Heading: SSE

We are in the midst of two days at sea, traveling SSE to South Georgia. Technically, it is not considered part of Antarctica; but it is most definitely south of the Antarctic Convergence. This intersection is where the warmer northern oceans converge with the frigid Southern Ocean. Here the water temperature drops precipitously, and yet unlike the whole of Antarctica, the waters surrounding South Georgia narrowly escape freezing, year-round. This makes it a haven for wildlife, not to mention the "conveyor belt" of Krill that flow with the ocean currents in its direction. By the way, did you know that the total mass of krill is greater than any other living thing on the planet... including the human species?

You may remember that I adore being on the sea, unlike some of you. The bigger the waves, all the better! Overall, we have been very fortunate on this extended ocean crossing. The winds are at our back, the swells are generally less than 10 feet, and the stabilizers on this amazing ship are unbelievable. A smaller, less stable ship would be tossed about like a toy. But we enjoy a gentle, sleep-inducing, to and fro sway.

Phillies Fan on-board

Yesterday, before the convergence, the atmosphere was crystal clear and the temperatures were nearly balmy. Having the wind behind us allowed the bow to be without wind, so I settled into the most forward spot on the ship for hour upon hour of bliss. The sun was overhead, and it seemed that the tip of the bow was pointed directly at a luminescent moon. There is something extra special about a moon visible during the day! As I watched the white tipped swells rise and fall I was kept company by the never-ending sea birds that live their lives here. They rarely, if ever, flap their wings. There is no need, as their wings are held aloft by the wind currents generated by the swells. Occasionally they do land on the water, maybe to eat something, but when ready to rise they simply open their wings and ascend. For uncertain reasons they are attracted to the ship. Maybe it is to show us the joy of flight? Or maybe they hope for a scrap of food overboard? Regardless, we can enjoy the spectacle of their synergy with the water and each other. Singly, paired, or in groups they lift, fall, bank, and soar, often coming close enough to gaze into your soul before returning to their folly. Even more surreal is the understanding that they are the Albatross, the Petrel, and the Prion. Numerous species of each are in attendance, weaving in and out of sight, with wingspans up to 11 feet.

Today the clouds are overcast and the ocean is a steely gray. We only went outside for a moment or two, but as soon as you noticed the frosty air and our visible breath, we made a retreat. We have passed the Convergence, and now the real cold is to begin. South Georgia is to be precipitously mountainous and 50% of its mass is covered by snow and glacier. We can expect temperatures in the 30's, and the possibility for some serious wind. But there will be enough time for that later. How about we re-visit our experience with the Johnny Rook in the Falklands, and a greener landscape?

You may remember that before leaving the Falklands entirely, we paid a visit to Stanley. We saw a small town, assembled from an array of colorful rectangular wooden houses with tin roofing. There was no destruction here during the war, which was entirely fought within the hills west of town. Only the land mines remain. We noticed those well-marked mine fields as some of us enjoyed an afternoon traveling to a working farm. Long Island Farm is 23,000 acres of Eastern Falkland territory, supporting 3,000 sheep, cattle, horses, sheepdogs, chickens and cats. The owners Neil and Glenda Watson, and son Paul, made us feel right at home. My hope is that tomorrow will bring to you our video reminder of our time with them.