Expat Vagabonds

Vagabonds Too

vagabonds — Mon, 31 Dec 2012 05:24:00 GMT

To paraphrase the Car Guys on National Pubic Radio, "Well, you've frittered away another year" following our exploits. World Nomads says we have exceeded our photo limit (Quelle surprise!) so we have had to create a new site; journals.worldnomads.com/vagabondstoo. We know it's not very creative but we hope you will continue to enjoy the stories and photos. And if you want to know how the adventure ends, go to journals.worldnomads.com/vagabonds3.

Happy New Year

Easter Island

vagabonds — Thu, 27 Dec 2012 05:05:00 GMT

Easter Island (Isla Pasqua in Spanish) is also known as Rapa Nui in the local language. It is the most remote inhabited island in the world, 2200 miles in the Pacific from mainland Chile and 2600 miles from Tahiti. Surprisingly, Rapa Nui is in the same time zone as New York. In fact, all of South America lies east of Miami. No kidding – look at a globe.

We joined forces with Niu, his wife Heung and kids Alan and Kevin, and rented a car to tour the island, rather than take one of the expensive tours. I drove the battered Chevy 4X4 pickup – Niu can’t drive a stick – while Alan and Kevin rode in the bed. Niu, an engineer, splits his time between Ohio and working in his native China. Heung is a math/science tutor in Canton. Kevin, 14, has caught the science bug and is hoping to study marine biology. Alan, a freshman at Purdue, wants a career in the Air Force and took to Connie right away. They are an interesting modern family and we hope to keep in touch with them for many years.

Explorer Thor Heyerdahl set out from Peru in his balsa raft to “prove” that the first Rapa Nuians came from South America. His successful voyage, recounted in Kon Tiki, put Easter Island on the map but new evidence favors adventurous sailors around 400 AD from the South Pacific islands. Today about 60,000 visitors fly in each year – no cruise ships on Easter Island – mainly to see the famous World Heritage “moais,” those iconic statues that look like aliens from another world. There are more than 800 moais scattered around the island, many still at the original quarry site where they were carved from the volcanic tufa, the oldest dating back to around 800. During the ensuing centuries most were upended by warring tribes or toppled by earthquakes and tsunamis. Today perhaps 50 statues have been re-erected in several locations, some wearing their “hats,” most facing west towards the setting equinox sun.

We were glad for the four-wheel drive once we got off the paved road. The rocky track along the cliffs is a great place to watch the power of the Pacific. Waves that had traveled thousands of miles crashed onto the volcanic rocks; spray showering fifty feet into the blue sky. Poor Alan and Kevin stuck it out in the back, sunburned and choking on the dust until a shower forced them to crowd into the cab. They got a chance to wash off at the white sand beach at Ahu Tau a Ure. We were planning to drive to some of the more remote places until I noticed a huge bubble on one of our tires. We all voted to return to Hanga Roa rather than risk a blowout on some remote dirt road.

Easter Island Christmas Present

vagabonds — Wed, 26 Dec 2012 05:00:00 GMT

Flying to Easter Island on Christmas Day is a bit – I don’t know – ironic? It also seemed strange that the flight took us first from Santiago to Lima but who’s to complain? It was the cheapest flight we could find and LAN gave us a free upgrade to Business Class for both segments. I could get used to the tasty food, good wine and comfy bed with a fluffy duvet. Merry Christmas to us!

The surly driver was a match for his wreck of a Toyota but who shines at 6:30 in the morning? Chez Joseph, formerly Hotel Rapa Nui, is a good deal at $130 a night in a place where most hotels cost from $300 to more than a grand. Ouch! Our room is large with a partial view of the Pacific. They let us move in right away and, despite the lux flight, we spent the morning napping and it wasn’t long before the hotel’s skinny gray cat took up residence on our bed.

It’s short work to explore the Hanga Roa. “Town” consists of a few paved roads lined with restaurants, car rental agencies, souvenir shops and tour operators. The few “supermarkets” are scantily stocked and very expensive. Dinners cost upwards of $25, Cokes and beers about $5. Only four supply ships visit Easter Island annually and most goods arrive by air but you can buy fresh fruit from the pick-up trucks parked on the main street.

Valparaiso

vagabonds — Sun, 23 Dec 2012 01:30:00 GMT

The 90-minute bus ride from Santiago showed us a gentler side of Chile. We haven't compared its wines to those of Argentina but the vineyards are more pleasing to the eye. The landscape looks very California. Small farmhouses with orange trees, olive groves and fields of corn sit between large vineyards and eucalyptus trees hang onto the eroded hillsides,

Sunday afternoon in Valparaiso is one great market. Vendors squat on every open space on the busy sidewalks, selling everything imaginable. Scraps, flyers and plastic bags blow among the pedestrians. Kids lined up for sweets and a visit to Papa Noel while around the corner a soup kitchen served a larger, less fortunate crowd. The air smells of dead fish and garbage from an alley. This is not how a WHS site should look.

The only remodeled building in the historic district

We can only hope that Valparaiso will grow into its World Heritage status. When a dozen strangers warn, "Cuidado con su camera!" there is probably a very good reason to hang on to it tightly. The historic section suffers from the seediness of the nearby port. Many of the buildings have the potential - the "bones" - to be charming but for a lack of TLC. A lot of tender loving care. And to think, we considered staying here instead of Santiago.

Photos: Chile

vagabonds — Sat, 22 Dec 2012 10:48:00 GMT

Santiago

vagabonds — Fri, 21 Dec 2012 03:52:00 GMT

Anconagua, South America's highest mountain, towered over the vineyards of Mendoza as our bus lumbered towards the mountains. Yeah, we thought we had sworn off bus trips, too, but this one is relatively short, only eight hours, including two hours to negotiate customs and immigration at 3000 meters (9300 feet for the metrically challenged). The problem with driving through the Andes is that you can't actually see the peaks. But on the downhill trip the newly painted yellow lines on the hairpin turns ahead twisted like so much linguine thrown on a table.

The twists and turns of traveling to Chile

When Lonely Planet promised that we would be pleasantly surprised by Santiago, it forgot about the sprawling suburbs. The Andes floated ghostly in the afternoon haze above shacks and hovels cobbled together from scraps of wood and sheet metal, framed by equally shabby high-rise tenements. It's easy to see why earthquakes in this city of 6 million people are so devastating.

Our room at Plaza Paris Amistar is actually a small apartment. The bedroom is smallish but the kitchen is wonderful. The wi-fi is good, and the sat TV carries both CNN and BBC. We even have a laundry in the basement. Being on the 12th floor is a bit worrisome, holiday earthquakes, being as common as they are. The location in El Centro is great, too. It's an area of tree-shaded pedestrian malls, shops, banks and eateries - even a well-stocked supermarket.

Bariloche to Mendoza

vagabonds — Thu, 20 Dec 2012 10:21:00 GMT

We were both sick for most of our five days in Bariloche, nothing serious, just nausea and over-all blahness. I didn't eat a thing for two days. It might have been delayed effects from the scopolomine. Or it could have had something to do with the 28-hour bus trip from El Califate. Flying would have been more comfortable but we wanted to see some of the countryside. Besides, traveling by bus seemed more egalitarian than flying, more in keeping with the nomad lifestyle. It was a bit like taking a bus from Kansas City to Yellowstone - as if someoone would even if it were possible. Anyway, we didn't get much of a feel for Bariloche. Cold and windy, a touristy town on Lake Nahuel Huapi full of tour companies, chocolate shops, outdoor equipment stores and St. Bernards. But our hotel was cheap and comfortable with several English channels.

On the shore of Lake Nahuel Huapi

Even for us one day-long bus experience - and the aftereffects - is enough and we elected to fly to Mendoza. Mendoza is positively tropical compared to El Califate. Shorts and T-shirts seemed appropriate but I got a number of stares. Guess men, at least old men with skinny legs, should dress more appropriately. This is the heart of Argentina's wine country so we did the bike-thing through the vineyards of nearby Maipu. It isn't Napa, except for a section beneath the eucalyptus trees the wine trail isn't scenic and the traffic is scarey. But the wines are well-regarded, and tastey, especially the Malbecs. Just a little buzz as we peddled back for a bus to the city.

Back on Terra Firma

vagabonds — Tue, 11 Dec 2012 08:15:00 GMT

El Calafate is 30-something hours from Ushuaia by bus but only an hour and a half on Aerolineas Argentinas for just a few pesos more. But we suspect "aerolineas" is Spanish for "chaos." There is no adult supervision at the gates, no visible staff, only bilingual mayhem.

El Calafate is the entry point to what many come to Patagonia for, Parque Nacional las Glaciar but we are using it to regain our equilibrium and get used to living on dry land again. After the cramped quarters on the Vavilov, our room at Hotel El Quijote seems auditorium sized, and in truth, it is.

We have been spending our time getting haircuts, doing laundry and birding in the nearby Nimez Lagoon. The weather changes hourly alternating among strong winds, bright sunshine, drizzle and heavy rain. You might think that with all the snow and ice of Antarctica we would have had enough, but today we took a bus trip out to the park and the Perito Moreno glacier, which feeds Lake Argentina. Hidden to us, huge chunks of ice were calving to the sound of thunder claps, when suddenly a house-sized piece broke off right in front of us with a loud explosion and a splash like a breaching humpback whale. Even with all the ice in Antarctica we didn't see anything like this.

Male Magellanic woodpecker

Birding has been good, too. There are Chilean flamingos, black-faced ibis, several LBJs and the prize, a pair of Magellanic woodpeckers.

Photos: El Calafate to Mendoza

vagabonds — Tue, 11 Dec 2012 08:09:00 GMT

The Drake Passage

vagabonds — Sat, 8 Dec 2012 06:42:00 GMT

Everyone onboard - at least anyone with a shred of common sense - was dreading the infamously violent crossing of the Drake Passage where seas of 30 and even 50 feet are not unheard of and the mariner's prayer "Lord your ocean is so big and our boat is so small" is ended with Roy Schieder's line in Jaws, "You're gonna need a bigger boat! Amen." We were certain we would have to pay for the glorously calm weather we had in the Gerlache Straits.

Well, the crossing was calm by Drake standards but rough enough for us. It wsa best to remain on the more stable lower decks, prone if possible. Connie and I replaced our half-patches with full doses of Transderm Scop and made it through without embarrassment. I did skip a dinner, partly as a precaution and partly to avoid the sliding chairs, rattling tableware and slopping soup of the dining room. And we stayed in our cabin during the ritual "Rounding of the Horn." Too much motion on the ocean.

By Connie's count I took 1300 photos during the cruise, not an extraordinary number considering the scenery. Mark Cowardine, the zoologist/author/photographer/guide took 2500 in one morning! But no amount of photos, no number of journals and no BBC videos can do justice to Antarctica. Whatever your expectations, Antarctica will surpass them. And I suspect that a second trip - or even a fifth one - will continue to surprise.

"Help me! I'm melting!"

For most people it is the trip of a lifetime. For many it is a life-altering experience, for others a life-affirming one. Besides the natural beauty and the wonderous wildlife, Antarctica gives you a reason to reflect on how intimately connected such a distant and other-worldy place is to our own lives. It is more than saving the cute penguins. It is knowing how an event in Peoria can affect the size of the ice in Antarctica, which can affect the weather in London. The knowledge should transform the unaware into concerned citizens, concerned ones into activists. No one returns from Antarctica unchanged.

Antarctica At Last!

vagabonds — Wed, 5 Dec 2012 06:08:00 GMT

The Vavilov anchored in Charlotte Bay, just offshore from the actual Antarctic Peninsula. While we were waiting for the Zodiacs, Noah spotted an immature emperor penguin, very rare at this latitude, as far south as we will get, 64^o 30’ S. Despite the length of the trip and the miles traveled, surprisingly little time is spent on Antarctica proper, and that only on the Antarctic Peninsula. But is is our Seventh Continent!

The landing site at Portal Point on actual Antarctic soil – ‘er, rock – is large enough only for two Zodiacs at a time and we were allowed on shore for only a short while. We spent our time just sitting on the snow contemplating all we have experienced while a gentoo penguin sat on its egg and a pair of skuas mated nearby. On a crowded ship like the Vavilov, monents like this are to be treasured. Back in the Zodiac we wended our way among the icebergs until the captain reported that the kattabatic wind was blowing down from the glaciers and we should return to the ship. By the time Eva tied us up at the gangway we were cold, wet and stiff and making the jump from a bouncing Zodiac was an adventure.

It was hard to believe that this afternoon was the same day as the morning. Orne Harbor in the Gerlache Strait was glassy smooth, not a breathe of wind was stirring. The ice, sculptured by the sea, was reflected in the water as we cruised aimlessly about. Noah has an uncanny instinct for critters and it was our Zodiac that spotted the enormous leopard seal, our first. The magical cruise lasted until 7:15, returning not because of darkness, only to be in time for dinner.

Deception Island

vagabonds — Mon, 3 Dec 2012 10:43:00 GMT

Timing was critical in boarding the Zodiacs yesterday as they bounced unpredictably on the heavy swells and a misstep would result in an icy bath. Salt spray mixed with snow as we motored along the shoreline glaciers, threading our way among blue icebergs on King George Bay.

Two cold and wet hours on a rough sea with the Israelis was all we could handle and we were very happy to make the daredevil transfer back to the Vavilov for lunch. The captain found a more sheltered spot for our afternoon landing on an ice-strewn, rocky beach. Our goal, nesting light-mantled sooty albatrosses and a colony of Adelie penguins was up a snow-covered hill nearly a kilometer from the landing site, slippery but worth the effort. Adelies are inquisitive and they took our invading force in stride. When we were finished photographing, Connie and I glissaded down the slope to the beach where Weddell seals lounged on the stones while a white-morph sooty albatross patrolled overhead.

The sea was as smooth as glass last night and the thought of staying in bed was very tempting. A six o’clock Zodiac ride to a monochrome whaling station wasn’t much of an enticement to brave the early morning chill. But I manned up and went. Alone. Connie, after all, has more common sense.

Chinstrap and Gentoo greeting party

Deception Island is actually a volcanic caldera reached through a break in the crater wall, Neptune’s Bellows. Two gentoo penguins stood sentry on the beach guarding the abandoned whaling station. Most everyone seemed to be forcing photo ops, looking for interesting angles for non-interesting subjects around the whaling station. I, too, took many shots that will ultimately be deleted or forgotten among more interesting photos before catching the first Zodiac back for a hot shower. Three more of my photos were selected at the “photo club” meeting this afternoon, proving that it takes more than an expensive lens to make a photographer.

60 Degrees South

vagabonds — Sat, 1 Dec 2012 10:00:00 GMT

We have been sailing for two days on a blissfully calm sea. At 7:17 yesterday evening we crossed an imaginary line, 60^oSouth latitude, and entered the area of Antarctica. There was nothing but white caps in the empty sea to mark the occasion and it will be several days before we set foot on the continent.

It was too rough on Elephant Island for whimps like us to land Zodiacs; Shakleton would have to laugh. Ha, ha! This is where he left his crew and sailed off in a 20-something foot whaleboat for a rescue party. Instead we cruised about on the mother ship, marveling at the mountains and glaciers. The sea was a bit calmer in the afternoon, smooth enough for a Zodiac cruise, but not a landing. We found colonies of chinstrap and macaroni penguins on the narrow shoreline stoically waiting out the blizzard-like snow squalls. We considered ourselves very lucky, as this would be our last chance to see macaronis. We continued to cruise in the polar twilight as humpback whales spouted in the distance and an iceberg loaded with Adelie penguins drifted by.

Grytziken

vagabonds — Tue, 27 Nov 2012 09:47:00 GMT

Today was a reverse of Monday on South Georgia Island, sunny in the morning and winter in the afternoon. It was early in the season for so much glacial ice in Hercules Bay but it made for nice kayaking and Zodiac cruising. We took advantage of the wonderful sunshine and stayed aboard watching the seals on the drifting ice flows and the soaring birds.

By the time the kayaks were recovered the wind had picked up and clouds rolled in. We weighed anchor and slowly cruised towards West Cumberland Bay and the nearly deserted whaling station at Grytziken. Katie of the Scottish lilt worked at the museum here last year and, though she tried to make whaling sound like a romantic adventure, I still find it barbaric.

Shakleton's Gravesite, Grytziken, S. Georgia

Once on shore we had a memorial ceremony, complete with whisky toasts, at the cemetery where Ernst Shakleton and his mate, Frank Wild, are buried. While the majority of the passengers followed Katie on a tour of Grytziken, fifteen of us trooped after Jacques on a five-mile slog to see nesting white-mantled sooty albatross. It was snowing heavily by the time we reached the cliffs and visibility was almost zero, but we did see two birds on their nests. Hiking uphill in Wellies isn’t much fun but the boots were needed in the soggy moss where the upper layer of permafrost had melted.

When we returned to the whalebone littered beach we were greeted by a pair of gentoo penguins and scores of farting fur seals. Much of the whale processing plant is still standing and hulks of whaling ships lie rusting on the shore. The whole scene reminded me of Auschwitz, another sign that man isn’t truly civilized. More than 54,000 whales were processed here in the first half of the 20^th Century so European women could have narrow waists and people could read their Bibles by whale-oil lamps.

King Penguins Up the Wazoo

vagabonds — Mon, 26 Nov 2012 08:35:00 GMT

Though we’ve been on board for nearly a week and sailed more than 1000 miles, our trip actually began today. Of the 30,000 people who visit Antarctica each year fewer than 7000 come to South Georgia Island. Their loss. And to think, we nearly chose the 10-day trip to the Antarctic Peninsula without S. Georgia.

The Salisbury Plain, our first “wet” Zodiac landing, is home to 50,000 nesting pairs of King Penguins plus their fuzzy brown chicks. The Zodiacs, those inflatable boats made famous by Jacques Cousteau, were covered with snow when we scrambled aboard at 5:30 AM and it was still snowing heavily as we splashed ashore ten minutes later. The crew had already used paddles to clear a path among the aggressive fur seals on the beach to the muddy plain but other seals lurked behind every tuft of grass. Stepping on one would be bad, very bad.

Nothing can prepare one for the sight of thousands upon thousands of large, colorful king penguins stretching as far as the eye can see. One minute we had never seen a king penguin; the next minute we had seen thousands upon thousands. They covered the plain and up onto the hillsides, interspersed with mobs of fat brown chicks. The falling snow made the scene even more surreal, if that’s possible, and the noise and smell added to the other-worldliness of the experience.

We followed Jacques as he threaded his way among the birds, seals and tussock grass, moving deeper into the colony. We splashed through mud and climbed slippery hills, always giving the right-of-way to the animals. Collectively our group took about 500,000 photos, pretty amazing when you consider that all adult king penguins are identical and only a mother could tell one fat chick from another. But the snow, the changing light and the shear uniqueness of the experience made it impossible to reign in our enthusiasm.

Some penguin humor: A king penguin says to his mate, “A blind date? I don’t know, dude. What does she look like?” Ba-doom!

We were back aboard the Vavilov by 9:00, hungry, cold, wet and totally awed.

The afternoon excursion to Fortuna Bay was as different from Salisbury Plain as could be. The sun was shining, the beach was dry and snow-capped peaks poked into the blue sky. Reindeer, introduced by the Norwegian whalers, grazed on the green grass. Enormous bull elephant seals lounged on the beach, one eye checking us out and the other focused on their harems. King penguins sauntered around, fur seals threatened, albatrosses rested and skuas patrolled the sky looking for anything edible. The kayakers disappeared to who-knows-where and the rest of us wandered where we would, bright red specks among the animals.

What's she looking at?

Back on board we were treated to a barbeque on the rear deck. The food was wonderful and the beer and wine were free but it was so cold that everyone ate quickly and bolted for the lounge.

The Falkland Islands

vagabonds — Fri, 23 Nov 2012 08:29:00 GMT

It took take nearly 36 hours to reach Stanley in the Malvinas, the Argentine’s name for the Falklands. The Vavilov has been rockin’ and rollin’ (mostly rollin’) in the windswept seas. It’s cold on deck despite the sunshine and there isn’t much to see except for black-browed albatross, cape (pintado) petrels, and Wilson’s storm petrels. Breakfast was well attended but there were many empty seats at lunch. It isn’t unusual to hear the sound of breaking crockery as the ship rolls from port to starboard. I was really worried about mal de mer. My brothers and I were known as the “Maginness Moaners” for our inability to develop sea legs but Connie and I are each wearing half of a scopolamine patch and are doing surprisingly well. I admit we are spending a lot of time in our bunks. The public spaces on Deck 6 seem to magnify the motion of the ocean and the enclosed presentation room on deck one is positively claustrophobic.

Ships of our size can’t just pull up to the pier in Stanley so we had to go ashore in the Zodiacs. This requires dressing in bright red “wet skins” and “wellies” for protection from the rough seas. All of the gear is brand new and the Velcro tabs are nearly impossible to open. The folks from the Ioffe were already on shore when we arrived and they commandeered the bus to Gypsy Cove where we were supposed to land in the Zodiacs but the seas were too rough. We are getting a bit annoyed by the favoritism One Ocean gives to Ioffe even though their head start didn’t help them much. The ocean was too rough for them to make any landings yesterday.

Jacques and Noah lead groups to Gypsy Cove for some birding. There were disappointingly few Magellanic penguins but we ajd seen them in <Puerto Madryn but it was nice to be on dry land, if only for a few hours. The weather went from sunny to rain and back.

We returned to the ship for lunch and decided to stay. Nothing in Stanley looked inviting. Why people choose to live in the Falklands is a mystery. Even the beautiful beaches are off limits due to landmines left over from the Falkland War. While we were relaxing on board a squall passed through with heavy, marble-sized hail. Wouldn’t be surprised to see some snow.

The Waiting Game

vagabonds — Wed, 21 Nov 2012 08:23:00 GMT

The strike is over and our provisions will be loaded by noon. It was decided – without a vote by the passengers – to wait for the folks who were marooned at the BA airport to catch up. Some would arrive around lunchtime, the rest around five. We had already lost the day, so it didn’t much matter except that we were out $1500 worth of cruise. Rather than hang out aboard they arranged a catamaran tour of the area, a three-hour tour just like the infamous one that resulted in Gilligan’s Island. We watched our sister ship, ioffe, and the Ushuaia, the ship we had originally considered, sail away, hoping our turn would soon come

It snowed last night and the mountains look wonderful. Connie left her porthole open and the foot of her bed is a bit damp. Unfortunately the wind has picked up and it is bloody cold. But everyone is on board and we finally got under way, 24-hours late. We had barely cleared the harbor when they had a lifeboat drill. These drills are taken a bit more seriously after the fiasco in Italy last year. There is no fooling around in these waters and you have to appear on deck dressed warmly with your life vest securely fastened.

We have gotten to know some of the crew and passengers already. Noah, the naturalist, looks like he just graduated high school but he has already authored a book on penguins and is working on another. Dr. Mike looks just like our friend Jim and Aaron is more than just another expedition concierge; he is one of the owners of One Ocean. Katie is a diminutive Scotts lass, whose voice is brings a smile to my face. Rob and David are professional photographers who are trying to teach the finer points of digital photography to people who can barely turn on their cameras.

Our fellow passengers are an interesting mix. More than half are from Perth, a few from the UK a stand-offish group from Israel and blessedly few from the US. We even have a couple of professional photographers with BBC credentials. Mark Carwardine specializes in whales and his current Sherpa, Peter Bassett has filmed with the famous David Attenborough. Tough competition!

Photos: The White Continent

vagabonds — Wed, 21 Nov 2012 00:08:00 GMT

Falklands, S. Georgia and Antarctica

Labor Issues

vagabonds — Tue, 20 Nov 2012 08:14:00 GMT

The lobby of Hotel Albatross was a beehive of activity when we arrived this morning. Those returning from Antarctica had just learned of the strike and were scrambling for new flights and competing for hotel rooms. We were feeling pretty smug; the strike meant nothing to us. We just had to wait around for our boarding time along with another group booked on our sister ship, Ioffe, which happily included most of the American contingent.

Around noon our luggage was loaded onto trucks to be transferred to the ship. Finally at four the group gathered and our luggage was removed from the truck, which couldn’t pass the picket line. We were told to hand-carry it across the street to the ship, being careful when we crossed by the strikers. The union wouldn’t allow the crew of the Vavilov to help us until our gear was onboard.

The bad news came at the onboard briefing. The strike would be over either at 8:00 or midnight. Probably. This was to be the first trip of the season for the Vavilov and we didn’t have enough food for the trip. Our food truck wasn’t allowed to the pier so the strike is affecting us and we won’t sail until morning at the earliest. Oh, well. Ioffe, on the other hand, still has food left from its last trip and was able to leave as scheduled. We will carry the rest of their food and deliver it in the Malvinas, aka the Falkland Islands.

Out of Touch

vagabonds — Tue, 20 Nov 2012 05:50:00 GMT

Visiting Antarctica, a dream of ours for years, is about to become a reality. Our ship, Akademik Sergey Vavilov, sails today and we will be out of touch until December 8^th. Like astronauts on the far side of the moon, we will have no way to communicate - nothing affordable, anyway.

Not your typical cruise ship!

The Southern Ocean is big and stormy and the Vavilov isn’t as large as we would prefer but we have ample seasickness patches. We will try to keep up with our journals while onboard and will post new stories and photos as soon as we can get back online.