19th March 2018 – Departure Day: Ushuaia to the Drake Passage
We awoke in Ushuaia to the sound of the Argentine national anthem, as naval officers raised the light blue and white flag up the pole in the Argentine naval base opposite the hotel, set to the backdrop of the snow-capped mountain peaks further behind. With one last check for everything we needed for the trip, we made sure our bags were fully packed, checked out of the hotel, and handed everything over to the crew of the Plancius.
Before being able to board the vessel ourselves, we had time for one last explore of Ushuaia, followed by a lecture from the lovely Lars. The lecture gave us the chance to practice the techniques used for recording the species of marine mammal and seabird seen, as well as the environmental conditions in which they were spotted. However, my attention peaked when it was mentioned that we would be using walkie-talkies to communicate our observations, to which my mind raced to communicating like a stereotypical RAF pilot during WWII amongst each other with each sighting (exactly the way in which our pilot spoke during the flight from Edinburgh to Heathrow).
As soon as the lecture was over, and I was back in reality, it was time to say goodbye to land and say hello to our new 89m home for the voyage south. After passing (a very lax) port security, we were greeted by the staff of the Plancius and shown to our cabins where we were reunited with our bags. I was not expecting the levels of luxury that awaited us; an en-suite bathroom and a TV? It made my old university halls look like a squat by comparison. Secure locks are also included to stop the occasional piece of luggage/projectile knocking us out in the middle of the night in the notoriously rough Drake’s Passage, putting my mind at rest that I’ll only wake up with sea-sickness, rather than a black-eye AND sea-sick.
Once we had settled and put everything securely away, we proceeded to the observation lounge for a safety presentation about the billion-and-one stupid ways in which we could get hurt/die on the boat, as well as learn the procedures necessary to evacuate the ship:
- Listen out for the (extremely loud) alarm siren – If you (somehow) miss this, you will die.
- Go to your cabin, put on warm clothing, and collect your large life jacket – If you forget this you will be really cold/die.
- Meet at the muster station and wait for your name to be called – If you miss this, you will really irritate the staff/die.
- Make your way to the lifeboats in a calm and orderly fashion – If you do this properly, you may survive.
I feel like they should’ve played the Titanic to really drill home why we should follow the safety procedures, but that’s probably not the best idea on the way down to the land of ice.
As we sat down post safety procedure and chatted amongst ourselves, and the ~100 other passengers, champagne was offered out to all on board. The captain, a large Russian sea-dog, came down to give a speech and hold a toast, followed by an introduction to the staff on board. And with that, the boat was released from the harbour and we were off.
A three-course dinner was held in the dining room at the back of the ship, apparently one of the areas least susceptible to the movement of the sea, which was held over discussions of the journey ahead, as well as the horrible conditions that were going to await us when we hit the beginning of the Drake Passage. However, getting ready for bed, the seas are relatively calm, and everyone is in good spirits.
1am update: The sea is hell, Poseidon hates us.
written by Cemlyn Barlow
