Jane (and soon Callum) back to Antarctica

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Jane sent the following entry today from the Akademik Sergey Vavilov, the sister ship of the Ioffe on which we sailed at this time last year. For reasons too long and painful to relate, Callum will not join Jane until Feb 6. After three more voyages to the Antarctic Peninsula, South Shetlands and the Antarctic Circle, Jane and Callum will take a few days' break in the sun and sand on Uruguay and will be home March 15, just in time to do a laundry before setting off for the Azores, UK and Norway on the Polar Star (this time with Jane's sister Barb along as a guest on the UK trip!). As a prescript to Jane's entry below, her luggage has now showed up in Buenos Aires and should be in Ushuaia when the ship returns there Feb 6. Air Canada strikes again! Callum

Jane: My seatmate out of Toronto to Santiago turned out to be a real delight. Jacqueline is a physiotherapist from Sao Paolo, Brazil and had just spent six months in Toronto studying English in preparation for her Master's studies. She was pretty excited to get back home in time for Carnivale, her
boyfriend and her mother's carrot cake - not necessarily in that order. We both had a few hours' sleep before she left to change planes for her flight home, and I came back aboard our rather run-down looking Air Canada 767. It's definitely time for AC to buy some new planes, or engage in some serious redecorating.

Our flight to Buenos Aires arrived on time, and we were quickly processed through Customs to wait for the baggage, or in my case, wait and wait and wait. Air Canada seem to be trying for some sort of record as they have managed to lose my luggage twice in a row, only a month after my last go-round with them (Calgary-Toronto). In this case it is a bit more serious since there is now no way for me to have it before setting sail for Antarctica. I'm older and wiser now than the last time I passed through Pearson, and had divided the really essential items between my carryon and my checked bag, but of course the warm clothes, my new GPS and all my ship programming material is in the checked, ie. lost one. I rushed around BA to pick up a few of the things I will need, like more underwear and yet another tube of hair gel (I am now the proud owner of not less than half a dozen of those - since those never make it under the liquid limit for carryon).

After my quick shopping expedition I wandered down towards the docks area along a broad, leafy boulevard and just enjoyed the heat and the idleness, then found myself a pleasant little café where I ordered right off the Spanish menu, not knowing what anything was. I was pleasantly surprised to
find that I'd snagged myself a wonderful palm heart salad and chicken shishkebobs, all made with fresh, ripe local fruits and veggies. A good Argentinean red wine and crème caramel rounded out the meal. I was pleased when the waiter complimented me on my halting Spanish memorized from the phrase book over dinner, but was taken aback when he tried to pick me up! His suggestion that he join me for coffee was firmly but pleasantly rejected, and he seemed quite miffed as I paid the bill. He got a tip anyway; after all it's the first time anyone ever suggested my Spanish was mucho bueno. I'll be a lot happier when Callum shows up next month; I'd forgotten the hazards of the single female traveller.

Apparently age doesn't buy you any relief.

The Reconquista Garden is a wonderful hotel and I had a good few hours' sleep before they rang me at 4:45 to tell me my taxi had arrived to take me to the airport. I dressed, washed and packed up within fifteen minutes and got to the airport by five fifteen for my six thirty flight, only to receive the latest curve ball: sorry, but your reservation was cancelled and the flight is full. Except, of course, for one seat left in Business class - would you like to buy that? After 45 minutes of agitated exchanges in Spanish and English, I received my Business class boarding pass, made out to Callum Thomson. Turned out they'd been assuming I was him and not me. When they rechecked the passenger list, ah, voila, there was indeed a
Sproullthomson on it. I guess my EnglishSpanishgesture combination had not quite given them the gist of my attempts to inform. With that straightened out, and relegated back to cattle class, I ran to my gate just in time for boarding. By this time I was a little rattled and completely resigned to disaster, so was not at all surprised to find that no one at "the office" knew anything about the boxes of gear that Callum had left in Ushuaia after his Nov-Dec trips on the Polar Star. It took the entire day to track them down, but just prior to sailing they mysteriously appeared on the deck, put there by unknown hands. So I will not be completely dependent upon the Reject Box on the ship - though I did snag some great socks and a pair of rainpants.

I spent the evening in the usual flurry of organizing, drafting the daily for tomorrow, and sorting passengers, then collapsed into bed at 10 pm without even glancing out at the Beagle Passage, which was apparently stunning in the warm twilight. I also missed the main event - a breeching humpback which then slapped its tail in greeting before heading off. A glorious welcome aboard for the hardy souls who were still out of bed at that hour; quite a few apparently.

Jan. 29

I'd taken my seasickness pill last night and felt quite lively getting up in the lively Drake shake, but by the time I'd completed my 7-8 am bridge watch I was not feeling well at all. Ran for the bathroom and gave up my breakfast banana, then took more medication and snoozed through the breakfast hour, getting up much refreshed and ready to hold down a bowl of oatmeal. Lots of royal and wandering albatrosses putting on a show along with a few sooty petrels, which has amused some of the pax for much of the day, along
with the lectures on birds and whales. I've kicked off the Iceberg Spotting Competition and encouraged everyone to cheat as much as they like, up to the time we actually see the first one of course.

...more to come

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