Arrive in Ushuaia

---

Tuesday 16th
A beautiful 3 hour flight put us in Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the world. From there, we were bused into the Tierra del Fuego National Park, and met with a catamaran for lunch. The captain of the catamaran showed his huevos grandes, as he flipped the cat back and forth around a piece of island where about 30 sea lion-like creatures maxed out on the rocks. All 100 passengers were in awe of these lazy guys, and they did not hesitate to run out into the 30 degree, 40 knot wind to warm up the shutters on their cameras.
As beautiful as this part of the trip was, the only thing on anyone’s mind was what our boat looked like, and whether psychologically it could get us across the drake passage. And as we approached the port of Ushuaia, everyone pointed to different boats and yelled, “That’s it. No, that one.” Wishfully thinking, everyone took to the large Russian ice breaker, the Akademik. But that wasn’t ours; not with the red trim, representing the good ole days of sputnik and bread lines. We had the National Geographic Endeavour, a converted Germany deep-sea fishing boat. Although not as brash as the Akademik, the Endeavour was shiny and looked ready to take us deep into the Antarctic Circle.
The three of us unpacked our suitcases, bundled up, and took to the lookout over the bridge. We were men on a mission, and we knew the coming days would be the ultimate test. Would the drake passage bless us with safe passage, or would we be rejected and tossed back to land in Argentina?
Just to be on the safe side, I smacked on a patch and downed some meclizin, which we promised uncle it was a mild form of mesculin. If the waves were getting big, my ears wouldn’t relay to my tummy.

---