Southbound

Where the roads end and the ice begins
Dramatic landscapes and humbling experiences.

In the middle of the night, as our ship pitched and rolled in the Southern Atlantic Ocean, I lay awake, confident in the captain’s ability – but also considering two unappealing scenarios: that the ship couldn’t roll much farther without us being tossed from bed, and if the ship capsized, what I would do to protect my wife.

The nighttime sea equivalent of a roller-coaster ride was one of numerous interesting moments on our six-week cruise, from January 26 to March 5, from the east to west coasts of South America. The itinerary included four countries – Brazil, Uruguay, Argentina, and Chile – with additional visits to the Falkland Islands and Antarctica. 

My wife, Marcia, and I have one indulgence: traveling. Seeing new things and places has been a goal since 5th grade, when I read a book called, Richard Halliburton’s Complete Book of Marvels. Halliburton, a Tennessean, traveled the world, writing about fascinating places. The travel bug bit even harder early in our marriage when I was in the Army and we lived for three years near Heidelberg, Germany. 

We chose a South American and Antarctica trip because we’d never been to that part of the world. It’s estimated that only 0.0015% of the world’s population has seen Antarctica, making it a privilege to set eyes on the White Continent. 

The adventure began in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, our cruise departure point. There we visited a Halliburton marvel, the 98-foot-tall Christ the Redeemer statue, with 92-foot outstretched arms, overlooking the city from Corcovado Mountain’s summit. The statue has become a symbol of both Rio and Brazil. Bathed in sunlight the first day, it was shrouded by fog on the second, when we took a cable car up the mountain, then an elevator, then stairs, to the 2,330 summit and the statue. Happily, the fog lifted while we looked up at the statue. 

In Rio, we boarded Oceania Cruise Lines MS Marina, a 1,200-passenger ship. We like Oceania because there are no go-cart tracks, rock-climbing walls, or twisty waterslides. It’s quieter. Cruises are great because you unpack only once, and the hotel moves. Our itinerary took us from Rio to Ushuaia, Argentina, at the southern tip of the South American continent, then back north to Buenos Aires, Argentina. From there, the Falkland Islands were next, followed by sailing across the infamous Drake Passage to Antarctica, then north again to traverse the Chilean fjords, ending in Santiago, Chile. 

The world’s largest Magellenic penguin colony is at Punta Tombo, Argentina. Penguins are typically thought to inhabit snow and ice-covered landscapes. But not Magellenic penguins: about 400,000 penguins arrive in this dry, and sparsely vegetated place during breeding season to make new penguins. Their burrows extend in all directions as far as you can see. Penguins waddle back and forth between their burrows and the ocean, where they go to feed and to bring back fish for their chicks. When a penguin communicates with other penguins, one call sounds like a loud donkey braying, which seems odd coming from a penguin that fully grown is 30 inches tall and weighs less than 15 pounds. 

A stop in Montevideo, Uruguay, revealed that there’s a conflict between Uruguay and Argentina over the tango, and where the dance originated. It’s a big deal in these parts. Both countries claim it started in the lower-class sections of their major cities, Buenos Aires and Montevideo. No ship’s excursion seems to occur without a tango demonstration, which we saw at a winery outside Montevideo. My wife got a quick lesson from one of the dancers; I remained seated, not having danced since a 7th grade sock-hop.

We sailed southward to Ushuaia, Argentina, called “the world’s southernmost city.” It sits almost at the tip of the South American continent. There are two interesting monuments in the town’s center: one is busts of the late Argentine President Juan Peron and his wife, Isabel, (made contemporarily famous by the musical, Evita), and a memorial to Argentine troops that during 1982 invaded and raised the nation’s flag over the Falkland Islands British Overseas Territory. The British military took it down several months later. 

While in Ushuaia, a boat took us five miles down the Beagle Channel, named for the HMS Beagle, which on a voyage of discovery carried Charles Darwin through this waterway. Our objective was a small island with two items of interest: the “world’s southernmost lighthouse,” as Argentina calls it, and male and female sea lions. The males were huge, up to nearly 10 feet long and 800 pounds; females are about three feet shorter and weigh less than half as much. The males lounged on the island surrounded by their harems. As it was at mating season’s end, males weren’t beating each other bloody to claim females. 

We returned to Buenos Aires, and toured the city, visiting the La Boca neighborhood. The Argentine Tango is said to have been born here. Many of La Boca’s buildings are multi-colored, and there’s a festive air to the place – no doubt aided by tourists in the shops and cafes. Another, seemingly required, Buenos Aires stop is Evita Peron’s tomb, where people still leave flowers and push money offerings (usually 100-peso notes, less than 10 cents) into the tomb’s grating. 

We next sailed to Port Stanley, on East Falkland Island. The Falklands are about 300 miles east of southern Argentina. Port Stanley, population 2,500, looks like a small English town. The island itself is windswept and barren. You wonder how people survive here. Sheep farming, commercial fishing, and tourism are key economic drivers. We drove to see king penguins – the world’s largest penguins after emperor penguins, and watched parents feed their checks. 

Then, Antarctica, after crossing the Drake Passage. It’s estimated that some 800 ships have sunk in the Drake, with 20,000 lives lost. The Drake is known for its high seas and turbulent weather. Fortunately, our crossing was uneventful apart from experiencing the “Drake shake” in the 20-foot seas. People staggered as they walked about the ship, looking as if they’d had one too many. 

Entering Antarctic waters, we saw mammoth icebergs, and whales alongside the ship making their way south. Farther south, the view of the Antarctic Peninsula and mainland validated what early 20th century explorer Roald Amundsen said: “The land looks like a fairy tale.” There were mountains covered with snow and ice, massive glaciers that flowed down steep slopes to the waterline, and icebergs everywhere through which the ship steered. An Antarctic guide on the bridge said we were fortunate to have such mild weather, temperatures around 30 (it was the Antarctic summer) and no wind or rain. 

Next to the ship, penguins and fur seals “porpoised,” shooting out of the water and submerging. “You need to come here!” I called to my wife, “Whales are everywhere!” Humpbacks and fin whales swam past, one humpback on its side, then on its back, holding fins aloft. Further on, a place called Deception Island is so named because from a distance it looks like an island. However, it’s the caldera of an immense, active volcano. Chinstrap penguins lined its slopes; elephant seals lounged on the beach. 

After several days in this wonderland, the captain announced that we were departing for Chile to beat a storm threatening the Drake. Once back in South America, we sailed north in the beautiful Chilean fjords: the highpoint was an excursion up the Iceberg River to the San Rafael Glacier; icebergs “calving,” or falling away, from the glacier flowed past us, some with a deep-blue color indicating ice thousands of years old. 

For me, the highlight of a highlight-filled experience was one evening when a humpback whale submerged and I followed with my camera what I thought would be its track. I tried to guess where it would surface. Then, the unexpected: the whale breached, coming halfway out of the water, and landing on its back with an enormous splash. And I got the photos. That’s how I’d describe our experience: something unexpected, surprising, beautiful, and a reminder that I’m small, but God’s world is very big   .