Currently keeping my cookies in the roiling southern Atlantic
I am writing this post on a ship that is pitching and rolling in the Scotia Sea somewhere between South Georgia Island and the Falklands. There is absolutely nothing in sight but water and fog and the horizon line. Things are crashing in the kitchen. Salt shakers and tea cups fly off the tables, and books tear off the shelves. Good thing I am not prone to seasickness.
The reason I am in this end-of-the-world place: I am on assignment tracing the footsteps of Ernest Shackleton, the early 20th century explorer who famously rowed 800 miles across Antarctic waters in a wild hail-mary bid to save the crew of his wrecked ship. I hitched a ride on a cruise ship, the National Geographic Explorer, to see his prized destination, South Georgia Island. As much as the experience aboard this cushy floating hotel bears little to that of Shackleton and his crew, the island is still incredibly wild and remote. Thousands of penguins and seals dot the shores. Giant wandering albatrosses patrol the skies, and we saw more than half a dozen whales in a matter of hours. Even though the wind is currently topping 60 knots and the swells are over 25 feet tall, I love it. This is the sort of harsh, gorgeous landscape that inspires me most. Stay tuned for the full story in August…