Antarctica

The “seventh continent” is not on the typical backpacker route, but Ushuaia, Argentina is on the route, and boats to Antarctica depart from Ushuaia, so in early February I boarded one such boat. (An aside: in the blog, “backpacker” means long-term traveler, aptly named for our large backpacks. I realize it’s defined differently in the U.S.)

My ride to Antartica was the MV Ushuaia, an 80 passenger former research vessel, which I’d selected after nearly joining a month long expedition on a 9 passenger sailboat. Once I came to my senses on the sail (it was never a good idea), the MV Ushuaia was the next best thing: the smallest of the more commercial options. For sense of scale, here’s a photo of the MV Ushuaia (left) next to National Geographic’s ship:

And another photo of the MV Ushuaia (lower left) amongst the larger cruise ships:

And a closer shot from Antarctica:

Prior to boarding the MV Ushuaia I had been surrounded by backpackers in my age bracket, but the demographic on board was drastically different. The typical Antarctica traveler skews older, since the trip is both costly and time consuming. When I had first arrived to port, it seemed as though I’d actually be the only backpacker on board, until I spotted one other Osprey backpack from afar. These are typically the first sign of a long-term traveler, and it was a beautiful sight.

I’d soon learn that the owner of this bag, Lucy, was my roommate. Lucy lives in London and works in finance as well, but is amidst a four month travel sabbatical. Our fellow passengers assumed that we were friends traveling together (some even thought sisters), and were surprised to learn that we were actually just randomly assigned roommates on the MV Ushuaia.

Antarctica attracts not only an older crowd, but also a particularly eccentric one. A few examples:

• A German amidst his fifth voyage on the MV Ushuaia, three of which were consecutive voyages this year. In other words, he lived on the boat for a month, headed to and from Antarctica three times. He’s booked for next year as well.

• A Polish group brought their own translator aboard, and even in the roughest of seas, he’d initiate late night drinking and dancing in the ship’s lounge area. The Polish translator also wore a cashmere sweater to our landings, while the rest of us wore down parkas.

• Two Russians who strongly believed that Asia and Europe were Eurasia, for a total of six continents, and not seven. Any mention of a seventh continent (which happens all too often on a boat to Antarctica) sparked immediate debate if the Russians were around.

• A grandmother from New Zealand who will be riding a Vespa scooter from Western Africa to Cape Town this summer.

The trip was unique for many other reasons too, including the fact that nearly every passenger was objectively miserable for half the voyage. We spent about four days on the actual continent, and about four total days crossing to and from the continent via the Drake Passage, which is notorious for extremely rough seas.

Our first obligation onboard was a mandatory lecture on the Drake Passage, or as the staff put it, a lecture on “how to live in a rolling house.” The lecture included both practical instruction on how to move about (it was really quite difficult to walk), and a set of rules, like that there was to be no showering. A passenger had once attempted a shower amidst the Drake, resulting in an aborted crossing for the entire ship in lieu of an emergency evacuation for this passenger, who had fallen and broken their ribs. Our crossings were less dramatic than this, but yet I practically spent half the voyage in bed. I wasn’t sea sick (although much of the ship was), but bed was the most comfortable place amidst 30 foot waves.

It’s difficult to convey the insanity of the Drake Passage in a video, since the camera rolls along with the ship, but this clip of our jackets swaying is the best I could do. Note the large bars on the beds to prevent a fall:

For sea sickness prevention, the onboard doctor distributed pills that most passengers (myself included) took religiously, despite not knowing what exactly they were. Here’s a photo from this ritual:

I did have one bout of sea sickness, when I got bored in bed and tried to play chess amidst the Drake Passage. This was not a good idea. I got sick, and I lost. My chess partner was a French guy whose both a hypnotist and dating coach in Paris. He wound up on the boat when his father decided not to come, and became a good friend of Lucy and mine.

Once across the Drake Passage, we spent four days landing on Antarctica twice a day via smaller, motorized “zodiac” boats:

Antarctica was spectacular and like nothing I’d ever seen before. Some photos:

We saw whales (which I somehow failed to photograph), penguins, and seals:

After ten days on the MV Ushuaia we disembarked and I flew North to Buenos Aires with my chess partner (the French guy), who will be in town a few days before heading back to Paris. I suffered my sixth chess defeat on this flight:

Upon landing in Buenos Aires, we reconvened with Lucy who flew a day prior:

My Austrian friends, who I traveled through Patagonia with, will be in town next week as well. They have an apartment in Buenos Aires, but are in Rio for Carnival, so I have their apartment to myself.

I’ve been traveling for two months, and until now, had a loosely planned itinerary. The Antarctica trip was booked in advance, so I had no choice but to head South to Ushuaia by a certain date. I now have no set plans beyond heading generally North towards Colombia. I’d like to spend a week or two studying Spanish in Buenos Aires first, so it may be a bit before I blog again, unless stories of hanging around a capital city are of interest. Thanks for following!