Rounding Cape Horn and into the "Furious Fifties"

By 0830 we are at anchor just off Cape Horn. Cape Horn is actually an island, Isla Hornos, part of the Tierra del Fuego Archipelago. It is the most southern island, not the eastern one at the end of the eastward curve of South America, which I'd always imagined to be Cape Horn (because it looks like a horn). That island is called Staten Island. We are definitely in the "furious fifties" here in the middle of the infamous west wind drift. The wind is steady at 15-20 mph, gusting to, perhaps, 35 mph.

After breakfast, the ship put its Zodiacs in the water and shuttled many of us ashore to a slippery kelp-covered black stone landing area. From there we made our way up a 200+ "flight" of broken-down wooden steps that are moss and mud covered and very slippery. At the top there is a small, decrepit house, meteorological station, lighthouse and some monuments to sailors who've lost their lives trying to cross Cape Horn. The family tending this facility, (father, mother and 10 yr.-old son plus a dog and a couple of cats) sell tee shirts and patches and painted rocks. Paul bought a shirt for Rosemarie who had, wisely, decided to pass up this excursion. It was raining and the wind blew even more strongly at the top. A most desolate place, Cape Horn.

We cruised west across the face of Cape Horn to the Pacific Ocean (so we could truly say we'd "rounded" the Cape... wrong-way, into the west wind). According to Matt Drennan, a naturalist and historian, very experienced in the Antarctic, old time sailing types would get a star tattooed to their temple each time they rounded the cape. Three such stars would get you a drink in any English dockside pub.

The staff showed us a video of the famous 107-day long Cape Horn rounding by the square-rigged ship, Peking, in the 1920s. The black&white video's amateurish, after-the fact, narration by Capt. Johnson (who made the voyage as a hand), detracted a bit from the story. The Peking is presently moored at New York's South Street Seaport and Capt. Johnson's book is available in their bookshop. He's a much better writer than narrator.

The ship then turned south on a course of 150 degrees and made 13 knots toward Antarctica. The prevailing west wind created a big beam sea on the starboard side that rolled the ship pretty well. Both the Captain and Pete Puleston estimated the seas at 12-15 ft. driven by a force 7 wind (35-40 mph). It became difficult to negotiate the open spaces and chairs not chained down tended to tip. Standing outside meant getting wet, either salt water washing up to an upper deck, or the frequent rain squall that would pass overhead.

Occasionally the period of the ship's roll and the rhythm of the rollers would get out of sync and a big booming blue sea would fetch smack up against the side banging against the dining room windows and sending wine glasses and water to the floor. Silverware tended to slide about wildly. Capt. Skog wet the tablecloth to try to increase the coefficient of friction at our dinner table, but to little avail. Silverware left on a plate would leap to the floor on the next roll. The plate, unattended, would soon follow. Rosemarie became expert in wedging things so they'd stay put. Conversation tended to such things as Shackleton's voyage and the possibility that a movie might be made about it.

Both Capt. Skog and Matt Drennan, calculated that at 4-days per voyage, (two days each way) and 70 voyages, they'd each accumulated 10 months of their lives in the Drake passage. It is an impressive piece of ocean.

The ship rolled the night through which made moving about a challenge. Since our cabin is on the port side and the beam sea is striking her to starboard, we tend to lean further to the outside. This means we're being stood on our heads in our bunks. To compensate, Paul reversed direction in bed so his head was toward the center of the ship and his feet to the outside. Thus he could "stand" against the headboard when the ship took a severe roll. Our cabin steward, Cora, came and fastened down our chair with some bungee cord. The chairs in the dining room are chained to prevent tipping. Those in the lounge are not, and do tip.

1030 Saturday, 16 January 1999

Position: S60°02; W62°27". Course 125 degrees, temperature 39 F.

After breakfast we heard a lecture by Stefan Lundgren about three species of Penguin: Adelie, Chinstrap and Gentoo. We will see large numbers of all three.

Later in the morning, Matt Drennan delivered the obligatory lecture about the Antarctic treaty and what limits it places on our activities. It is strict about disturbing the native wildlife in reaction to the vast hunting of the great whales and penguins for their oil during the first part of this century. He told us that we would be allowed to visit the Palmer Station. (The only Special Ex trip, of the five this season, to be allowed to do this.)

By 1600, the seas had moderated a bit and Paul got a good GPS fix which placed us S60°41" and W60°38" on a heading of 125 deg. The temperature is now 38 F. From the notations at the nav station, the ship will shortly alter course to go to the east of King George Island. Their aiming point is: S61°50"; W57°20". We've passed the Antarctic Convergence, that ring around the continent where the water temperature changes sharply and the krill concentrate.

At this latitude and date, the GPS almanac reports that sunrise is 0408 and sunset is 2216. In other words the sun goes down at a quarter past 10PM and rises again just after 4AM.

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