Misled at Deception Island. Or better yet, seduced by a clear night. Like a young lamb, we walked straight into the wolf’s trap. Never trust something that’s too good to be true.
After a lovely meal at anchor in Pendulum Cove, a velvet blanket settled on the rim of the volcano.
Shit… Too late… Ah, it’ll be fine… No, it won’t.
Anchor up… Let’s try again… Shit, anchor up… Let’s go.
Twice blown out of the anchorage before there was finally enough light to safely navigate towards Trinity Island. At 05:00, we passed Neptune’s Bellows under staysail and reefed mizzen. Once outside the caldera, the wind dropped to a civilized force 4 and, within an hour, disappeared altogether.
Just hours earlier, we had been at anchor in a white, foaming sea beneath a sky bursting with incredible stars. The Southern Cross was silent, yet I could hear it say: “Told you so.” Ah, to hell with it. It was stunning. And it made me feel alive.
A bruised ego is easily patched up with a strong coffee and a tall tale.
Halfway down our track, we sailed into the fog. A quick glance at the RADAR—yep… ice. Lots of it. Four hours and three Snow Petrels later, we glided into Mikkelsen Harbor, at the very southern tip of Trinity Island. The continent peeked through the mist, 15 miles away.
Autumn in Antarctica. Wow.
All is well,
Gijs
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