Departure day

By 0800 we had heard that we were still missing a couple of luggage bags from two of the voyage crew, and in combination with the strong 40 knots of wind which were blowing at the end of the Beagle Channel, we delayed the abandon ship drill until we were complete.

The blue skies were deceiving as to how many layers we had to wear as the reality was a Near Gale was blowing. Due to the delays, there was plenty of coffee drinking and name learning as we waited before the explanations of the roles, we would be carrying out on the Drake Passage began.

Everyone gathered on deck to participate in the first sail handling of the trip, keen to learn how to puppeteer canvas with the tangle of lines on deck. There was much commotion as bunts and clews were handed out, alongside an explanation of how and when to ease. People were also gathered at the sheets, ready to pull the corners of the sail into position. When the captain made the call, lines were hauled and eased and made fast, the sails cranking open with each pull from deck. The canvas filled instantly in response to the gusting winds, increasing the force propelling the ship from the quay. Mooring lines were cast off forward to aft as the ship pivoted towards the sea. Meanwhile, the spanker (the fore and aft sail at the stern of a barque, able to brace from port to starboard like the flipping of a fish’s tail) was set. Hands new to line handling fumbled through unfamiliar motions as an experienced deck crew guided the process. There was much talk later of how soft hands would toughen with experience, becoming sure and thick-skinned by the time we next saw Ushuaia. The stern line – the final mooring line holding Europa to the quayside – groaned under the increasing pressure from the ship. A well-timed easing and release of this leash allowed the line to be hauled onboard, and Europa was free to venture out into the Beagle Channel once again. 

All this action, of course, occurred at the exact time lunch was served. So, after a morning of waiting on standby, moving through familiarizations between cups of coffee and introductions to fellow crewmates, we had an afternoon thrown into sail handling, rushing for a sandwich or sip of mushroom soup before hauling lines and setting sail.  

We passed into the Beagle Channel, a place named for the HMS Beagle, a ship not too dissimilar to our own, travelling through the Cape Horn archipelago in 1832-34 with a young Darwin onboard. On entering the Beagle Channel, he wrote ‘The scenery here becomes even grander than before. The lofty mountains on the north side compose the granitic axis, or backbone of the country, and boldly rise to a height of between three and four thousand feet, with one peak above six thousand feet.’ Enjoying the stunningly sheer post-glacial landscape, we could see how a young natural scientist could be so enamoured with the area.  

It was time to set the fore-topmast-staysail and deckswabber. These are fore and aft triangular sails; a generous curve carved into them as we sailed downwind. More line-handling ensued, and we enjoyed the comfortable ride with following seas and reduced apparent wind (as we travel with the wind, it feels less strong). 

Giant petrels soared towards the ship and back, inspecting the strange beast in their waters. A black-browed albatross flew low to the water, eyeing our hull. We passed an island of birds- first mis-identified as penguins (an indication of how eager we are to see these flightless waddlers) but later confirmed to be imperial cormorants. These cormorants have an interesting story to tell- being the only waterproof member of a family of divers who allow water into their plumage as a means to reach greater depths. For Imperial Cormorants – the sibling of the south – this is an expense too far as carrying wet wings in below freezing conditions would lead to certain death. It is worth looking out for other cormorant species – great draconian creatures – hanging their wings to dry in more temperate environments. This is a behaviour you cannot observe in the cormorants of Antarctica. 

The upper topsails and royals were then set – a new rhythm of roll to get used to, every change in wind, swell and sail introducing new steps to the dance.  

Dolphins appeared at the bow, racing with ease alongside – jumping and surfing through the bow wave. We looked for signs to identify their species. In this area, grey dolphins flanked with white can be one of two species: Duskys or Peales’. The characteristic white forehead and double-fingered blaze on one particularly charismatic individual led us to conclude that they were Duskys. 

Information on the dolphins was provided after dinner at the eight o’clockie, alongside the announcement that sea watches would begin that evening. This was a moment of great anticipation, our voyage was truly about to begin as we entered the Drake Passage and ventured further south.