Welcome Aboard!

Good-bye, Ushuaia.  Hello, open waters.The long-awaited Embarkation Day finally arrive today.
 
After a long (9 hours) and restful night's sleep, which I desperately needed after my grueling and brutal transition from 46 degrees N across the Equator to 54 degrees S in the span of 30 hours, I woke this morning feeling rested, brimming with excitement and anxiously counting down the hours until I was able to climb the long gangplank and climb aboard the M/S Expedition, sail southward through the Beagle Channel into the Drake Passage and on to Antarctica. 

I was a bit apprehensive about how much sleep I would actually get last night since I found out upon arriving at my hotel that I would be bunking with a "roommate" for the night. Sharing a room wasn't something I expected or something I would choose to do, ever. "Ok", I thought to myself, "I can do this! After all, it's only one night."

My apprehension was short-lived. My suite companion, a 47 year old college professor from Seoul, Korea, named Yeong Ku, arrived several minutes after I had begun to unpack.  He burst through the door with a smile brighter than halogen headlights, full of boundless energy and enthusiasm, a wonderful sense of humor and a wealth of information about Ushuaia and pretty much everything under the sun.  Immediately, he was offering to be my tour guide and find the most suitable restaurant for my growling stomach.  "Let's go now!  I will take you all over the city!!"  I had to politely remind him that all my systems were shutting down one-by-one and by the minute, thanked him for his hospitality and asked him for "The Cliff Notes Tour" and that any decent restaurant would do.  Within only minutes, I knew that "YK" (as I later began calling him - as if we'd been buddies for years) would be a welcomed, first friend on this expedition.  YK is much like me in his travel ambitions; his goal is to see 100 countries.  I'm only at a measly 30, and I think I've seen a LOT of this planet. 

After a delicious buffet-style, sunrise breakfast in the hotel's dining hall, I hit the streets of Ushuaia to dig deeper, take some photographs, buy some souvenirs (I actually got tired of seeing how many ways craftsmen can sculpt penguins because there are innumerable ways as I soon learned), grab some lunch, watch the locals in action and fill about eight hours of sightseeing until queuing time for the grand meeting of all 114 passengers on this cruise. We were instructed to meet at 4:00 pm at the main port entrance where all the large cruise ships patiently wait, hop on a shuttle bus which would make the short trip down the long dock and deliver us at the foot of our vessel.  Time seemed to drag on, and filling the time actually (about midway) into "killing the time".  To be honest, there's really not much to do in adorable Ushuaia.

Finally, 4:00 arrived, the congregation of passengers magically appeared from all directions and away the bus went.  As we passed by the armed security guards at the port's main gate, I could feel the magnitude of that moment realizing that the time had come to finally meet the giant red ship, the Expedition, the mythical sea chariot that would carry me, carry us all, out into the frigid, tempestuous Southern Sea into the Ice World below.  Of all the goose bump moments I've had along the way with this trip, from its conception and infancy, this moment was the most thrilling of all.

Upon boarding, each of us was greeted repeated with "Welcome aboard!" from every member of the crew.  We were ceremoniously escorted to our rooms by a legion of crew members. Our luggage, which had been collected at the hotel earlier in the day, was neatly waiting for us in our cabins.  Next, the first order of business was to gather in the main lounge, expansive and luxurious, for safety instructions and our first lifeboat-loading drill.  We were shown how to properly wear a life jacket, get into a bright red, floating, watertight body suit (very cool) and were given the chance to board and inspect the four, neon-orange, heavy metal, high-tech life support capsules (essentially a mini-submarine each designed to hold up to 30 people each and sustain life for 48 hours and guaranteed not to capsize) and a brief tour of the ship's 6 decks.  Getting to know a ship this size, longer than a football field, is not easy.

 A rare moment, one of many today:  A beautiful rainbow appeared in the darkening sky at dusk, as if to say, "Have a safe and wonderful voyage!".  An omen like that bodes well for a successful passage across the Drake Passage over the next two days.

With some down time to relax, unpack and mingle, dinner was announced for 8:00.  As it turns out, this is a very international group of passengers, which I had heard would be the case from my advanced research. At the gathering around my table alone, seating for eight, there were 7 nationalities represented:  American (moi), Australian, Korean (YK!), Israeli, British (but East Indian born) and Hong Kongian (OK, I know that's not really a word).  The conversation was enormously interesting, varied and with fascinatingly different, yet universally alike, perspectives. After all, we are all from one family regardless of where we originated.

After dessert (creme brulee and fruit), we all excused ourselves for our cabins to settle in for our first night aboard the Expedition and hopefully another peaceful night's sleep.  Wanting to grab some fresh air before it got too late, I grabbed my parka and went up to the top observation deck.  Behind me in the distance, only a blurry line of golden lights slowly fading into the dark distance, was now faraway Ushuaia bidding us farewell.

Hello open waters.