onto a very rocky and steep space. They seemed to mistakenly think they could hold on to the steep surface indefinitely. However, the relentless force of gravity dragged their feathered friends above them steadily downward forcing the lowest ones lower and lower. One by one the lowest penguin would lose his grip and, like a child with no fear and no grace, would fall into the water. Getting back up was equally tricky and they had to swim around to a less steep edge and scramble up that way. But, really, what does a penguin have to do all day, but play on steep cliffs and fish and swim?? Jump? Why not! We all laughed at their antics, and it took our minds off the cold for a bit.

And then it snowed.

It’s not as if we hadn’t expected snow on this trip.

After the allotted time for the excursion there came a call over the driver’s two way radio (are they still called ‘two-way’ if they are being used by 10?). ‘All zodiacs, do not come back to marina, repeat, do not return to marina’.

Huh? We had noticed the wind and waves had picked up a bit where we were, but apparently the wind had shifted direction and was slapping the ship around too much for the zodiacs to safely dock and unload the passengers. The Captain had determined the ship needed to reposition. So, basically, we were told to  play amongst ourselves a while so the ship could reposition. The theme from Gilligan’s Island was playing in my head…’Five passengers set sail that day, For a three hour tour, a three hour tour….’

And of course a series of years on a deserted island ensued.

It is a vast expanse of sea when you are away from the ship.

Our driver was calm and experienced, explaining this sort of thing happened occasionally. We, and a few other zodiacs, set off to find some albatrosses. They were also reasonably entertaining, their giant feet running and slapping the water as they took off and landed. Our Naturalist/Driver was a ‘bird guy’ and he was particularly excited to see Sooty Albatrosses, his favourites. But we were cold, and wet. My fingerless gloves had let me down badly at this stage, so I just removed them and shoved them into my pockets. By the end of another hour, you could hear the distinct lack of enthusiasm in everyone’s voices and perhaps a small edge of anxiety. Finally, we got the all clear that the ship had repositioned and it was now safe to board. Fortunately, having been the first to leave, we were also the first to return to the marina. Everyone was in agreement, it had been a challenging couple of hours. Not like Shackleton’s voyage, but nevertheless…tea, coffee and French pastries were needed!

Left to right: Sooty Albatross trying to get a bit of shut-eye, a lone king penguin swimming, an Albatross landing

Once everyone was back on board there came an announcement, the Captain requested the presence of everyone in the theatre on deck 4 after lunch. Again, an odd little thing, but we all complied. Once assembled in the theatre, Captain Marchesseau began explaining a few things. While it was true that the excursion at Right Whale Bay had to be cancelled due to the obvious reason of rough weather, there were a few other things that had not been so evident. The reason we had travelled all night from the southern part of South Georgia Island to this more northern area had been to meet the National Geographic ship we had seen in the distance that morning. And the compelling reason we needed to meet them was to transfer a passenger that was ill. Oh.

The Captain hastened to say the passenger was not ill with COVID-19. He assured us a number of times the problem with the passenger was nothing of this nature. Having witnessed the Captain in numerous situations by this point in the trip, we were inclined to believe him. Wanting to protect the passenger’s privacy we were never to learn what the problem had been. However, by luck, and our Captain’s quick thinking, the remainder of our trip was saved. You see, we had all been required to have a five page health document signed by our GP and submitted before the trip, saying that we were in good health. This was because, once the trip had begun, there was no way to get someone ill off the ship. That is, unless your quick thinking Captain recalls a sister ship in the region and he can negotiate a transfer. The Nat Geo ship had facility on board to accommodate the patient, and the hospital in Stanley, The Falklands, had agreed they could take them on as well. The Nat Geo ship had a three day trip to the Falklands to deposit the patient. Otherwise our ship would have had to turn around and take them ourselves. And if that had happened, that is where our trip would have finished because there was simply no time to get to South Africa from the Falklands. No air strips, no other hospitals, this was the only choice. As the captain rightly said, “I would have done this for any one of you, and this person deserved no less.”

Twice in one day we were all feeling like we’d been lucky once again. How long could this last?

sharing their world…

07 Tuesday Apr 2020

Posted by in Animals, nature, Travel

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

It was a short night for recovery from three excursions the day before. But strolling through the  decommissioned whaling station was just what we needed. The sun was glorious, which added a bright touch to the otherwise gloomy history of Grytviken. There were about 14 whaling stations on South Georgia at its peak. Some would process 25 whales a day, and this went on for years. Is it any wonder the population was decimated? This was a grisly business requiring the sturdiest of constitutions to prevail. In the days of whaling the lifestyle was bleak and the work an acute attack on the senses. One can only imagine the sights and smells.

This one has a master’s degree in lolling, don’t you think?

The animals at Grytviken were lolling about in the sun, and we humans were not minding the comparative warmth either. Other than our stop in Stanley, The Falklands, this was the only time we were in contact with a human outside of our shipmates. The few people who live in Grytviken were purely there as caretakers and to run the shop and the Post Office for the ships that stop. It seemed a popular thing to do to post a card or letter from So Georgia, especially for those who were stamp collectors. So you see, when I say we were living in a virus free bubble, I’m really not exaggerating.

This was a native plant called Greater Burnet. The rust colour of its flower heads were the same colour as the rusting buildings all around. The seed has a barb on it that catches on clothing and animal fur and feathers which enable it to more easily spread. These types of things were why we had to regularly check the velcro and folds of our clothes, so not to bio-contaminate places.
Pretty self explanatory really.
This was in the small museum at Grytviken and was a copy from one found there many years ago. I probably don’t need to say more.
These are some of the storage tanks that contained whale oil.

The other main reason for visiting Grytviken was to observe Sir Ernest Shackleton’s grave site. In a perverse way, Shackleton is mostly famous for failing. He attempted to explore Antarctica and his ship became frozen in the ice and was eventually crushed and sank. The crew tried to survive but it became apparent they would need help. Shackleton and five crew members got into the equivalent of a large row boat and after days of horrific weather finally made it to the land of South Georgia Island. Then they walked across the frozen, rugged landscape to get help. The harrowing story of their survival and rescue of the crew has become more important than the fact he never reached Antarctica. Eventually Shackleton’s miscalculation on his third attempt to reach Antarctica saw him die of a heart attack. We usually honour successful explorers, but often it is the unsuccessful ones who have paved the way.

Another bit of housekeeping that you may find interesting was the necessity for us to clean our boots every time we stepped off of the ship into a zodiac, but especially when we went ashore. The crew would help prise stones and shells from the crevices, then we had to rub the boots back and forth over brushes that were sitting in the saltwater. When we got back on the ship more crew would power clean the boots, and finally we would walk through a bath of disinfectant. Every. Single. Time. All of this was the conscientious effort to keep us from cross-contaminating these special places. We learned the lesson well, and as I told you in the first episode of this saga, we even scrubbed our own boots before leaving South Africa for our return trip.

The seal thinks this is spectator sport. Note stand the person in the water is leaning on. The pink just below the surface are the boot cleaning brushes.
Grytviken in the distance.

After lunch that day, Capucine, our cruise director, announced that the Captain had a special surprise for us. This turned out not to be the only surprise the Captain would have for us, but I’ll tell you about that later. We boarded zodiacs, as per normal and were treated to more lovely scenery and wildlife. But just when we thought we would be returning to the ship, our zodiac driver made a detour. There was a lovely waterfall around the corner and once we were there, the naturalist, Lucia, knelt down and opened a specially designed box that held a dozen glasses and a bottle of champagne! We all had a little bubbly, toasting each other and the Captain for what had so far been a wonderful trip.

Seal heaven.
Antarctic fur seals were hunted almost to extinction but thanks to preservation have re-established in great numbers.
Maybe we should name this Surprise Waterfalls.

We had one more excursion that evening, a landing at St. Andrews Bay. This time, the King Penguin colony was over 100,000 PAIRS of King Penguins! It was beyond imagination. King Penguins are gorgeous creatures. Their colouring looks as if it has been airbrushed onto them. They stand about 3 feet tall, but their presence seems much larger. What really impressed me was their gentle curiosity. They would walk right up to us and look, or stroll by as if we were one of their own. There was no fear, but it was their curiosity that was actually rather human-like. I’m sure we look very funny to them, however they only looked beautiful to me. The sound of them was extraordinary too. Occasionally the smell was there, but again, not like you would expect.

The St. Andrews colony had a lot more space to spread out, so it was hard to believe how many were here. And check that glacier in the background!
Probably my favourite photo from the entire trip. If they look like they are communicating, they are. Penguins communicate with their beaks. These two walked right up to me, so close I could have touched them. Incredible.
Penguins usually try to find a stream in which to stand while they are moulting. It helps them regulate their body temperature.

Even though the St. Andrews Bay colony is larger, than the Salisbury Plain one, the area is also larger and so the gathering isn’t as dense. The backdrop was stunning.

I will never forget that hour or so at dusk while these amazing creatures allowed us to share their world. I had to tear myself away, as I’m sure did everyone. This was the reason my intuition had wanted me to make this trip.

a new twist to this adventure coming soon…

(apologies for a notification that went out earlier, I hit the wrong button and published the post that was supposed to come after this one. It has been removed and I’ll publish it in a day or two—or more, if you are feeling overwhelmed, let me know and I’ll slow down the posts!)

South Georgia on my mind…

05 Sunday Apr 2020

Posted by in Animals, humour, nature, Travel

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

, , , , ,

After the flurry of activity in the Falklands, we were happy to have a few days at sea to rest and let everything sink in. However, don’t think we were without plenty to do! Every day either the National Geographic photographer or Nat Geo expert, as well as one of eight Naturalists, would give talks. They would prepare us for what we would see next, as well as review what we had just seen. Occasionally the Captain and the Expedition leader or the Cruise Director would also talk to us, about various functions aboard the ship. And if you were at loose ends you could nearly always go visit the bridge of the ship and stare out at the seemingly endless expanse of water and sky. And then there was afternoon tea. That will require a whole post by itself.

Subtle, but to the point.

On the second of our days traveling to South Georgia Island the seas became a bit rough and we were doing the ‘drunken man’s walk’ up and down the hallways of the ship. And that night, they became even rougher. We were half laughing, and half anxious, when coming back from dinner we saw that ‘sick bags’ had been tucked discreetly behind the hand rails of all the hallways. What were we in for? It turned out, we did indeed, have a rough night. The ship rolled enough that unless you were flat on your back or stomach it was hard to stay in bed. This was the famous Southern Ocean we had heard about. Very surprisingly it did not make us sick, and that was down to the fin stabilisers which literally sliced through the swell and kept the ship from getting tossed in a corkscrew motion. Next morning, a few people appeared with seasick patches on their necks, and a couple were wearing the sea-bands like I had purchased, but since I wasn’t feeling sick, only sleep deprived, I didn’t bother with the sea-bands and I was fine.

Sitting at meals and watching the enormous swell and waves slap the windows was a bit like staring into a front loader washing machine. It was kind of mesmerising too, and almost unbelievable that everyone wasn’t sick.

After 36 hours or so the swell calmed and the choppy waves seemed much less threatening. Every now and then we would lose an hour of sleep to having to set our clocks ahead. This was one such night. There were four hours’ difference between our departure and our eventual landing in Cape Town.

Shag Rocks, westernmost South Georgia Islands. Imagine an early explorer not knowing these were here and snagging the shags??

Early in the day before reaching South Georgia Island we passed the westernmost islands called Shag Rocks. As you might expect this is because it was the roosting place for hundreds and hundreds of Shags, Albatrosses, Prions, great Shearwaters and other birds. The ‘rocks’ are actually the tips of mountains that have their base over one thousand feet deep on the ocean bed. It is from this chain of underwater mountains that the Sandwich Islands and South Georgia also spring up.

There was so much dramatic lighting around South Georgia.
Our first sighting of King Penguins, a smaller Gentoo and some seals for good measure.
This adult Albatross’s wingspan is about 6 feet! The ‘baby’ is still being spoiled!
Where is my Mum?

The first morning of our next zodiac excursion was to Prion Island. This is a very protected area, only allowing small numbers of visitors at a time so larger cruise ships can’t really stop here. Our Expedition Leader had gotten us permission to land, less than 50 people at a time. The Antarctic fur seals greeted us when we landed and the first of the King Penguins were here too, as well as a small colony of Snowy Albatrosses. There were lots of pups and some mums still nursing the babies, but there were also a few very feisty young male pups who were trying out their teeth and aggressive skills as we moved along the boardwalk among them. A lady was nipped on the leg by one, due to a miscalculation, and Don was chased by this one, however we think that may have been moustache envy.

Moustache envy if I ever saw it.
Heading back from Prion Island to the ship. Check out those glaciers!

Our next landing was between two glaciers (not the same glaciers as in the photo above) that lay in the valleys of mountains on the northern coast. Salisbury Plain is a well known colony of about 60,000 King Penguins, some elephant seals and Antarctic fur seals. Many places we visited had several species cohabitating with little problem. Most of the spats and dominance tussles happen within a species and not between species. It was amazing to see them all moving around between one another. Again, the penguins were moulting and at their most vulnerable so we kept our distance so not to disturb them. And in case you are wondering, every so often the wind would waft the guano smell our way. That too was extraordinary, not in a good way. But mostly these colonies did not smell as bad as you might expect.

As the waters calmed, hundreds of king penguins finished with moulting swam out to check out the ship. We watched with absolute delight from the deck.
Each to their own style of sleeping.
What’s for dinner? That depends, did you go fishing today? Er, no. Nuf said.
What 60,000 King Penguins look like on Salisbury Plain.

I’m mostly letting photos do the talking with this post. The place was extraordinary.

On this particular day we had three excursions. If it was exhausting for us, you can imagine how much more exhausted the naturalists and the crew must have been. They were also extraordinary in their efforts to keep us safe but show us the best the surroundings had to offer.

Before each excursion one or two of the naturalists would scout the location to make sure it was safe and that we could see wildlife. They reminded us of racehorses at a gate, so keen to get into the water and explore.
The seals proliferated the waters’ edge but there were also penguins dotted amongst the seals–see the tiny white figures on the rocky shore, in the distance.
The seals swam all around us, diving and watching.
On this particular ride I enjoyed the scenery as much as the animals.

point to ponder…

Even the shortest zodiac ride was about 1.5 to 2 hours–the longest about 3.5 to 4 hours. This includes walks to and from the wildlife, frequent squatting to take photos, and bumpy rides on rough seas. Now imagine trying to stay hydrated when you are doing two (or three) of these excursions a day. And further, imagine there was ZERO opportunity to relieve one’s bladder on any of them. I think you get my point.

Okay babe, I get your point.

stay tuned…there’s more to come…

the Falklands…

04 Saturday Apr 2020

Posted by in Animals, nature, Travel

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

Thank goodness I take so many photos. They help bring me back to the more sensory experiences of the places we have been, especially when the places are as unusual as the Falkland Islands. A lot of the time I can actually remember how I composed the photo and how I was feeling when I took it. The first zodiac ride was not something I had been looking forward to. See anxiety: boats of all sizes as noted in the previous post.

Our ship is in the background and we are about to return from our first excursion on New Island, The Falklands.

Learning how to layer the gear for maximum effect, and remembering so much new information added to the zodiac learning curve. In order to not sweat profusely we had to put on everything but the jacket, life vest and boots, then walk from two floors up and halfway the length of the ship to the area closest to the marina, from where we launched, and finish getting dressed there. Our room key, which was also our identity card, was inserted into a ready-made, see-through pocket on the sleeve of our jacket. This was one of the hardest things to remember because we had to use it on its own much of the time in between excursions. God forbid you should walk all the way to the launching point, having forgotten your card in the stateroom! The card had a scanning code on it that they used to scan you off and back on board with each excursion—no one was left behind.

The gear was awkward and heavy, but very, very practical, and of course, attractive. The zodiacs held 10 of us per excursion, not including the crew member/naturalist at the helm. There was a very precise method of boarding the zodiac, which was different when boarding from the ship, because you were stepping down into the zodiac, rather than stepping up from the water’s edge. I was fine boarding from the ship’s marina, but for some reason the crew just didn’t quite grasp where my centre of gravity was–being very short on one end. I could never hoist myself, and the heavy, awkward gear, up onto the edge of the zodiac while wading in water and they always had to help me. It was not a pretty sight—think beached whale.

For most of us the first real awareness of the Falkland Islands was during the war in 1982. History recap: the war was because Argentina wanted to take over the running of the islands, but the 3,000 inhabitants wanted to continue under British rule. The Brits won. Our first three stops were not to the capital, Stanley, but to some of the other islands of the archipelago, the first being New Island. Given it was also our first excursion, it was fortunate the launch and landing to shore were both on calm waters.

Our first sighting of New Island, through the mists.

Wikipedia will tell you that the terrain in the Falklands is ‘rugged’. They do not lie. What isn’t rocky and steep is covered in Tussoc(k) grass, which provides a habitat for many smaller animals. The tussock was at least knee high and taller. It had been gently raining that afternoon so everything was wet, including the rocks and tussock. We landed in King George Bay and had to walk across the island to an area that held an Albatross community. The naturalists who were younger and fitter than us had indicated this was a relatively easy walk. Although, thinking back on it, the naturalist who said ‘easy’ did halt just a split second before saying it. Hmmm. We had to walk up hill before we got to the area with the albatrosses. It was not that easy for us, especially me. In fact, the rocks were slippery and the visibility beneath the heavy Tussock was not good and I fell. Fortunately it was a soft landing in terms of breaks or bruising but I can tell you I really felt the twisting and turning for several days afterward.

The Snowy/Wandering Albatrosses have enormous wing spans of 5-6 feet and their chicks take about a year to mature so are huge by the time they leave the nest. In fact they often weigh more than the parents as they have been fed well and are just sitting all the time. Hmmm, note to self… This was a special time of the year to view the nearly mature chicks and in a place that the Naturalists don’t always get to visit. We had arrived early to the Falklands and so were able to take this unplanned excursion on New Island late in the afternoon of arrival.

Those of you who follow my photography @amosthemagicdog on Instagram will know that one of my favourite subjects are the plants, flowers and textures wherever we travel, and especially here at home. So after seeing the albatrosses I was keen to photograph some of the unusual flora on the way back to the zodiac. You have to believe me when I tell you I slept well that night. Dead tired.

I haven’t really highlighted two important facts on the nature of this cruise. It was both a repositioning cruise, and an expedition cruise. The ‘repositioning’ part refers to the start and finish of the trip, beginning in one port (Argentina) and ending in a completely different place, in our case, South Africa. The ‘expedition’ part of the cruise refers to the need for flexibility given weather conditions and wildlife sightings. The weather had deteriorated overnight and so instead of the planned trip further north in the Falklands, the ship repositioned itself in the night to a more sheltered area near Barren Island, and was ready for a fresh excursion the next morning. It was terribly exciting…the first penguins of the trip! Before each excursion the naturalists would talk to us about what we could expect to see at that landing. There was so much information coming into our brains, it was no wonder we were sleeping well.

Gentoo Penguins of New Island. And a cormorant wondering what the fuss was about.
Albatross nests are not actually soft and fluffy, they are hard sort of platforms made of mud and bits and pieces. It takes the albatross years to make one, but they have plenty of time, given they can live to 40 years or more. This albatross walked right up to these photographers, normally we were told to stay back from the wildlife.
This is possibly my favourite photo from The Falklands…except for the above ones of the penguins. It shows the grasses and terrain and the two native Upland Geese. The male is the white one, the female a russet and brown to blend in with surroundings while she sits on the nest. Isn’t Nature smart?

The objects of our second excursion were Gentoo and Magellenic penguins, Sea Lions, cormorants and other bird life on Barren Island. If you look at the photos and see not much vegetation, you will understand the name. Though, be assured, there was ample life around! The penguins were just adorable and seemed not the least bit afraid of us. We were instructed to keep a five metre (15 feet) distance from them and so it did make photos with an iPhone challenging as these penguins are fairly small. This is where my affinity for photographing animals and their environments helps me. I think close ups of animal faces are wonderful, but they don’t tell you much about the surroundings the animals live in, so I’m actually very happy to get reasonably close to the animals but also able to position them in their surroundings.

The sea lions were the exception to my theory of photography as they were quite dangerous to get anywhere near, so my photos were not great. They were enormous (males between 700-800lbs), growling and aggressive at times, so that you knew standing well back was the best decision, photos or not. That is the large male at the left and his harem of females to the right.

There were remnants of whale bones scattered on the landscape, some nearly as large as my torso. Sadly, there were also remains of baby penguins that did not live to maturity. There were lichens and layers of sea life everywhere. It was all beautiful.

The next morning’s excursion was to Bleaker Island. The weather deteriorated, so rather than a second excursion (thanks to the gods) the Captain moved the ship to the calmer waters of East Falkland Island, near the capital of Stanley. On Bleaker Island we saw more penguins, different to the previous ones. These were called Rock Hopper Penguins. They were so hilarious looking—kind of a mixture of uber-cool and pissed off! Picture the penguins Robin Williams voiced in Happy Feet (Ramon and Lovelace) and you will know what I mean. Nearly all of the penguins we saw were moulting, which is why they were on land and not in the water. While they are moulting they are vulnerable to the cold and wet, so for a few weeks of the year they stand in large communities dropping feathers while the new ones grow in…and they are starving. They can’t fish so they can’t eat. This was another reason we had to respect some distance and not make them feel threatened.

You can see the pieces of hail-we just stood with our backs to the wind until it was over.
You see? These rock hopper penguins had the right idea too.

Our first little while on Bleaker Island was a very rude shock. The weather was cold and the headwind was nearing gale force gusts. And then it sleeted. And then it hailed. And then we all turned our backs to the weather like penguins, until it passed. Again, Bleaker was an apt name. We then trudged along on the uneven ground that was thick with long grasses. In hind sight, this was the most difficult excursion of all, but at the time we weren’t sure they all wouldn’t be like this!

  • The hillside may still contain land mines, the penguins are scattered through it and also huddled down below in a group.
Once again, this area could contain land mines, so we were not walking through it but staying on the path.

The following morning we were moored near Stanley and the ship’s Cruise Director, Capucine, announced they had put together a land excursion for us to take across the bay via bus, to see more rock hopper penguins as well as the rugged terrain. The shock for us was that they are still scouring the area for landmines, planted in the 1982 war. We were not to venture from the well designated path.

After the bus excursion we were allowed to roam around Stanley to get a feeling for the place. It was somewhat like an idyllic English village and we could see why the locals would have wanted it to remain as it is. The archway in front of the church is made from whale bones! (And just by the way, as of 2 April, they still have no COVID-19!) There have to be some rewards for living in one of the remotest parts of the world.

Farewell Stanley, bring on the Southern Ocean again.

get ready for penguins…

Buenos Aires to Ushuaia…

02 Thursday Apr 2020

Posted by in Travel

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

Air New Zealand in Auckland

I ‘m very keen for you to see some of the most special parts of our trip. But like us, you will have to endure the ‘getting there’ stages first. The actual flights to Buenos Aires were good. However, upon landing we learned that an unexpected strike of baggage handlers had been called for that very afternoon. All of my anxiety was at attention and getting ready to say ‘I told you so’. The airport handled things pretty well, sending out workers with room temperature soft drink, ick, and little snacks of some kind of sweet Argentinian sandwich biscuit. There were two flight-loads of us waiting, so hundreds of people, gathered in a space with three luggage belts.

And one bathroom.

Not wanting to make people feel more uncomfortable in an already uncomfortable situation, I shot this purposely as a silhouette and thought the patterns were interesting, but it doesn’t really show the hundreds of us packed into the area.

To their credit, there was toilet paper, and soap to wash hands, but only two of the three stalls in the Ladies’ toilet were working. Typical. (remember, COVID-19 was not reported in Argentina until March 3, this was 21 Feb) We had been among the first to disembark and get through immigration so, incredibly, there were a few seats left. We grabbed them and settled in for what could have been a long wait, or worse, no luggage appearing at all. After two hours outside workers came in to perform the duties of those on strike. We finally spotted our bags among those making their way along the conveyor belt. By this time, our booked and paid for transfer ride had left the scene. We had been warned they would only wait for an hour in case our flight was delayed, but no one mentioned baggage handlers striking. We wandered around trying to find how to get in touch with them, because by now it was out of hours, after 5pm on a Friday. A couple of workers tried to help us but to no avail until one young woman pointed us toward the window of a transfer service. We thought we would just ‘eat’ the already paid for service and get a new one. As we walked up to the window, there on a piece of paper stuck to the glass with tape, was our surname! Excitedly I said to Don, ‘Look, look, that’s us!’ When a young woman approached us at the window I pointed to the sign and then to us saying ‘That’s us’! She smiled and said she would contact the driver who would come around in fifteen minutes or so. As we would discover, the ‘or so’ was the local way of doing things. But in about half an hour we were on our way to the hotel.

Arriving at what was now deeply dusk, we decided we really didn’t have the energy to go looking for food and weren’t particularly hungry, so we skipped dinner and went straight to bed. Happily, the Magnolia Hotel was everything it had sounded like when I found it on booking.com. The boutique hotel was owned and run by Maria for the last 12 years. Maria and her husband had lived in Miami for years and so she spoke perfect English. She had bought the house with a clear idea of the type of hotel she wanted to run. ‘Like everything,’ she said ‘it has been much harder than I ever imagined’. The rooms were furnished with a few pieces of tasteful, vintage furniture, and large comfortable bed, good air conditioning and a clean bathroom. There was no TV, only Netflix, but we weren’t there to watch TV, and with good WIFI we were able to access email and news.

The breakfasts were delicious with two kinds of croissants, the light and crispy French style and the other, a slightly more dense version with a thin glaze of icing. They were my favourite. Fresh butter, marmalade and Dulce de Leche (caramelised sweetened condensed milk) and a rich, yogurt type of accompaniment, were available each morning, as were an array of fruit, cheese and eggs to your liking. The little courtyard accessible from the breakfast area was calm and restful, and one morning there was even a local bird in it, perched and quietly watching.

Until this trip, I had gone for three years without eating anything but the smallest scrap of wheat and most of the time no grains at all. I also could not seem to digest fruit. Onion and garlic were off the menu as well. As you can imagine this made traveling very challenging. However, having not challenged the status quo in a while, I was determined to do my best to enjoy the local cuisine. I dived into the deep end and ate one of the pastries…and fruit. As the days went by I repeated my sins, only to discover I was experiencing NO ill effects whatever. I could scarcely believe it.

After a night’s sleep we did some research and to our dismay, discovered we had landed in Buenos Aires on the long weekend before Carnival. Time to implement Plan B. These are the things that can really mess with your travel plans, not that we had much choice. Our charter flight to board the ship left on the Carnival holiday, Tuesday, and we had come a few days early to try and recover from jet lag. So, you get what you get sometimes. And it was all fine, though more crowded than it might normally have been, due to many locals being off work and out to see the sights and attend celebrations.

To be honest, Buenos Aires was a little underwhelming. We made the most of it and walked many miles and rode the ‘hop on-hop off’ bus to various sites. But the city is sprawling, and kind of tired looking. That being said, we had some delicious food, and saw some things we had never seen, like the most amazing cemetery called Recoleta—where Eva Perone is laid to rest. Don’t you love a good cemetery?? We also achieved our goal of getting some rest before boarding the cruise. And the bonus for me was staying in the Magnolia Hotel, probably my all time favourite hotel ever, certainly in my top five. We attended the oldest market in BA, and I even chatted (LOL) with José the busker, who only spoke Spanish. Through my ancient knowledge of Italian I gathered he wrote his own music, was also a poet, and was from Santiago, Chile. And he was a charmer.

  • recoleta-buenosaires
    Inside one of the tombs
  • Row of tombs at Recoleta
  • The Hosier Lane of BA
  • Botanic Gardens
  • Crowded market!
  • José the busker from Santiago
  • An institution in Buenos Aires.
  • Busking dancers at Markets near Recoleta

And that chocolate cream cake…Yes. Absolutely.

We had a brief trip to the zoo that was heavily under construction, in transition to an Eco Park but no one seemed sure what that was. We also spent a couple of hours at the botanic gardens, always a favourite shady place for us, especially when the days are hot and humid as they were in BA.

On Tuesday we had an early transfer at 6.30am from the Magnolia Hotel to the airport. Again the casual local habits threatened to derail us when our booked transfer didn’t appear. The lovely breakfast lady/server/receptionist at the Magnolia apologised and persevered until she got us the desired result. We were very ready to move into the next phase of our journey.

For as long as I can remember Tierra Del Fuego has been one of the most exotic names and places I can recall. Even saying it is music to my lips. I remember my year 7 geography teacher mentioning it, and little else about it, but the name stayed in my psyche all these years.

Once aboard our charter flight from BA to Ushuaia, the capital of Tierra Del Fuego, we felt we could relax and let Ponant take care of us in luxury, as promised in its corporate description. The flight was two hours and as soon as we landed we were whisked onto buses and off for an afternoon tour through Tierra Del Fuego National Park and finally to the docks in Ushuaia where our home away from home, Le Lyrial was moored. We were served a very nice grilled/barbecued lunch in the Argentinian style while in the National Park. Sorry, no photo—picture beautifully charred meat, poultry and veggies piled on a huge serving dish with plenty of chips (french fries) for everyone. And bread. And butter. And for the first of many times over the next three weeks, dessert.

Tierra Del Fuego National Park actually has very few accessible areas, preserved mostly in its natural state. It is a subantarctic forest with glaciers and
We made our first acquaintances from the cruise when a couple of young men offered to take a photo of us after I had taken one of them.

Our bags had already been transferred to our stateroom aboard Le Lyrial. Already we were in the lap of luxury. We were greeted by the Captain and a couple of the crew, who we would soon get to know and think of as advisors and protectors. Every one of our crew was not only friendly but very funny. I suppose partly it was their job, but I have always found, with the only exception being a very cranky shopkeeper in Paris, the French to be accomodating and helpful if you approach them with respect and just the tiniest smattering of their language.

Unknown person, standing conveniently where I wanted him, looking out at Beagle Channel, Tierra Del Fuego

It is always a bit painful when starting a cruise, whether it be ocean or river. It is mandatory to attend the safety demonstration, try on your life vest and listen to the sounds of ‘abandon ship, abandon ship’, which you hope never to hear again. After the huge day of flying, bussing and vesting, we were served the first of many delicious meals with 122 others who would travel with us for the next 22 days. It was a lot to take in. Fortunately, the next day was ‘at sea’ and we could settle in as we made our way to our first destination, the Falkland Islands.

Goodbye Ushuaia, End of the World…hello Southern Ocean

there’s more to come…

what happens…

31 Tuesday Mar 2020

Posted by in humour, Travel

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

, ,

Have you ever followed a special feeling or intuition that you couldn’t really explain? I’ve been doing it most of my life. In the early stages I wasn’t aware of it, but by my third decade I was beginning to get the drift. Some people call them ‘hunches’ or the ‘small voice’ inside. I’m not really sure what it is, but it is wise in ways that I would not claim to be, and yet, somehow it comes out of me. The next few posts will be the story resulting from one of those very strong intuitive feelings.

We have just completed a trip I would never have dreamed for myself. Not because I couldn’t dream that big, but because I couldn’t imagine putting myself through the potential physical punishment. Most of my conscious choices in life have been mental challenges. Trying to understand who I am and those who are close to me learning skills and such. Physical challenges have just been there all my life, as with many people. When I was about a year old a wave unexpectedly washed me out of my Dad’s hands into the sea.  Spoiler alert, he found me. When I was five I developed Rheumatic fever, and again at nine, and on and on. Every few years I’ve had a new physical challenge to work through. So I never felt the need to prove myself under physical duress in other ways.

Only home three days from another big trip, our travel agent told me about a trip to cruise from Tierra Del Fuego in Argentina, to the Falkland Islands (Islas Malvinas), South Georgia Island and Tristan Da Cunha and to finish in South Africa. I became quietly obsessed. Logically, there was almost nothing about this trip that should appeal to me. I don’t really like cruising because, well…people…too many and too close at hand. Also, travel is always a challenge, because of my food sensitivities. And then there is sea sickness. I told my husband on the last miserable boat ride we had, not to bother asking me to go on another boat. Ever. He didn’t ask me this time, it was kind of my idea. What was I thinking?

That’s the thing. I wasn’t thinking, I was feeling. It was an intuitive knowing that for reasons I didn’t understand, I needed to make this journey. If every potential thing had gone wrong on this trip it would be the trip from hell. Another spoiler alert, it didn’t. This made it the trip of a lifetime. Actually, either way it would have been the trip of a lifetime, but, well, you know… The real reason I decided it was a good idea was because I’ve learned that big challenges yield big memories. Whether they are memories of hellish challenges, or memories of penguins, sea scapes and new worlds, we took the chance it would all be worthwhile.

COVID-19 was the one thing we had not counted on.

We booked the trip 10 months before embarkation. That’s a long time to anticipate, plan…and worry. Enter coronavirus—just to ramp up the anxiety a bit. A few weeks before our departure on Feb 20, we were both checking the news regularly. At that point the virus was mainly in China. There was none yet in Africa, at least none that was reported, and the same for South America. Since our trip mostly focused on a small passenger luxury cruise with Ponant to islands of the Southern Ocean, where there was also no virus, we felt we were safe enough to go. Just a day or so before leaving Australia we received communication from Ponant that if we had traveled to China, Italy or Iran, we would not be allowed to board the ship. True to their word, before boarding, Ponant representatives had a look at us and checked our passports, as well as had us sign wavers that we had not traveled in those places. And thus, we entered our bubble of safety.

However, I was definitely having ‘buyers remorse’ for two weeks (at least) before the trip. The Southern Ocean is notorious for the roughest seas in the world: refer to paragraph 3 re: seasickness. I had two seasickness meds with us, and bought a third thing I’d heard about, at the airport as we were leaving…sea-bands. They are elastic bands with a small plastic dot that when worn activate pressure points on both wrists that help control nausea. I have no idea if any of them worked because I never needed them. I hasten to add this was not because the seas were smooth, they were very rough at times. But I am now wise in the ways of ‘stabilisers’–in particular, fin-style stabilisers, on ships. If we do a cruise again, my first question to the sales agent will be ‘what kind of stabilisers do they have?’ Glory be. What a boon to the motion sick traveler. As the seas slapped us around the stabilisers kept the ship from doing the deadly corkscrew motion and I was saved. I hasten to add, there were a number of people, one crewman even, who wore the seasickness patches behind their ear. They didn’t seem to be bothered by the motion either, but I never got around to asking them whether the patches were precautionary or necessary. Seasickness was my most pressing worry. It could have spoiled the entire experience.

image of Ponant Cruises ship Le Lyrial
Our blessedly stabilised ship carrying 124 passengers, 157 crew, and no penguins,
who were sorely disappointed.

Also I had anxiety about what clothing to pack. Never having been on a zodiac excursion in my life, I did some extensive research online a few months prior and eventually chased down the required clothing. Said clothing were: wool socks, tops and leggings, beanie and neck gator; waterproof outer pants and waterproof gloves and shoes. The cruise was a National Geographic Expedition cruise and they partnered with Ponant providing very warm waterproof jackets and knee high boots (aka: wellingtons). We got to keep the jacket, which, despite best efforts at minimal packing, we then had to ease into already full suitcases (one each) to come home. Thankfully Ponant kept the boots so no further stuffing of cases was required. Would my research prove adequate, would the items procured be fit for purpose?…more anxiety.

Aren’t we fetching? We may not look glamorous but we certainly were warm!
Captain Patrick Marchesseau and yours truly–not glamorous, just not inappropriate either!

And then there was the side fact that this was a luxury cruise with a French crew and lots of French passengers, ie: French women passengers who might be intimidatingly stylish . What’s a 66 year old from the bush to wear? I was so anxious I tried on every single thing that I was thinking of taking, and photographed myself wearing it so I could analyse the images. Roll your eyes now. Anal, you say? Well, it worked. I’m happy to report I never looked inappropriate and at the end of the cruise a handsome Frenchman told Don and I we were one of the most glamorous couples in the photos taken on board the night of the Captain’s dinner. You can judge for yourself. But I also note, that on the flight from Adelaide to New Zealand for our departure to South America, a middle aged woman ran to catch up with me as we were deplaning and said ‘I just love your ‘look’ and wanted to tell you!’ I was not wearing the same outfit we wore to the Captain’s dinner either. Such a boon to anyone who tries their best. I always try to pay it forward, even to strangers when I see something I admire. I had only recently realised for myself that the changes I had been making to my hair, makeup and wardrobe were so that I would look the same on the outside as I feel on the inside…grey hair and sagging body parts aside.

And there were other things, the normal things, to be anxious about. Lost luggage, late flights, dietary needs, fitness level, sickness—over and above the obvious COVID-19 issue. And the ever important question of whether or not my pants would fit after three weeks of French food. The closer the trip, the more anxious about all those things I became. I tried to tell myself what I always try to tell myself ‘the things we worry about are almost never the things that happen!’ And sure enough, I was right—er, well, my wiser self was right. But that’s easy looking back 6 or 8 weeks later, isn’t it? The one thing I didn’t worry about was the thing that happened.

to be continued…

(this series of posts of our recent travels and other non-important musings by moi (are you feeling the French vibe??) are designed to entertain those of you who may need a break from self-isolation and social distancing. I hope you enjoy it)