Fitz Roy

Getting used to being dry again

After an excellent run with the weather, we finally got our share of rain and wind at Fitz Roy.

Arriving in El Chalten about 10 pm we awoke the next morning to the first fine day the town had seen in a week. Oblivious to this we headed off to the foot of Fitz Roy in sun shine and were soon tramping in shorts and tee shirts. The torre is a massive granite tower that, while too steep for the snow to settle on it, is surrounded by glaciers and is more impressive than the Torres del Paine towers. An early evening climb up the slope at the base of the tower and we were able to watch climbers on the glacier, while the azure blue terminal lake sparkled in the sun.

After a huge dinner we settled down in our tents in the now very familiar beech forest. During the night the rain came in and Mary was forced to abandon her bivy bag and squeeze into one of the tents. During the morning a brief gap in the rain provided an opportunity to eat and pack before a 3 hour walk to the next camp site, by a moraine lake at the base of Solo. Here the glaciers tumble down to about 700m, but we only got glimpses through the rain and clouds of their source. The camp was full of increasingly frustrated climbers waiting for a break in the weather that never came. Instead the rain got heavier.

The next morning we packed up in the rain and headed back for El Chalten. As we moved away from the mountains the weather seemed to improve and we got fresh glimpses of Solo. The rain soon returned and we checked into a hostel for our first reading day in 5 weeks of travel. We found time to cook our own dinner, comprising large quantities of prime steak and red wine.

It is raining again today and the surrounding foothills are dusted in snow. There is talk of horse riding or ATV hire, but I suspect this will become our first true rest day. There are signs that shopping instincts are emerging and there are mutterings from the ladies (no longer girls as we are out of the bush) about manicures.

Tomorrow we start our journey home with a bus ride to El Calafate and plane to Ushuaia.

Posted by Ross

Torres del Paine - Sun, Snow, Rain and great views

After the yachting and Antarctica it seemed that little would be able to match the experience, but after a slightly flat start we have had equal challenge and excitement in Torres del Paine culminating for for Mary and I with a run around most of the circuit over 2 days.

A last minute change of plan at the park entrance and we began that evening with a 3.5 hour trek up to Campo Torres at the base of the Towers that give the park its name. A cold wind and occasional rain showers had some dressing warmly at the start, but layers quickly came off as we climbed over 600m to the camp. Arriving at the camp, which was set on a moderate slope amongst the beach trees, it could have been almost anywhere in the New Zealand bush, except that there must have been over 60 tents and one toilet. A very efficient tent setup and dinner preparation had us in bed by about 11 pm. Then it was up at 4:15 for the scramble up the moraine to the viewing spot under the towers (torres) in time to see them at sunrise. The tips of the towers were touching the clouds while strong winds brought snow flurries and the early red light teased us by playing on the nearby smaller peaks but never quite on the torres. It was a spectacular place, but the light for the great photo never happened. After an hour or so of waiting and cooling we descended back to the camp for a power nap and breakfast before beginning a 7 hour tramp around to Los Cuernos.

We had intended to make it to Campamento Italiano, but heavy packs had us all deciding that Cuernos (pronounced quearnos) was the place to stop. It was Joy´s turn to have the team virus and she had a particularly torid time of the day. The Cuernos or horns are shear peaks of pink granite topped with dark jagged rocks and are almost more spectacular than the famous torres. The camp and associated refugio are sandwiched between the cuernos and a turquoise glacial lake. It was a wonderful setting and once we had pitched the tents in a small area of forest to get out of the gale and purchase a bottle of red wine (for only the price of a small mortgage) we could relax and enjoy it.

Two hours steady trekking the next day saw us at Campamento Italiano where we pitched the tents before heading up the Rio Frances. This proved an unexpected delight as the mountains gradually enfolded us and hanging glaciers periodically shed some of their hanging bits in thunderous roars. The walk ended in a fantastic circ of granite faces. Sheltered from the almost incessant gales and with clear skies, it was a magic place.

There was relatively little to recommend the Italian camp, the toilets were closed (despite about 40 tents being pitched overnight) and the Conaf officials had deserted their posts, so we had our packs shouldered by 7:45. Showers turned to heavy rain as we walked through scrub like beech to Hotel Paine Grande at the head of lago Pehoe (pronounced pay-o-a). It was New Years day and the hotel was running a little late after a big night, which meant we were in time to order breakfast (never mind the big feed at Italiano, that was 3 hours earlier).

Mary and I were itching to ditch the heavy packs and make a light-weight run around the rest of the Torres circuit, but this required getting accommodation at a refugio on the way, a task that was difficult as everything appeared to be booked out. At the last moment we heard there was a cancellation at Refugio Dickson and there would be space there. The only challenges were that it was officially 16 hours walking to get there, the forecast was for snow and gale winds and the hotel manager said it was ´not possible´. Just the incentive we needed.

Ditching most of our gear into storage and set off with light packs just before midday. The first goal was Refugio Grey and we ran most of the way there in well under half the recommended time. Great views of Glacier Grey and ice bergs in the lake, but little time for photos. The rain got very heavy from here and despite good gear we were soon soaked. ´Track Closed - falling rocks and possible landslides´ said the sign just past Campamento los Guardes. Deciding it was probably just a risk mitigation sign we ignored it. Two minutes later was an impressive landslide down a steep gully that terminated on the glacier. Two large steel ladders needed to be climbed to get out of the gully. This was cold on the hands - but preferable to the old log ladders beside them. More gullys, ladders and views of the giant glacier stretching away into the rain continued. It was dark, forbodding country alternating between mature beech forest and large areas of denuded rock where avalanches had swept the area clear.

The Guardo intercepted us at Camparment Passo. It was not possible to go on, as there were high winds and snow on the pass. It was also steep slippery and exposed. After a short discussion in the warmth of his cabin he agreed to let us continue, but took our details. A rare few minutes of relatively flat travel and then the track vered sharply up. A brief break in the rain and we were able to take our coats off in the vague hope that we might dry out a bit. Two hundred metres higher it started spitting again so after a brief discussion and hug we put on another dry layer and headed on. By Tararua standards it wasn´t that steep, but it was greasy and we appreciated the odd handrail of rope or sapling.

As we emerged from the bush about 300 metres from the top the rain turned to light snow. Fortunately the wind was almost behind us and there were spindly florescent snow poles to follow, but we took the precaution of firing up the GPS for a possible back track (it was useless for direct navigation being almost a km out with the map). The snow was falling very thickly by John Garner Pass, hiding the trail. For a while we were forced to leap-frog each other from snow pole to snow pole, but conditions soon improved and we were soon romping down the scree slopes with confidence.

Another hour or so in deep mud amongst the mountain beech roots and we reached Campamento Perros (Dogs camp). The camp is run as a fully serviced operation with a common room tent complete with wood stove made from a 40 gallon drum. We ordered coffee con leeche
and warmed up briefly before heading out in the rain for the final, gentle leg through the bush to Refugio Dickson where we arrive about 10 pm (an hour before dark). To late for dinner we ate another groups left over pasta, just pleased to have been able to get bunks and hire sleeping bags.

The next day was a gentle saunter back to where we had started our trek at Alberque Los Torres in about 6 hours. A great couple of days, wonder if we could do the whole circuit in 24 hours. Might require a return trip.

Frances, Jane and Joy had their own adventures which they will post separately.

Posted by Ross

Now we are home.

We are back in the land of green grass and darkness at night.

 

Steve, Peggy and I made it back pretty much on time.  This was despite the usual ineptitude of Aerolineas Argentinas.

 

Anyway, we filled in about 8 hours at the airport by having a decent steak chips and beer dinner (yum) then stomped about the duty free areas after passing through the usuall shambles at passport control.

 

Later, we were subjected to more dubious security checks when our friends at  Aerolineas Argentinas insisted on a pretty random and cursory search of all passengers as they boarded.  Result?  A one hour delay, but I still got on with a bottle of alcohol based hand santitiser, toothpaste and all the trimmings without an actual search, after I told them that I had no matches.  Meanwhile, other passengers were having bottles of water taken off them… talk about token security.

 

So, what did we come back with?

 

A flaky nose tip from the cold;

 

Flaky cheeks and freckles (this is Peggy by the way);

 

A Father Christmas beard for me;

 

Knowledge that it isn’t the stove at 45 degrees, its me;

 

After a lifetime of being unable to sleep during daylight hours, you can sleep anytime over a 24 hour period when not on watch;

 

You can operate reasonably well on 4 hours sleep;

 

Sea sickness passes and you do get sea legs;

 

How to hand pump a toilet;

 

That there is no such thing as a rope on a yacht.

 

Written by Chris

 

 

 

 

Life on Spirit

Now that we´re back to web access we´ll post a few images of life on board Spirit.  Is was warm and comfy with every last bit of space used.  There was storage under the floors, under bunks wall spaces.  Spaces not easy at times to access.

 

Everyone became competent at helming the boat - under stress and at times more relaxed.

Spirit to Vavilov transfer

Update 12  - Spirit to Vavilov transfer

Dec 24 broke bright and clear, another blue sky, and still water.  Chris still had a bit of a lurch on, whether from his alcohol consumption the previous night, or his lopsided walk up a very impressive peak with one snow shoe and one crampon, (his footprints were very amusing, one thigh level print, one yetty print, one thigh level print . . .) we will never be certain.   We breakfasted on pince mies (made by Peggy) from the night before with heavy hearts. It was our last day on Spirit and the rendezvous with the cruise ship Vavilov was 9am!! The race was on to get into the cabin first to find your gear and get it packed before it became buried in extraneous and unclaimed belongings; whose camera cable was whose and where is that gps, is that my hat or yours, I'm sure I left it here, shuffling and disgruntled sighs.  However, there was also the sad realization that we were leaving this very unique and special yacht, its cooky inhabitants and an environment which had shaped us and brought us closely together over the previous 2 weeks. 

We motored to our meeting point, further into Paradise Harbour, lounging on deck and drinking cups of tea.  Vavilov was late so some of us went ashore to walk up a nearby hill, the last time we would be deposited on land by our wee zodiac.   There was a contingent from the Vavilov, just arrived, who were also deposited at the same spot, about 60 folks compared with Spirit's three, and our group hastened up the hill to get away from the throng. There they found a chinstrap penguin rookery, the tenacious little rascals had found their way up there, about 100m high, quite a climb for a short legged feathered individual with food for two or three. They like rocks and tend to nest well away from the shore, but that was obviously the nesting site of the extreme sport chinstraps.

Anyway, back on Spirit there were introductions going on between Woody, the scientific leader and head of the English speaking crew of the Vavilov, and his semi-reluctant would be passengers.  He approached on a zodiac at least 10 times the size of ours, and its outboard purred like a kitten.  We bridled defensively.  Our entire luggage collection went in one shuttle, and he returned for us shortly after. There was much hugging and we arrived shortly after at the Vavilov, with strict instructions on the ONLY acceptable way to get off the zodiac.  After our little 8 passenger trip, looking after 91 passengers, of varying age and capability, is a very different operation.  Cabins located, and what space, each of our cabins was approximately the entire living area on Spirit. Basins and fresh white fluffy towels, non pumping toilets and a shower head you didn't have to hold!! Stairs, libraries, dining rooms and presentation rooms, drying rooms, air con, other people to cook your food AND wash up - in short, complete luxury.  A few briefings later, we met in the bar for a cup of tea. The Irish group we briefly met before they went off in the zodiac to their kayaking leg in Spirit.  There was a strong sense of deflating spirits and a growing realization that we were completely exhausted from our previous leg.  There was an afternoon zodiac trip which a few of went on and which was a spectacular ride, while others engaged in the first of many naps. 

A strange change in dynamics occurred, after the close proximity of the previous few weeks, all the chores, watches and relative lack of privacy, we now all had our own space and freedom.  Yet despite that, there were lots of other people around and lots of noise, there were things organized throughout the day; zodiac trips to shore, morning tea, talks, lunch, further zodiac trips, all very ordered and pre-arranged. Tannoy calls to our cabins called us to meals in the dining room and announced the impending trips and lectures.  Comparisons were made to Hi de Hi and One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest!  We all felt a little lost, and not a little out of sorts, and persisted in walking around with our Santa hats on as a means of identification and camaraderie.  No herding for us please.  No watch for us that night, the ship hummed quietly and we woke in the morning back at Deception Island on our return to Ushuaia.

Christmas Day.  Peggy and Chris presented us all with little gifts, which was a lovely surprise.  After an amazing breakfast of eggs, bacon, fruit, porridge, cereal, oj, toast, tea and coffee, and STILL no washing up, there was a trip to Bailey Head and Whalers Bay arranged.  Excellent, on our previous visit, the wind had been unfavourable for landing here, so we were not going to repeat any parts of our trip.  We walked in groups amongst 100,000 nesting pairs of chinstrap penguins.  Lots of the chicks had hatched and were being kept warm and fed by their devoted parents.  There were single chicks and nests of two, but often only one survives and it was apparent from quite an early stage that one of the chicks was strong and healthy while the other was noticeably more scrawny.  We also saw a skua flying off with an unprotected chick and were amazed at how quickly it swallowed it on the wing, as well as the usual squabbling male penguins and a few late season last minute courtship attempts. 

The afternoon was spent at Whalers Bay, where we walked to Neptune's Window, a depression in the rock face close to the entrance to the caldera. It was bright and clear but there was a biting wind and we all walked vigorously through the sulphurous steam along the beach and up the short rise. The whaling station in the early 1900s was taken over by the British Antarctic Survey, and it was inhabited for much of the century but after a few volcanic eruptions was deserted.  The area has old hangars, huge fuel tanks and the remains of old whaling vats, wooden barrels and whale bones scattered around.  We, of course, HAD to have another swim in the hot pool, this time generously dug by our muscular crew and we all leapt in, Santa hats still intact and sang Jinglebells not very well but everyone joined in. Ah, it was great.  An extremely wet journey back to the ship followed, as the wind had been increasing during our visit.  Christmas dinner followed, delicious, with a few furtive vodkas chucked in and we all hit the hay pretty early still catching up on our sleep.

Boxing Day and our journey back was continuing to be very uneventful, the dire weather forecast given us by Darrel obviously a complete fabrication to try to frighten us.  We packed in the morning, Chris, Peggy and Stephen were leaving for Wellington first and it was very important that they carry out as much as they brought in as we were up to our absolute limit on the baggage stakes.  Trying to weigh bags while standing on a set of scales while the boat was pitching and rolling was quite a feat, actually trying to stand on the scales alone was difficult enough without a 23 kg bag on your back also.  Dry suits washed and dried, snow stakes divvied up and the baggage was set.

In the afternoon, Ross gave the ship a short entertaining presentation on our Spirit of Sydney leg, with Joy and Stephen working tirelessly on the photographs and video clips.  There was keen interest in our journey and a lot of questions were asked about it, including details of the knock down.  A job well done guys.  Dinner - more food, the previously roomy trousers were rapidly starting to get tight again and a day at the gym may be necessary  for the last day on the Vavilov. 

Posted by Mary

Update #11

23rd December into Christmas Eve!

Today started with my anchor watch which was actually quite interesting
and busy. Fending off the ice with a big stick and watching seals and
smelly penguins … I can think of worse things to do to spend the time
between 5.30 am and 7.

We then moved on to Paradise Harbour and Mary, Steve and Joy had a
paddle. The scenery was breathtaking and we were surrounded by chunks
of ice. First spot of Adelie penguins – apparently named after Queen
Adelie of France. Engine off and peace amongst the ice, great. The
paddlers carried on towards yet another base and we then motored towards
it too. Paddler switch then happened and Mary and Joy came back on
board and Ross and Ben started out. After a long paddle they reported
that they'd seen a leopard seal take out a penguin … if I'd been in a
kayak at the time I wouldn't have been for long! Had a go yesterday
though so that was good.

After a zodiac dance singing Jingle Bells which went down very well we
carried on to Cuverville and dropped anchor while the snow started … we
decided that today would be Christmas Day so that was very apt and we
are all wearing Christmas Hats and we've hanging baubles around the
boat. This morning we hoisted Santa to the top of the mast. His beard
is growing well and he looks the part. (That's Chris) Several photos
and a broken rope – sorry halyard – later we lowered him down. It
wasn't his fault the rope broke, honest.

We travelled amongst several squillions of penguins and watched them
porpoise and jump up off ice. You've got to be here to see it. It's
funniest when they try and jump out of the water and miss. Zillions of
photos later we dropped anchor behind the Australis Australis Santa
Maria Australis with their zodiac called Australis Australis … they will
conveniently shield us from the ice for whoever is on anchor watch – not
me, I did my time yesterday. We'll miss Dorca and Snow Petal.

Peggy, Chris and Mary decided to stomp up the nearest hillock in the
driving snow (?) and Chris had a bit of an equipment failure due to
Dazza's Dodgy Dealing Equipment dot com. Later we watched the guests of
the VodkaOffSki (our ship we are joining tomorrow) skip merrily up there
in half the time. Several excuses followed … owing to the weather and
equipment considerations. The Offskis just walked up in jandals (I'm
surrounded by Kiwis) no doubt.

Hey it's Christmas and after a few emails, a Kill Me or two – Quilmes is
how the Argentines spell the local beer - a fabulous BBQ and Christmas
empanadas which were actually our pince mies in disguise made by Peggy
(delicious), we actually have made it to now. Considering what we have
done it's impressive and we've had a fab time. Tomorrow we transfer to
the VodkaOffSki and we'll miss our wee Spirit of Sydney. Thanks to
Dazza and Ben, it's been great.

Posted by Jane (most people have called me Mary this trip but I'm not!!)

Darrel is now having huge amounts of fun because he's seen the weather
report for when we're across the Drake. Looks like we're in for a shake
rather than a lake for the trip back. Oh well, shit happens.

We are about to transfer to the Vavilov (popularly known as the
Vodkaofski) so will no longer be contactable at the GMN email address.
Will need to suss how we email from Vavilov.

Another Day in White Paradise

December the 22nd.

Today got off to a bit of a slow start because a couple of the crew were
a little bit squiffy after a good old night on the grapes.

After a hearty breakfast of porridge and strewed fruit we weighed
anchor, but not before sending a distress call to the Port Lockroy in a
vain hope that Mary's precious little red hat was there. It had been
declared lost after a thorough woman-search of the forward cabin. News
was that the item was not at Port Lockroy, so the said item was declared
officially lost amidst much sobbing from Mary.

We left in pretty good weather but soon hit a lot of ice, which
effectively blocked our path to Paradise Harbour. The sound of ice
hitting the hull is quite spooky, especially if you are huddled in the
"Head" (see how the nautical lingo is flowing now?) covered in Snow
Fairy shampoo trying to have a bit of a shower. Thoughts of a rapid
abandonment of ship did not bear consideration in such a bubbly state,
so all thoughts of Titanic Consequences were put to one side as several
days of accumulated grime were sloughed off despite the sound of ice
rebounding off the hull just 8 mm away!.

Our passage to Paradise was marked by views that just defy
consideration; views augmented by the thunderous sounds as glaciers were
calving. Sensory overload! .

The bread making challenge has reached new heights. Today's batch set
new standards for consistency and evenness of colour for the crusts.
This batch was voted the best ever cooked on the yacht by Captain
Courageous. The next crew, from Ireland, don't stand a chance in this
culinary competition.

Shortly after the bread was produced, Mary's precious red hat
miraculously appeared after a very short man-look. Well done Steve.

To be fair, this boat is like the Bermuda Triangle. Equipment
mysteriously goes missing then reappears in the spots carefully
searched, the same applies to items of clothing as well.

We finally arrived at yet another unoccupied Argentine Base called
something or other, where the dreaded kayaks were dusted off and I had
to undertake the kayak challenge. Thanks to Tim McGuiness in Wellington
for my training, but all was in jeopardy as I was particularly stressed
at the thought of this exercise in water just over 1 degree centigrade
and full of ice.

Imagine my horror as the call went out "Whales just behind you Chris,
Minke's astern… Then, rigid in fear, the swimming behemouth then
decided to swim under my kayak. Well, that was pretty much it for me.
After a couple of wobbly circuits of the fair ship Spirit of Sydney
(SoS) I high tailed it back to the sugar scoop and rapidly passed the
kit on to Peggy. Tick that box as completed.

Meanwhile, everyone else was roaring about but not treated to the
lifetime experience of being buzzed by a whale! There is no justice in
the world at times.
Today, we have kayaked, skied and snow boarded but the pace is starting
to take its toll. The relentless affect of long days (up to 19 hours)
is wearing us all down. But we still continue to eat well and have a
great time.

We are now tied up off a Chilean Base called Gonzella Videllaz (the
spelling of this is guaranteed to be wrong as Captain Dazza spelt this
out for me, so don't look for this place on the map). Here we have had
to anchor the boat with stern lines fixed to two rocks and an anchor,
due to a 3 metre tide range, nasty currents, some shifty looking ice and
other bad things that we can only imagine. This means anchor watches
again.

Yeh, so I'm on at 1 am to 2:30. But it will still be light and the
putrid smell from the large Gentoo rookery here will keep us all awake
while we are on watch!

While I have been laboriously hammering out this blog, the others have
been decorating the tiny 2m by 2 m cabin for our official Christmas Day
tomorrow. A riotous time can be guaranteed.

Posted by Chris.