Each of our individual journeys take us on a unique and incredibly narrow pathway within an extraordinarily wide world. We experience so little of the whole - a mere sliver. Those truths are particularly evident whenever one travels. Without a doubt, while looking upon the right side of any given path, the traveler misses those amazing sights on the left. Not to mention the wonders left behind at home. Sometimes, I wonder if this thing we call travel is worth the effort?
Still, while a priceless experience is the exception, an encounter perceived as valuable is common in the "going" and the "seeing". Sights awe. Harmonies inspire. Flavors motivate. Smells intrigue. Coolness refreshes. Each is all-consuming in its moment. However, all are fleeting within the whole and we’re left unfulfilled.
Further, each pathway, whether proximate or remote, unveils not only awe-inspiring vistas but also stark realities where poverty, hunger, and disease hold sway. Being faint of heart, we do our best to avoid war zones. Be that as it may, conflicts both large and small are never far removed. Yes, travel brings us to regions where the Fallen World is all too evident. Sometimes it's hard to look. Sometimes it’s hard to look away. And I’m reminded, but by the Grace of God, there goes I.
Yes, the journey is flawed. But perhaps that is all the more reason to get up and go. Indeed, melodies tug at heartstrings and harmonies are surely orchestrated in heaven, but it’s the dissonance that reveals the blessings which in turn wells gratitude.
To that end, Jamie and I embarked the cruise ship Viking Jupiter on December 10, 2024 for an 18 day voyage around Cape Horn. Down from Buenos Aires, Argentina and across the Atlantic to the Falkland Islands. Then west to the Cape and up the wild Chilean Pacific coast to Santiago, Chile. A voyage of roughly 4800 miles.
What follows are a few sights and thoughts I'd like to share:
And...they're off!
 |
Top: Two hams - prim and polished, settling in at SeaTac for some 5,210 miles of flying.
Sixteen hours of fly-time later, a bit of the luster had been knocked off the edges.
Bottom: A familiar giant floats past our window a few minutes out.
|
Logistics
 |
Top: SeaTac bustling at dawn as seen from our hotel room.
Bottom: Buenos Aires Terminal Rio de la Plata (Silver River) as seen from our cabin. |
Worldwide, approximately 2.9 million people get on an airplane everyday. What's amazing is that the vast majority get off said plane where they intended to go, when they wanted to get there, and despite the horror stories, with their luggage in close proximity.
The number of people taking a cruise is harder to estimate varying on day of the week and seasonality. However, a conservative estimate places the daily number in the hundreds of thousand.
There is no single, definitive figure for the total tonnage of cargo in transit worldwide every day. Suffice to say the number is enormous and evolving.
Buenos Aires, Argentina
 |
Left: The Obelisk, Plaza de la República
Right top: Plaza de Mayo
Right bottom: Pastry display, side street storefront.
|
 |
Left: Jamie taking a sightseeing break at Confiteria La Ideal.
Right top: Nativity scene, Buenos Aires Metropolitan Cathedral.
Right bottom: Skyline as seen from Mirador Guemes Gallery Tower. |
 |
| Puerto Madero District. |
 |
| La Boca neighborhood. |
Montevideo, Uruguay
 |
| Breakwater and adjacent graveyard. |
 |
Right: Carnival costumes. The festival takes place every year between mid January and late February.
Running as long as 40 days, it is considered the longest carnival in the world.
Left: "Wow there, Big Fella! You need to go that way." |
Puerto Madryn, Argentina and the Punta Tombo Penguin Colony
 |
| Sunrise over Golfo Nuevo (New Gulf) as we approach Puerto Madryn. |
The Punta Tombo Provincial Reserve is a two-plus hour bus ride south of Puerto Madryn. The conservation area covers a little less than a square mile on a peninsula in the Atlantic Ocean. The terrain could best be described as rocky, windswept scrub.
In total, there are 18 species of penguins but the ones found here are Magellians which come here to breed. These flightless birds mate for life and each year return to the same nesting burrow. Sometimes the burrow is in the open, many times under a scrub tree. The penguins have no fear of people and it was interesting that they appeared thin and disheveled on their way to the beach, then plump, prim and polished, their tuxedos perfectly tailored, as they returned to feed their nestlings.
This video gives the best "feel" for the place. Please turn sound on - we've dropped down to 44 degrees latitude south, i.e. we've arrived at the Roaring Forties and the rushing of wind is part of the deal.
Be forewarned: Our wildlife photography skills leave much to be desired.
 |
Left top: Guanaco with penguins.
Right bottom: Jamie crossing an item off her bucket list: "See penguins in the wild."
|
Falkland Islands
 |
| East Falkland as seen from Blanco Bay. Port Stanley is barely visible at the far left. |
Port Stanley resides at 51° 41.537' S. Yes, we had arrived at the Furious Fifties and squalls gusted throughout the day. Truth be told, we were there 3 days before the summer solstice, December 19, so it's probably safe to say that the winds we experienced were a mere zephyr when compared to those gales of the winter months. Nonetheless, all shore excursions were cancelled for the day - bobbing tender boats and geriatric balance are a wicked mix. The cancellations were met with disappointment as we had hoped to see Gentoo and King penguins.
Cape Horn
 |
| Isla Hornos |
Cape Horn lies at 55° 58.992' S - just a few degrees removed from the Screaming Sixties. Thankfully, the winds had subsided from those felt at the Falklands and the waters of the Drake Passage were relatively peaceful, although dark. This area around the cape is the final resting place of some 800 ships and 10,000 sailors.
 |
Left: Jamie rounding Cape Horn and laying claim to enrollment in the "Order of the Drake".
Right: Screen print of my Apple Maps app. A reminder that sometimes life exceeds our wildest dreams. |
Ushuaia, Argentina and the Western Beagle Channel, Chile
|
Top: Inner Harbor of Ushuaia at sunrise. With a population of 82,000 and lying below the 54th parallel, Ushuaia is the world's southernmost city.
Bottom: Husky Park nature walk.
|
 |
Waterfalls...
glaciers...
waterfalls and glaciers |
Chilean Fjords and the Amalia Glacier
 |
Right: Good grief! Again? Who are these people?
Right top: Sunset. The Pacific Ocean crashes against the other side of those islands.
Right bottom: The region is incredibly remote. No beach front cabins. No roads and certainly no towns. Pleasure craft were rare and there were no more than a handful of "mussel farms?" - barges anchored in protected coves with netting paraphernalia buoyed off the sides. |
That was the Amalia Glacier. For perspective, the face is not quite two miles long and that gap on the left through which the majority of the ice flows is about a mile wide.
BERYLS OF BLUE
In serenity it forms crystalline
Unique, delicate, lacelike, shimmering
In breathless silence it waits
Mesmerized by these heavenly storehouses
In His time He pierces the cloud and it falls
Softly it lingers, swaying in dance
Gently it lights on a bedding of white
Soon to be captive in beryls of blue
Embraced by the legion, the many lock as one
Together they slide, inexorable
Ever so slow, ever so sure
Freedom forever beckons
The eons pass, destiny arrives
In unison their cry impales the tranquil
Alleluia! echoes across the calm
With exhilaration they plunge
The journey fulfilled, with warmth rejoined
Joy born of creation overwhelms
Llanquihue Lake
Our ship has left the quiet waters of the Chilean fjords and is now steaming north in the open waters of the Pacific. Next stop Puerto Montt, Chile and an excursion to the towns of Puerto Veras and Frutillar on the shores of Llanquihue Lake. The settlements are rich in Germanic tradition and architecture but for me the highlight was the lake with Volcan Osorno presiding over.
Valparaiso, Chile
 |
| The hills and street art of old town. |
Valparaiso is built upon 42 hills, most rather steep. So it is no surprise that as many 28 funiculars have climbed these vistas over the years. Today, 7 remain operational. The funicular - One minute and 47 seconds of rip-roaring, thrill-seeking, adrenaline-pumping fun that only an old man could love.
Valparaiso was our final port. For 18 days we had lived the life of royalty and beheld the world as I had never dreamed. But the time had come to return to reality. The next morning we were up at
O-dark-30 to disembark our ship and board a bus for the ride to the Arturo Merino Benitez International Airport, Santiago, Chile. Then came airplane flights and Custom's queues and miles of airport trekking shadowed by chaotic baggage claims with further bus rides and more walking. Wondrously, some 30 hours later we arrived at our front door right on schedule thanks to the magic of logistics.
However, my body felt like it had been hit by a truck and to my great shame I bother to mention any of this. Indeed, the snafus and aches pale if I dare succumb to foolishness and compare the inward with the outward. I've been blessed with the gift of movement. I've been blessed with the companionship of a beautiful wife. I've been blessed with the gift of sight. I've been blessed with the resources to "go". I've been blessed.... All without any justification on my part.
Along the way, I've witnessed many with less, some with none.
But by the Grace of God, there goes I.
