The seas are calm today and the largest birds in the world are drifting along behind us. The sky is a continuous, flat grey and the air still holds a chill reminiscent of the icy world in our wake. In that direction, we lay a sinuous trail of turquoise as our bubbles mix with the dark blue water and rolling swell.
In the middle of the ocean there are no landmarks. Few ques to steer a soul towards landfall. Just the familiar direction of the wind.
Down here that wind goes in circles. Round and round the Antarctic continent, picking up speed as it squeezes through the narrow gap between South America and the icy peninsula.
It grazes Tierra del Fuego on that circuitous path. The same winds we felt as we left South America 9 days ago.
Like those winds my mind comes back to Ushuaia again and again. Back to trees, back to green. Back to the world north of 60 degrees and all the people waiting for us there. All the loved one’s eager to live vicariously through our remarkable stories.
Our stories from the ice!
