3/17/2016
Kevin’s Log – Supplemental – 5:59 AM
It’s been a rocky night, with nary an eye of the storm in sight. Rising up this morning, back on my feet, I took my time, not taking chances. Went the distance through the hallway and stairs, now I’m sitting in the mood lit library that demonstrates what can happen as the waves and winds pelt the ship.
Today’s daily newsletter posted around the ship listing the day’s activities is titled “The Drake Shake” and they ain’t kidding. It reminds me of this video I took when visiting Disneyland Paris demonstrating the ride mechanism in a Finding Nemo inspired indoor roller coaster. When I get back to DryLand™, I’ll see if I can’t dig it up and post it here.
PLEASE PARDON OUR APPEARANCE.
WE ARE CURRENTLY REFURBISHING THIS AREA FOR YOUR FUTURE ENJOYMENT.
PERHAPS ONE DAY THE FINDING NEMO RIDE VIDEO WILL APPEAR HERE.
Yesterday, the weather was so poor and the winds so strong that we had to abort the ship’s cruise through a lovely harbor for our final looks at the White Continent. Instead, we set course through the Drake Passage for Ushuaia earlier than expected, the Captain hoping to get us on our way and through the worst of the rough seas by 9 AM today. It’s currently 6:04 AM and we’re still bouncing and rolling in the 40 knot winds. I’m hoping the morning wakeup call at 8 AM will provide definitive measurements for this log. But the notation now in my log of 40 knot winds is based on the information they gave us last night at dinner and my own sea faring experience (once you’ve sailed to Antarctica through the Drake Passage I imagine you’re an expert sailor, right?).
Speaking of last night, because the ship cruise was cancelled they played a documentary/docudrama called Shackleton’s Captain that relayed the story of the Endurance’s successful failure from 1914-1916, as told through the eyes of Captain Worsley, the man skippering the Endurance and the man with the seafaring and navigation skills that proved invaluable in rescuing those stranded in ice for almost 2 years. It was a fascinating tale, one I knew the basic contours of for the beginning and end but little about the middle. I won’t recap the whole thing here but will note that that Sir Ernest Shackleton was one brand-savvy guy. As part of the contracts for joining his expedition crew, he took all life rights to life stories, journals, diaries, etc., and ensured that no matter who did what to get them to their destination or who ultimately saved the day, “the Boss” as he was called, got top billing and credit. So it’s always Shackleton, all the time.
Following the movie, there was a charity auction in the dining room. Raising funds for three or four worthwhile oceanic charities and research groups working for the protection and better understanding of Antarctica, the lots included everything from mile markers to One Ocean swag, to a personalized wake-up call. The big ticket items were the finish sign and the 2016 Antarctica Marathon banner, the latter complete with wind damage from that tough, tough day.
It was also a farewell toast to the Antarctica. Free champagne flowed for those who could stomach it. A lot of seats were empty, passengers seemingly holed up in their bunks, lying down, trying to will the ship to stop flouncing about. Of those in the dining room, many people waved off the bubbly due to the angry, rough seas buffeting the ship and us. Thomas, the OneOcean staffer, was walking around with a nearly full bottle of champagne, and said, “I can’t give it away. I’m using to seeing waves outside, not so much in here with people waving off the alcohol.”
I had three glasses. If you’re going to go, go big.
Avoiding clinking the glasses due to seafaring superstition, we fist-bumped toasted first to our friends and family, then to ourselves, and finally to the continent of Antarctica.
And then the auction was on. Paul was master of ceremonies while Christine served as self-described Vanna White showing the lots to passengers. I bid up to my max of $100, the amount I was willing to do for charity, on a couple of items. But I lost out each time, the electrifying and intoxicating spirit of an auction taking strong hold over this group of competitive overachievers (want to see some crazy things happen? Ask a bunch of crazed marathoners to bid on mile markers from one of their craziest marathons ever).
I was prepared to bid higher on the damaged banner, mainly because it was the most tangible proof of the experience on King George’s Island they had. I went as high as $200 on that, figuring that’s what Marathon Tours was asking for prepurchased mile marker sponsorships. Then the bid of $300 came in from Reed, the young 18-year-old who ran this as this first marathon ever and won it in a mind-blowing 3:18. Paul, doing a nice job of auctioneering, looked at me to see if I’d go higher. I said, perhaps a little too loudly for a charity auction, that Reed deserved to have that banner and I wasn’t about to bid against him. Meg told me later I shamed the crowd into not bidding higher; Reed’s mom thanked me for it after the final “going once… going twice… SOLD!” of the evening.
All told, the lots raised $3,250 for the charities. The prices were too rich for my blood. I mean, that’s 650 couches!
***
Dinner was a somber affair, those hardy enough to remain through the rocking and rolling seas, enjoying a medley of salad, rice, braised pork stew, and cauliflower gratin. Meg, like many others, were feeling the effects far moreso than on the way down. She was looking a bit pale, and while the girl next to her snacked on crackers, Meg was seemingly down to a small dollop of rice and a couple pieces of bread.
I was feeling the ship but still felt okay. I ate, thinking I might as well keep things going per normal as best I could, and anxiously awaited dessert. Meg begged off and headed to the cabin to lie down. I told her to take whichever of the L-shaped beds made the rocking better. And truth be told, the chocolate cake with honeycomb topping proved to be the least successful dessert yet, so Meg missed nothing by skipping.
I hung around until the 9 o’clock fireside chat in the bar, a series of wild bear tales from Liz, one of our kayak instructors, and a few other passengers. Most of them consisted of meeting a bear and both being just as terrified. Paul’s story of riding in a bike race with a bear shocked to meet him on the road led to a chase scene out of a keystone kops short – Paul peddling to get away and the bear racing to avoid this weird wheeled creature… except they both were fleeing in the same direction and at the same speed such that Paul could look over from his speeding bicycle and continue to make eye contact with the running bear. A fine, funny image to conclude the night on.
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Kevin’s Log – Supplemental – 6:31 AM
I’ve been up for a bit, sleeping lazily throughout the night. And I mean lazily in that there were times when I slept decently and yet I kept waking up. I found it easier than that one night coming down through the Drake Passage. This may be because I had better secured the cabin and items weren’t rolling to and fro and then into my face. I got up too early no doubt but I was done lying down.
Today’s schedule is replete with films and seminars on Antarctica’s past and present. I was debating about skipping them but honestly I can watch a movie on my iPad or read a few more chapters on my Kindle anytime. How often will I have the chance to see these discussions in the context of the places that are being discussed?
Somebody asked me yesterday if I was going to do the seven continents again. It’s funny that no matter what you do or where you are or what type of people you meet (and I’m guilty of this too), the natural question after “why did you do this crazy thing?” is “what are you going to do next?” There isn’t enough time to savor the moment and process the accomplishment because there’s always a new horizon, a new adventure awaiting. I guess that’s a better alternative to NOT having a new horizon or new adventure awaiting. But still, it can be a tough thing to answer in the midst of the afterglow… or the harshness of reality. My reply to such a question is the same as always, “I don’t know. Ask me again in a week or so. Right now, the answer would be “no” but things change.”
The future is not set. I’ve long known that but the ever changing weather of Antarctica certainly showed that what Is calm can be stormy, just as what is blustery and sickening can be dead calm in an instant.
Still, the necessities and annoyances of “real life” are creeping their way back into my head. Taxes, travel plans, obligations and the dreaded 2-weeks of missed email loom large. There’s still two days of seagoing, then almost three days of air travel before I get home. A lot can happen in that time.
Let’s see what happens.
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Kevin’s Log – Supplemental – 11:04 AM
Eight thousand dollars. That’s how much the Antarctica Marathon 2016 banner is rumored to have fetched at the Vavilov auction. Eight thousand dollars. I know it’s for charity but I can’t believe people have that much money to spend on a silly banner. I thought anything over $300 was a whole lot. Yowza.
I just got out of a seminar on Antarctica Tourism hosted by an expert in the field, Dr. Thomas Bauer. He’s one of the people who saved me by getting me into warm clothes after the marathon. He also poured me a second glass of champagne last night. Crewing a ship means wearing a lot of different hats.
It was a fascinating insight into what we have been a part of. The first modern person to set foot on Antarctica was in 1895. Since then, and I’ve mentioned this statistic before, approximately 600,000 people have followed in those footsteps. And now I’m one of them.
In the 1920s, Thomas Cooke apparently offered cruises to Antarctica, trying to capitalize on the heroic age of Scott, Amundsen, and especially Shackleton. He had not takers.
It was really only in the 1960s that the Antarctic tour template was cracked – Lars Eric Lindblad offered regular cruises and established the Lindblad model of tourism, one that’s been adopted for many a destination worldwide. Essentially, the tour package incorporates an educational component, with presentations, lectures, films, et cetera offering insights and understandings for travelers into just what they’re seeing and encountering. Rather than blindly wandering around (as I sheepishly admit I’ve done too many times on a trip), this edutainment tourism affords a richer experience for the traveler.
From the 1990s to today, Antarctic tourism has seen a major uptick. One slide broke down the stats thusly:
Since there is no sovereignty in Antarctica and it is governed by the Antarctic Treaty and Madrid Protocols, companies wishing to operate tours to Antarctica must first seek permission from their national government prior to the start of the season and must prove that their activities will have no more than a transitory impact on the sites they plan to visit. This environmental impact study and business plan must also strictly adhere to the maximum of 100 people onshore at any given moment. So while the Ioffe had 119 passengers that required occasionally shuffling 19 people back and forth on zodiacs to maintain the right numbers on land, the largest cruise ships would have a devil of a time coordinating the landing times to accommodate larger numbers of guests.
Apparently One Ocean has a 550 page impact study and supporting document as part of their application to the Canadian government (they’re a Canadian business that leases the converted Russian research vessels).
As part of the cruise, we are all well prepped for the expectations of the site visits – a lot is common sense, if you have any sort of respect for others and insight into the symbiotic nature of, well, nature. The key points are to be safe, respect the protected areas, respect the scientific research, and keep Antarctica pristine. The details are perhaps what really need to be conveyed – one should keep a minimal distance of 5 meters from wildlife (remember what we encounter IS wildlife and nature by definition is not controlled by others), albeit the animals aren’t obligated to adhere to this distance. Some, such as penguins, that continue to approach you are fine and you’re best to just make no sudden moves if you want a closer encounter. Just don’t grab the adorable little waddler and stick it in your carry-on.
Probably the most important overarching guideline then that could encompass everything one should do in Antarctica (and perhaps everywhere for that matter) is to be self-sufficient and leave nothing behind that could damage the environment. That’s the transitory impact concept that runs through anything and everything to do with tourism here on the White Continent. This ensures the future can enjoy visiting this place, not only humans but the wildlife itself. Preservation and protection should not be political in my opinion. It should just be. No one should want to destroy the balance in the world. Sure, sure, there are times when economics and necessity breeds consumption and development. But imagine how much better the world could be for everyone not just now but years from now if we strove to balance out what we take with what we leave. The zero sum game is the best way to ensure life continues to find a way long after we’ve come and gone, long after our children have come and gone, and long after their children. To me this just seems like common sense but what do I know? If the polar plunge taught me anything it’s that common sense sometimes gets drowned in freezing water, its sounds squashed by the inability to form words due to stupidity beyond all comprehension.
In the 25 years Thomas has been studying Antarctic tourism, and in the 21 years he’s been coming to the continent itself, he’s impressed with how well maintained and preserved the continent has been. While there have been track formations by season’s end due to visitors at the most accessible sights, the strong winds and fallen snow wipes out most if not all of it by the next season. And when one considers the whaling bones of Mickelsen Harbor, and the impact humanity has had in other areas, the care and dedication of not only the businesses but the individual tourists in responsible visits to this land is exemplary. Indeed, it may be that the continuum of conservation and preservation training and tourism could well serve as a model for other areas in the world, be it natural, cultural, or spiritual.
Knowledge, as has been long said, is power. And knowing what you’re seeing, understanding how things fit together in the larger scheme of things, appreciating the scale and significance of a place, a religious relic, or any cultural artifact of humanity, can only enhance our understanding of what it means to be human, of what it means to be alive, and ultimately perhaps what’s it all about.
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Kevin’s Log Supplemental – 5:49 PM
It’s been a long day at sea. The Drake Passage continues to shake and pummel our good ship, albeit the swells and pitch and yaw seem much less than before. I wouldn’t call it calm, but perhaps calming.
At the Antarctica Tourism seminar earlier in the day, Thomas was a little dismissive of the fly/cruise options people take by flying into King George’s Island and sailing from there, skipping the Drake Passage. He said that the crossing of the Drake is a rite of passage, and that you have to earn the right to see Antarctica. I want to believe that’s true but honestly at this stage if someone offered me a flight home that skipped these two days at sea, I would gladly have taken it.
This is in no way a diss on the activities or events onboard. I’ve had a wonderful experience, an educational, emotional, physically challenging adventure and I accomplished what I came here to do – run my marathon, see the white continent, live a little. But it’s time to get home and get back to reality. I’m desperate for a run, not on some crappy treadmill in the bowels of a ship, but on land. I’m desperate to do laundry, to sleep in my own bed, to check email and find out what’s happening in the world. I’m desperate to know if there even IS a world anymore. This is the longest I’ve been disconnected from ANY media information – even on my long transatlantic crossings, I had access to some internet or cable news television.
I’m pretty sure I earlier talked about Meg’s comment about herself being an extroverted introvert. I am the same. I’m good with people for a time, but when I’m done, I’m kinda done. This again is in no way a criticism of the other people on this ship – most are truly wonderful people and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed spending time with them and cruising amongst the ice. But I have reached my fill aboard this sailing vessel. Cabin fever is real, sea legs are rubbery, and it’s just time to get to dryland.
Like last call at your favorite watering hole, it’s been a grand night but it’s time to go.
I’m glad I went to the other seminars on offer today though. In addition to the well documented tourism one I mentioned earlier, Antje had a presentation on Saving Our Sea Birds that offered insight into efforts to save the Albatross and other migratory birds who can get caught up in pollution, long net fishing, and climate change. The Albatross in particular has such a long lifespan and takes so long to reach maturity that even with great strides in conservation over the past 20 years (to the point where 0 sea birds were caught in long net fishing around Antarctica in 2006), the population is still on the decline. It was a fairly balanced presentation of hope against some lingering doom and gloom. But how can anything be too depressing when someone says, “I was at the Bird Fair™ in England, the largest bird fair in the world…” I mean, of course the largest bird fair would be in England. And secondly, can you imagine the world’s largest bird fair? If Easter Bonnets are a thing, imagine the plumage on display at this thing! A subcultural mockumentary in the vein of Best in Show writes itself.
I skipped the movie Chasing Ice as I had already seen it. Instead I spent some time trying to gather my thoughts, sort some photos and get some semblance of final drafts ready to post when I return. Some entries in this log are good, some are terrible. All need to be proofread and corrected. How much I’ll actually do on that front is debatable… I’m hoping to get some of it done during my 16.5 hour layover in Sao Paolo, Brazil.
Carrying over from yesterday’s film on Shackleton’s Captain, Michelle today presented an overview of Shackleton the man and his Endurance expedition. Known to his men as “The Boss,” it was an interesting companion piece to see how history is skewed by the choices of focus. The one thing I should mention here is the classic help wanted advert for Shackleton’s attempt to cross the Antarctic continent, which I reprint here:
Five thousand people applied. Five thousand! Shackleton’s interview questions were legendary. They often consisted of just three questions: 1) Do you have all of your own teeth? 2) No varicose veins? 3) Can you sing? Basically he wanted men who were healthy, able to endure the cold, and could provide entertainment when they were stuck some place for a bit (very prescient given what happened and the 18 month layover!)
I should note that the guy who brought his own banjo was apparently hired on the spot. There’s a lesson there somewhere.
I won’t recap the arduous success in the face of this most epic of failures. But given Shackleton’s loyalty to his men, and the loyalty they showed him, it’s something that some of these same men signed up for another of his Antarctic expeditions in 1922.
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Kevin’s Log – Supplemental – 9:03 PM
It’s St. Patrick’s Day. And there’s some Irish folks on board. And the alcohol is flowing, green beer and all.
