We had one of those “bucket list” experiences this morning as we went around Cape Horn. This stretch of water, where the Atlantic, Pacific, and Southern oceans with their different currents meet, is considered one of the wildest and most treacherous stretches of sea in the world. It was the graveyard of many ships in an earlier time, particularly if they had to come through here in the dangerous winter months of June, July, and August.
All that seemed quite overblown to me as we began to approach it on calm seas. Yet the moment we caught sight of the the Horn itself, Isla Hornos, it seemed to drop 20 degrees and the wind began to blow so hard it was difficult to move.
In time, we came close enough to see the monument constructed there to those lost at sea.
Just to prove I was there, I asked some stranger on deck to snap a picture of me. Those of you who know how shy I am know that took a lot of courage.
We did a tour around this island, and this time, for a change, the best views were from starboard, not port. Our cabin in on the starboard side, and John snapped this picture of the backside of Horn Island from our balcony.
At lunch, Adriano, the flamboyant cruise director, and his crew did some weird ceremony where people were “baptized” with the water from Cape Horn. Neither John or I decided to line up.
The rest of the day was pretty peaceful as we sailed east, I did a lot of work on photographs and some writing. The evening show was a tribute to Bert Bacharach. It was mediocre, but compared to the shows we’ve seen here it was like seeing this year’s Tony winner.
Tomorrow we land on the Falkland Islands and we see penguins! I am so excited.
