Drake Passage
The Dreaded Drake Passage! For centuries just the mention of that name in this part of the world would bring fear and apprehension to sailors faced with the prospect of sailing here. The “Roaring Forties” give way to the “Furious Fifties” and then on to the “Screaming Sixties,” referring to the degrees of latitude south of the equator.
Today all souls on board the National Geographic Explorer got a true taste of just what those sailors of old knew and feared; with no land anywhere on the planet below the tip of South America to slow the waves down, the amplitude can build and build, creating true sea monsters. Hundreds of ships and thousands of men have been lost trying to “Round the Horn” while navigating through this body of water.
Of course the sailors of old didn’t have the modern technology that we have today. Captain Oliver Kruess continually consulted the Internet for the latest weather charts that show actual and predicted wind strength and wave heights. This was his 100th trip to Antarctica, and he used all of that knowledge and experience to safely guide the ship through the easiest crossing possible. Not to say that it wasn’t exciting! At it’s peak the ship encountered a Beaufort 10 with wind speeds gusting to 65 mph and waves in excess of 30 feet in height!
But perhaps the most amazing piece of modern technology available to us all was the ship herself. Built originally for the rough waters of the North Sea, and modified to our own specifications, National Geographic Explorer is a fully stabilized hull design meant to ride out exactly this type of sea. Many onboard had actually wished for just such an experience, while others simply wished for it to be behind them. Sea Fever or Sea Sickness, are two uniquely different perspectives of this crossing.
Sea-Fever
I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
By John Masefield
Sea Sickness
I must go down to the seas again, where the billows romp and reel,
So all I ask is a large ship that rides on an even keel,
And a mild breeze and a broad deck with a slight list to leeward,
And a clean chair in a snug nook and a nice, kind steward.
I must go down to the seas again, the sport of wind and tide,
As the grey wave and the green wave play leapfrog over the side.
And all I ask is a glassy calm with a bone-dry scupper,
A good book and a warm rug and a light, plain supper.
I must go down to the seas again, though there I’m a total loss,
And can’t say which is worst: the pitch, the plunge, the roll, the toss.
But all I ask is a safe retreat in a bar well tended,
And a soft berth and a smooth course till the long trip’s ended.
By Arthur Guiterman
