Drake Passage

It has now been four days sailing the Drake Passage on our way back to Ushuaia. Many more journeys since the departure date of our trip on the 18th of January. The previous day we set foot on Europa for the first time; straight away she welcomed us with the impression that this was to be an unparalleled trip to Antarctica. An almost 20-day ocean voyage to the bottom of the world, during which she will not call at any port but only anchorages and drifting areas on the Antarctic coasts.

Two engines can help her progress when necessary; for the rest she relies on the wind, she deals with the sea conditions she encounters and the icy waters of the southern high latitudes. It is not just her destination which matters, it is also the way to get there and back, all making for a singular experience every time she sets sail for a new quest.

Melville, Dana, and Conrad affirmed that a sea voyage under sail meant much more. Each one was unique. From the moment the sailing ship weighed anchor or unmoored, or dropped its tow, and began to move under the force of wind on sails alone, everything was thrown into balance.

The Drake Passage, with its 450 nautical miles of temperamental weather, winds, and moody seas, represents a whole adventure in itself. Variable meteorology, different water masses we sail over, changes in weather, winds, and temperature, irascible sea states, development of fierce squalls. Sailing here requires knowledge of both the ship and the surroundings, the capacity to predict and think ahead of what is to come.

Under variable and shifting winds and with numerous showers passing over our course, often the Captain and Mates shout a new course to steer, a turn of the wheel, ask for more or less canvas. The seamen show their skills hauling, striking sail, furling them, climbing aloft on a heeling, pitching, and jerking ship. They call for hands on deck to pull on the lines to hoist sails and booms, to douse them when necessary, to brace and trim.

At the end, all for sailing the ship on the changing weather and oceanic waters of the Drake.

When not busy on deck, the crew can be found doing the daily cleaning, splicing, serving ropes, seizing blocks, re-leading lines on the rig, and any other maintenance undertaking that the old lady Europa requires to keep sailing safely from the high latitudes to the tropical areas. And indeed she calls for an unstoppable stream of these sorts of projects.

No matter whether we wake up to a grey, drizzly morning like today or a sunny one like yesterday—steady winds or another journey of countless passing squalls—sail handling and maintenance keep going on.

Gusts sweep over us now and then, easing as the day goes along, first over a general north-northwesterly wind field that later on shifts to a southwesterly, even dying down by mid-morning.

Less wind, more canvas. The outer jib is hoisted, then together with the topgallants and main topgallant staysail.

Showers pass by; some of the canvas is doused and set again when the quick squalls pass.

The southwesterly also makes for bracing squarer and setting the royals; now she happily sails, though rolling, at good speed between 7 and 8 kn on a point of sail between beam and broad reach. Winds pick up, making for packing away the royals. Late at night braces are pulled a point sharper to port tack, and just before the day ends the royals are sheeted down and we haul up their yards.

Sixty nautical miles south of Cape Horn by the daily meeting after dinner. About 25 by midnight. The depth sounder starts picking up shallower depths; we are sailing in the waters of the continental shelf that extend southwards from the southernmost tip of the Americas. A foraging area preferred by wandering and royal albatrosses. In the strong winds of these waters, many of them show up today, gliding and soaring close to us.