230123.2100z

I’ve made it across the notorious Drake Passage from Tierra del Fuego to Antarctica in a little over 4 days. I’m now anchored in  place called Stancomb Cove in the northwest corner of the water-filled caldera that is Deception Island. It feels great to have gotten here, definitely the “Mt. Everest” of my project to sail solo to all 7 continents. Of course, I still have to “climb back down” by crossing the Drake Passage northward back to Puerto Williams and civilization. The northbound voyage is actuallly harder than southbound for a bunch of weather/sailing reasons.

The crossing was a mixed bag with a slow start in light and variable winds using the engine to assist at times so I could make tangible progress. That was followed by 20-25 knot winds in a perfect direction to get the boat up to 6-7 knots. I’m usually satisfied if I can averaged 5 knots. The last 24+ hours were a stay-awake marathon on ice watch using the radar and my eyes  as I got closer to Antarctica (I couldn’t stay awake – ha!) I was determined to arrive at Deception Island and anchor during daylight hours meaning I had to keep my speed up.  As the wind faded and crazy undocumented currents both assisted and retarded my progress, I made heavy use of the engine to maintain the pace. 

Every sailor thinks about the glorious first landfall at a new island or continent, the first glimpses of the highest peaks, the mountain slopes, the coastlines and the towns. I’ve experienced that a few times on this 6 month voyage. BTW, landfall to a sailor is when land is first sighted, not when first going ashore.  When you think about sailors centuries ago navigating with the crudest instruments, sighting land was the big deal, not wading up onto the beach.

Alas, I was denied my big landfall moment arriving in Antarctica. The relatively warm north winds pushing over the cold water created fog. Even 100 miles out visibilty was less than 2 nm.  I had huge cruise ships pass me within a few miles and never saw them. I sailed passed Smith Island and Snow Island, easily close enough to see them but saw nothing, just fog. Getting close to Deception Island the visibilty collapsed to less than 1/2 nm. Another cruise ship passed me that far away going the opposite direction but I couldn’t see even an outline in the mist. Really spooky.

The entrance to the Deception Island caldera is a very narrow passage known as Neptune’s Bellows. Are my e-charts accurate enough, will I be able to find this thing in the fog? Well, I found it, and as I approached a cruise ship called the Fram was also just starting through so I had only to follow them (coordinated on the radio).  Right at Neptunes Bellows,  and inside the caldera, visibility improved considerably so I was finally motivated to grap my camera and take photos. It is a spectacular place.

I have a cake mix on board I thought I would use to celebrate this arrival but now I think it’s premature. I wouldn’t want to tempt Neptune’s ill will with such a presumptive gesture. I’ll wait until I return to Puerto Williams, when I have again escaped, have transcended, the icy grip of these winds, these waters, and my own mistakes and failings.

First, a correction to my last post. I left Mar del Plata on December 20, not December 22.

After leaving the anchorage at Bahia Oso Marino I thought I had a weather window to make it to Bahia Thetis straight south across Bahia Grande before west gale force winds moved in.  That weather window closed down so I sought an intermediate point to anchor while I waited 3+ days for the gale to blow through. Even a marginal anchorage would be better than 3 days hove-to at sea in gale force winds.  Unfortunately, there are no harbors, bays or coves suitable for small yachts, or easily accessible ports, along this part of the Argentine coast.  

One of my cruising guidebooks is “Patagonia & Tierra del Fuego” by Mariolina Rolfo and Giorgio Ardrizzi, commonly known among cruisers as the “Italian book” and regarded as the bible for sailing these waters. They had a brief reference to a charted anchorage a yacht had previously used situated 2 nm north of Cabo Virgenes at the east entrance to the Strait of Magellan. That yacht had anchored there for similar reasons, to avoid the worst of a westerly gale because the anchorage is immediately to the east (in the lee of) of a very tall cliff (coastal escarpment) which serves to block the worst of the gale winds from the west leaving the water mostly flat and relatively calm.  I decided to make for that anchorage, arriving Sunday around 1900z. I set the anchor and put out 55 meters of chain expecting it to still be windy. It has been, but not nearly as bad as being on the open ocean. The holding ground here for the anchor is very good. The winds are typically 10-20 kts, but I’ve had gusts of 30+ kts. No waves here but I can look east to the open ocean only a mile or so away and see much more turbulent waters.

The gale will end this evening (Wednesday) so I plan to leave here Thursday at 0900z and sail 180 nm directly to Bahia Thetis, ETA Friday evening. At this point the forecast shows a north wind for Saturday so I’m going to try to make the passage south through the notorious Le Maire Strait when the south-setting ebb tide begins at HW slack at 0906z. Timing is everything here. You definitely do not want to make this passage with wind opposing tidal current. It can create huge waves. If the wind forecast holds I should be able to make it into the Beagle Channel to a protected anchorage called Puerto Espanol in Bahia Aguirre. From there it’s only 1.5- 2 more days along the Beagle Channel to Puerto Williams assuming no strong contrary winds. I expect to motor most of the way west along the Beagle Channel unless I get a realatively rare easterly following wind.

Life swinging around an anchor in gusty winds is not much fun. Every creak and groan of the anchor chain during a strong gust is unnerving, wondering if something will fail or the anchor will drag. I use a so-called bridle on the anchor chain consisting of a chain hook the hooks on a link in the anchor chain and a heavy 3/4” line.  The line is secured to a bow cleat.  Once the chain hook is set I let out a few more feet of chain so the hook and heavy line are now taking the load of the pulling chain instead of the windlass. The windlass has no load because the part of the chain out to the hook is slack. This is a common technique for anchoring which should always be used (but most don’t) especially if high loads on the chain are expected.

I haven’t mention much about wildlife in this blog, partly because I don’t know much about the birds and other wildlife I’ve seen. Of course, the albatross is the most common bird hanging around the boat while at sea. There are a few different varieties. For a time a couple elected to use my bowsprit as a perch.  An albatross following your boat is generally considered a good omen but beware treating them with disrespect as Coleridges’s “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” warns.

New to me are the Commerson’s dolphins. They are unmistakably, being almost all white with black dorsal fin and head. I first encountered them after leaving Mar del Plata. Like other dolphins,  they will swim alongside the boat, even under it, experiencing the bow wake as something different for them in the ocean. I was able to get some short videos of them in action. As I was coming into Bahia Oso Marino there must have been a hundred or more playing around with 50 meters of the boat. Truly a rare sight.