A notification from Facebook Antarctica Group reads.
Sea Trade Cruise News reported that the line confirmed that “a Zodiac carrying six passengers and two expedition staff overturned near shore, tragically resulting in two fatalities. The weather conditions were light winds and a smooth sea state, and indications are the accident was caused by a breaking wave. The other four passengers and two staff are recovering under the care and observation of our doctors and medical staff on board. The incident occurred near Cape Lookout, Elephant Island, Nov. 15,
I can’t believe what I am reading and pause to take in the dreadful news as our ship is nearing Elephant Island. The thoughts about the passengers unfortunate turn of events especially while on their trip of a lifetime. When death occurs suddenly it's as though it was not meant to be. But I imagine if I had to die I would prefer death doing something that I enjoy so much. Not die on a stinky deathbed in a sterile hospital. Life and death are natural parts of the human condition. Allen once said that he had a friend who loved motorcycles and died while riding on his motorcycle. At the funeral his Old Indian special edition Harley Davidson was on display with the words, ‘He lived to ride’. How fortunate to pass this world, doing what he loved the most. Yet the news of the incident was too much to take in especially while we are on the same trip. I decide not to tell Allen. At least not right away because he is an anxious soul and I don’t want him thinking about dying while on our magnificent voyage.
This evening, Allen returns from the lounge. Shaking his head he says.
There was a ship before us and some passengers died nearing Elephant island.
I know. What a shame.
I am still breathing in slowly as though the incident was just a glitch. I don’t know why I am so calm? Perhaps trying to save Allen from panicking. Calm as when my son was smaller and jumped over the fence and fell on his face. Letting him know everything will be OK. Even though this incident ended with people’s lives. Allen asks,
How did you know?
Facebook.
Hopefully with this news Gabriel who has been plotting a mutiny will settle down. He has been plotting a revolt against the captain ever since we were rerouted missing a couple of landings. Perhaps the news of the tragic accident will finally put to rest that changing the itinerary was worth saving our own lives. Meanwhile, I am more grateful than ever that the captain and crew are doing their best to keep us safe. I am sure that the crew who lost the passengers on the previous ship were as cautious but with nature there are no certainties. Even in the midst of nature’s perfectly unpredictable calibrations, mankind will always risk their lives. Perhaps because we are a part of nature with our own uncertainties. Allen and I sit quiet to process the news and stare out to sea letting the soothing waves and salty air fill our souls.
With the hot shower dripping over my body caresses me from the news of the day. I wrap the plush white robe and stand in front of the bed when the floor begins to move. My gut rumbles and tongue salivates, metallic, then acid clogs my throat. I swallow hard. The moment I was planning for comes without notice. No to prepare, nauseam strikes like a whip making me bolt to the vesselI where all the glorious meal of the evening rushes down into the toilet, plummeting particles back up splashing into my eyes and hitting my nose. I wipe my face with a new hand towel and scramble through the toiletry bag dangling off the towel rack. Remembering my doctor friend, Mini’s instructions on taking the medication.
Make sure you take them before you feel nauseus.
It’s too late!…Inside the pill bag my fingers fumble until I find the aluminum pack labeled N for Nausea. The wristband is still in the package, as I was hoping I would not need it. My fingers and nails slice and crack the seals open. Rereading the instructions…click the rotor tabs to the desired setting 1-5 being the highest. 3 is a good start I think. As my body begins to quiver I roll into the safety of my bed and grab on the edge of the mattress. Then remember my Sony headset, turn on the audiobook and close my eyes. Meanwhile small shocks zap my wrist and I lay still and focus. Bzzz, bzzz the electric pulsates but my gut still rumbles with the moving cabin. I spin the rotor all the way to 5. Taking deep breaths to calm my nerves and lay still all night begging the tremors to stop.
Elephant Island
Elephant Island, Antarctica, is named after the elephant seals that make their home there (as well as for its elephant-like shape). The island is located at the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula, in the outer reaches of the South Shetland Islands.
In 1916 Elephant Island became immortalized as the scene of the beyond-all-odds survival story that was Ernest Shackleton’s ill-fated Antarctic expedition. This extraordinary tale of endurance, determination, and the human spirit is brought home to visitors to Elephant Island by the Endurance Memorial at Point Wild.
This morning, the ship anchors near elephant island, our last excursion and my gut steadier than last night and I am trying to keep calm because I want to make this infamous landing. But I know my fate is not over. Mr. Drakes is around the corner and I expect that he would not be forgiving. The Drakes passage is one of the most treacherous waters in the world. The combination of harsh weather, the deadly sea with stormy conditions and hazardous currents. Even though the ship is steady my body is still traumatized from last night. Putting my legs through my pants slowly, not to make any sudden moves paying close attention to my stomach and nerves. Fully dressed, I slowly slip into my shoes. I join Allen out on the cool balcony. Breathing in the salty moist air. Hoping for a wonderful day already thankful that I didn’t feel queasy.
Off at sea, rippling water follows behind the zodiac. Paul Bunyan Mike rode off to scope out Elephant island. He is looking for inhabitants watching the scene, using his expert senses to feel for the creatures movements, sounds and smells. Even the movement of water to determine whether it would be safe on our zodiac. Heads pop out on the balcony to watch. His tree trunk strapped into a red life jacket that looks like a child’s floatie on him that he probably wears as a formality. Because I imagine that he could glide like a whale in and out of the icy waters without it. He stands tall as in the painting of George Washingtonn crossing the Delaware with no life jacket. Then his form fades into the fog.
The Flurries fall onto the rails and I look up at the hazy sky and cool air hits my nerves calming my guts exchanging to excitement for what’s to come. Not thinking about what might happen, a storm, crashing waves. It didn’t even occur to me that I might not see any island creatures. The morning was crisp with snow flurries. I enjoy watching everyone as we wave like children on a school bus on our first field trip. The Indian man and his American wife wave from above, the Zimbabwe man and his American wife wave from next door and the young single ladies, one Israeli and the other Taiwanese wave from below. We are all in our Aqua blue parka and gears waiting for the call.
Well hello, hello. This is Sam, your team leader. Today, We will not be able to land on Elephant island...
Our hands freeze with disappointment and ready to cry.
The elephant seals are aggressive, blocking our landing. We are going to be cautious. But not to worry. We want you to experience the animals of Elephant Island. We will try everything we can to see the creatures. On the zodiac we will get as close as we can to see wildlife. So without further ado we will begin with Red Team, calling Red team, calling Red team to basecamp.
We hoot and cheer!
Allen and I stand out on our balcony and watch the red team chug away. One black inflatable boat after another and the water splashing across the sides of the boat.
The crew, respectful of the inhabitants, use precaution. As we don’t want to be a menace to elephant seals and have them retaliate against us for disturbing their habitat. And if Paul Bunyan thought it was not safe. I was good to stand back. Thus far, I could die now with what I have already experienced in this expedition. Anything else was whipped cream on my milkshake! Finally our turn to basecamp. Everyone hustles, stepping into their long black boots. Tying their life jackets across the waist. Another strap below their crotch that snaps to the back strap for added safety. We are a line of aqua blue. I wait patiently with my goggles over my cap. We inch forward as the boat fills about 10 passengers at a time. The zodiac bobs up and down. Two crew members grab both my arms and I grab theirs as instructed. Landing I quickly sit on the wet rim and slide over making room for the others. One passenger in her 70’s carrying a walking stick can’t put her feet down as the boat bobs beneath the gangway. The crew holds her arms as one of her leg dangles. The boat is rocking and bouncing, moving forward and back. One of the male guests gets up to help. The ship crew reacts,
Please remain seated.
And he sits back down.
The crew member says to the woman,
Ready?
She holds their arms tight and they let her down till her feet touch the slick deck. She slides down butting next to me.
Paul Bunyan is our driver and I feel safe even with the choppy waves. The Zodiac, quietly pushes away from the ship passing small ice balancing on the waves. The motor kicks on. Bigger ice sheets float near. The water rushes over and into our inflatable. Seawater splashes on my new rain pants, a time of truth. Before our trip I let water run through 3 pairs of ski pants, and rain pants. So far I feel dry. I can’t see the island but my nose is struck by the stench of sea creatures. Not the scent of fresh seafood markets in Thailand. This is live, mating, and breathing. Soon a mass of Elephant seals appear lining the shores. The snorting sound is intense. The pungence exudes off their skin. They snarl, race, and their massive bodies hobble from one end of the shore to the other to guard their island. Letting us know we were not welcome. They are hostile and we dare not land.
About ½ a meter away from land, Mike cuts the engine off. We watch the army of Elephant seals block the waterways and feel their aggression. Sounding their horns to all the other inhabitants. The spectacular elephant seals that give the island its name are one of a kind. Their large noses hanging resemble short elephant trunks, and are known for making loud, roaring noises, particularly during mating season. Which I only viewed on Animal Planet. The giant male beat the other to a bloody pulp competing fiercely for access to females during the breeding season. In front of Elephant island our hearts pump as we take the site in. How stunning! While I adapted to the smells my other senses take over at this wondrous scene. Seals basking in the sun. Chinstrap penguins waddling in the waters while the albatross glide for krill. The zodiac before us turns to leave and now we move closer and time sits still while we are entranced.
On our way back to our cabin I notice the railings decorating with blue paper bags to the end of the hall. Goodie bags? Something to celebrate our last excursion? Or perhaps a party announcement? I don’t examine further and enter the cabin to undress still high from our excursion.
In bed, I am half asleep when the boat rocks and the bed sways. I spread my arms pressing down the comforter trying to control the bed from swinging. I have not been keeping track of the itinerary purposely to avoid knowing the crossing of the Drakes Passage. Trying to psych myself and my body in order to avoid the inevitable moment. With the patch already on my neck, I bolt out of bed to take my pill, strap on the band and cross my fingers and hope they work.
In the morning, I take slow steps to the cafeteria. My seat rocks but the tables are screwed to the floor. The glasses clatter. While the sea crashes against the window panes. I swallow one spoon of oatmeal before my gut rumbles and taste a hint of acid. My cue to leave. My head pounding and my gut bubbling, I grab the table and stand up. Allen wears a worried look.
You ok?
I am not sure.
Trying to remain calm for him. Feeling as though I have to protect him. For what I didn’t know? When I am the one feeling ill. But I don’t want anyone fretting over me.
I will be fine. I just need to lie down.
Ok text me if you need anything?
I leave Allen and walk pacing myself when my feet lurch forward feeling the urgency in my body. Cupping my mouth I am desperate to get to the cabin to avoid a stunning mess on the hall carpet. At the door, I press the lever hard, and rush to face the toilet. Remaining in the cabin I cling to my bed trying to keep the room from swinging. My headphones over my ears with the mask covering my eyes.
When I come to, I squint to see an assortment of breads, crackers and breadsticks in a metal basket. With a bowl of popcorn from Kadek. Day one, Kadek asked, anything else mam? I sheepishly asked, do you have popcorn? For what’s a movie without popcorn? Since then a bowl of popcorn was delivered promptly at 6 pm. Off the bed, I slide on the carpet to the table, lick and nibble the tip of a breadstick before feeling queasy and fling back to my safety bed.
I don’t know what time of the day it is when Allen walks in. He says,
Honey, you OK? You are not alone. It’s a ghost town out there. I have the ship to myself.
While the rest of us are pinned down in our cabins, he is sipping mojitos in the lounge. He says,
Even Kadek is sick and wants to find another ship or a job on land. He’s been chewing on the same batch of popcorn he popped for you.
That surprises me because Kadek, our steward, was always smiley and put together.
Day three and I am still ejecting all the fine dining cuisine. What a waste! And the pills, the wristband and patch, useless!
The last day the ship docks. I shower off my crustiness and finally emerge in the cafeteria for breakfast. Sam announces through the PA,
“Good morning, everyone, good morning.” It’s going to be a beautiful day in Ushuaia and even though our Antarctica trip has come to an end, I wish that it will live forever in your memories.
I thought Antarctica would be just another destination. It wasn’t. It was THE destination I’ve been waiting for my whole life. Even while crossing the Drake Passage, the thought of Antarctica slipping away from me with every rise and fall. Taking a toll on my body to its physical limits. Even harder than pregnancy. Antarctica was wild, unpredictable, and changing at a moment’s notice, dangerously igniting my senses. Antarctica made me feel like I was traveling for the first time. Redefining what it was to explore. With no indigenous human population, leaving it as a beacon of nature. Antarctica belongs to no country and a destination of peace by the Antarctic Treaty, devoted to scientific exploration. Because of that, there are no traces of trash, but pure serenity.
As I submitted to this voyage and accepted Antarctica for all its glory and tragedy, I gained something greater, a gift so valuable to my growth. A renewed sense of being one with nature which is phenomenal, pugnacious and unflinching. Antarctica will always be in my heart with the faces of their creatures embedded in my mind,
…until I can return someday to meet the grand Emperor penguins.
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