bark europa – Spans, a new life

A Sojourn in Patagonia, Punta Arenas

Europa drawfed by small coastal tanker and what I understand to be a private yacht as she sails out of Punta Arenas for Antarctica. The end of one story and the beginning of a new one.

Having parted company with the Europa I was to spend a few days in and around Punta Arenas before heading north for Puerto Natales (Chile) and El Calafate and El Chalten in Agentinian Patagonia which meant I was still in town to see Europa leaving on her next adventure. Completing the passage through the Straights of Magellan, across the Drake Passage and on to Antarctica. Was I a little sad to see her go and did I wish that I could have been with her, just a bit 🙁

The time in Punta Arenas was put to good use exploring the area and catching up with Emails and this blog. Having been established in the 1840’s as a penal colony the city soon grew in importance and gave creadance to Chile’s claim for soverienty over the Straights of Magellan. It became an important location for ships passing through the straights and, as with Stanley, became the grave yard of many of the brave old ladies when the southern seas finally beat them into submission. An influx of European immigrants driven by a gold rush and sheep farming boom in the late 1800s drove its further development to become the capital city for this region and, with a population of 100,000+, it is now the most populous and coldest city in the far south of Southern America. Today Puntas Arenas is one of the major gateways for trips to Antarctica.

Part of the rational behind Europa’s current circumnavigation was to celebrate Magellan’s similar voyage 5 centries earlier.

The city has a small city feel to it and is generally made up of one or two story buildings spralled over a large area. Many districts consist of what looks like poor quality housing and the general feeling is that there is not a great level of prosperity although there is evidence of considerable wealth amongst some sectors of the population. This disparity between the haves and have nots is one of the issues driving the high levels of civil unrest being experienced in Chile. Many business in town are boarded up with doors only open during business hours and locked down at night. Things do get a bit lively around the central square and adjacent police headquarters at night and these are quite close to the hostel where I stay. Generally the atmosphere is not particularly threatening although, on one occasion when things seemed extra boisterous, I chose a circuitous route back to avoid this area.

The internet café where I work (a Santander bank facility) has boarded up windows but they were obviously a bit slow boarding up the upper section.

Water canon outside of police HQ shows evidence of being subject to a respray by protesters which suggests that the suppression of the protests may not be as harsh as might be expected.

When walking around it is apparent that the local talent for painting inaminate objects has reached a higher level than that exhibited by the protesters with, as in Montevideo some impressive wall art.

Novel spin on giving your property a face lift

There, again in common with Montevideo, are a number of quite impressive bronzes around the city most of which seem to be dedicated to Magellan.

The seated Indian figure at the base of the memorial has a very polished foot – good luck charm?

Memorial to Magellan’s voyage on the sea front.

Escaping from the town 7 miles East into the hills behind takes me into Reserva Nacional Magallanes which is a forest reserve with a number of hiking trails and view points (miradors). Here I completed the main circuit of the reserve and then exited from the smaller Northern gate into the valley of Rio de Las Minas which runs down into the North end of the city. The reserve is mainly forested with just a few of the high points around the miradors being open heathland. The trees around the edges of the woodland where they are unprotected are heavily sculpted by the prevailing winds taking on pronounced leans and twisted limbs. Reflecting the air quality they are dressed in flowing lichen.

At the edge of a mirador the trees are scupted by the winds

Calafate, a fruiting bush synonymous with the region

View from mirador Zapador Austral over the city. Europa is berthed behind the large cruise ship – believe me, she is there.

Evidence that some of the current heathland once hosted large trees

These bright orange ‘eggs’ were quite common. They are soft to the touch and I suspect them to be some form of fungal growth.

Having excited the park I followed the track down through open land where there were locals herding cattle on horseback and others picnicking by the river. As the town was approached low quality but interesting housing could be seen alongside the track. I finally reached my accommodation approximately 5 hours after starting to walk, tired but invigorated – was good to get some miles in and the walk provided variety and interest throughout.

*The home associated with the 2cv. The roof ornament suggests a bit of a motor head, there was also an old VW Beetle on the grounds.*

The day was rounded of by a walk on the beach to say goodbye to the Bark Europa with the next target to get to El Calafate Argentina.

Down to the Deep South, The first 28 days.

A journey, after all, neither begins in the instant we set out, nor ends when we have reached our doorstep once again. It starts much earlier and is really never over, because the film of memory continues running on inside of us long after we have come to a physical standstill. Indeed, there exist something like a contagion of travel, and the disease is essentially incurable.

Ryszard Kapuscinski 2007

Travels with Herodotus

Above is a quote that I have copied from the official voyage log (which is excellent) produced by the two guides who were part of Europa’s crew. So, bearing this quote in mind and considering that I seem to have been suffering from the incurable disease since my teenage years, this is an effort to reflect on the impressions I take away with me from the latest remission. The first part of my current visitation of the terminal travel bug ended with leaving the Bark Europa in Chile after 28 days sharing the experience with a motely group made up of ‘voyage crew’ and the ‘professional crew’. Having previously introduced you to the ship and the places we visited this is now an attempt to reflect on my fears, expectations, experiences and conclusions.

This trip had been booked long in advance, indeed well before I actually took retirement from paid work. So, tied up with the trepidation of travelling into the unknow of sailing on tall ships into the lowest latitudes of the southern oceans (roaring 40’s, furious 50’s and ultimately screaming 60’s), there was the leap into the unknow final chapter of my life. As it was some time since I had undertaken any form of major trip I’ve had to reaquiant myself with all of the activities required prior to travel. One of the bigger challenges being to find insurance cover for a not so young traveller doing something that’s not quite the norm. But there were also all the run of the mill issues like, what to pack, how to travel to/from start and end points, payment methods in various locations, language challenges etc etc.

Along with these practical consideration there were the subtle mind games that your own psyche plays with you. Can I really do this, am I physically up to it, can I cope being cooped up with a bunch of strangers for 28 days, can I really survive sharing a small cabin with up to 4 others, how’s it going to be not being able to talk to MJ in a regular basis, will I be too hot / too cold, what if I get sick, am I really recovered from recent health challenges etc? Coupled with that there was the whole other level of phycological challenges associated with retirement, I’m no longer a productive member of society, I’ve lost the status / position in society that the job title gave me, I’m becoming a ‘has been’, can I really afford this, what does the future hold etc?

With a bit of time and effort all of the practical challenges were overcome (except, of course, in reality I took far more kit than I really needed).

So what of the mind games, firstly addressing the whole mental challenge of being retired. Well, honestly, this really has not been a major problem. Sure there have been occasions when agents have contacted be with the ‘our client’s are screaming out for people with your profile’ line and, just occasionally, the opportunity looks interesting and I might think maybe one more contract, would nice to be a responsible person again. But then I remind myself that life can be short and that there is no defined end game so I need to make the play when I still can. After close to 50 years in paid work it’s now time to spend some of the ill-gotten gains and live every day as a bonus which should be used to the fullest advantage.

Now, the first month of travelling. After British Airways’ best attempts to spoil the whole experience at the outset I picked up my connection in Buenos Aires and arrived in Montevideo in good time to join Europa. So first stressful step concluded and other than BA’s representative at Heathrow getting a full pram load of toys in their face, no heads ripped off yet 🙂

The quality of Montevideo’s street art will stay with me

First close-up view of the Bark Europa – The Boy’s Own image of a real sailing ship.

Were allowed to drop bags off on Europa in the morning but had to kill the day until 18.00 before boarding and then we sat alongside until the next morning. When all you want to do is get on with it this is rather frustrating but at least it’s a little bit of time to meet other members of voyage crew and to start forming some opinions.

However, firstly a bit about the professional crew, first impressions when dropping of bags, bright, young and cheerful. Later, on formally joining the ship in the evening, this initial impression was reinforced. Apart from the captain, first mate and senior guide they all seemed dreadfully young (policeman syndrome?) and predominately female. The mate was a bit older (mid 30’s+) and the captain (Klaas) a wizened old sea dog who could well have been a buccaneer in an earlier incarnation. The chief guide, Jordi, was a Catalan of indeterminate age. By qualification a marine biologist but seemingly in possession of an encyclopaedic knowledge of marine and terrestrial life forms, sailing, guiding, world travel and rock climbing all of which he seems to have a real passion for. As the trip progressed the initial good impressions were only to be reinforced. The crew proved generally (some more experienced than others) to be highly competent, dedicated, professional, tolerant and invariably cheerful despite having to repeatedly explain how things should be done to members of the voyage crew who did not listen and/or knew better.

Some of permanent crew enjoying a moment of relaxation

The Voyage Crew, my compatriots and fellows in crime. Throughout my life I have been a firm believer in first impressions and, from the very first meetings on the dockside and the first evening after boarding, it was very obvious that there might be one or two individuals that would challenge my tolerance levels and yes, I accept that on occasion my tolerance threshold can be rather low. The group were quite diverse ranging in age from late 20’s early 30’s up to their 70’s and a male / female split of approx. 75% to 25%. Mostly they seemed to be yacht sailors who wanted to experience tall ship sailing or those who had sailed tall ships previously and had been bitten by the bug. A common theme was a thirst for an elevated sense of adventure that this type of trip invoked. There were exception’s, myself, as someone with very limited exposure to sailing but some seafaring experience, a couple of guys who were there more for the marine/terrestrial nature / shore excursions but who did, to a greater or lesser degree, pitch in and help with the sailing, a couple wannabe passenger and one rather narcissistic individual who appeared to be primarily interested in how they could achieve the maximum personal gain from the experience. One thing for which I was thankful was that, of a total feasible complement of 46 voyage crew, we were only 26 up to The Falklands and 27 thereafter. Another God send being my cabin mates, two middle aged Michaels who were coincidently both Swiss (maybe not a nation you would associate with sailing) and a younger Dutch guy, Pier. All three proved to be very acceptable company. The Michaels had both sailed on tall ships before and Pier was a yachtsman so I was definitely the least experienced in the room.

As the trip progressed it became obvious to me that the only way that I was going to be able to complete the trip on equitable terms with certain individuals was to make the effort to avoid them as much as possible and, when this was not possible, to draw on all of my tolerance reserves and thereby maintain a level of civility. Although I am not necessarily proud of the intolerance that I thereby exhibited I believe it preferable to outright hostility and, when sharing my thoughts with others towards the end of the trip, I was relieved to find that my views were far from a minority.

Not surprisingly in a group of this size there were many personality traits exhibited and, as is my norm, I felt happiest when around those who appeared to be very comfortable in their own skins and just got on with it with out making any fuss. This trait was particularly appreciated when it came to the sailing of the vessel. We were all allocated to a watch and whilst that watch was on duty we were expected to lend a hand with the sailing. Also, if off watch but on deck it was appreciated if you were to lend a hand. As I’ve said earlier, within the voyage crew there was a range of ability and different levels of enthusiasm for the sailing meaning that some knew what they were doing or picked it up quickly and quietly got on with it. There were those who weren’t overly enthused by the prospect of hauling on lines and consequently tended to keep out of the way which, as there were normally more than enough willing hands for the task, wasn’t necessarily an issue. And then, finally, there was the group who thought that they knew what they were doing, exhibited a reluctance to listen to the advice given by the professional crew and in reality were frequently more of a hindrance than a help to the smooth sailing of the ship.

All of the above probably sounds rather negative so let’s try to add a positive spin. As I hope I’ve hinted at above, I got on fine with the vast majority of my fellow voyagers and those who listened to what was required and just quietly got on with things definitely earned my respect and admiration irrespective of their skill levels. Equally I consider myself supremely blessed as I never suffered for malade de le mer but I truly admired the spirt of those, who despite feeling rotten, tried their best to ignore this handicap and just get on with what was needed. Despite a certain degree of trepidation at working out on the yard arms (climbing the masts was easy but moving out onto the yards was achieved purely through will power and bloody mindedness) I managed to overcome my fears and decidedly wobbly legs and achieve a limited degree of comfort. The first time I worked at unfurling sails was for the Royal (one from the top) which is not only high up but also a pretty slim yard where the height of the footropes means that the yard sat at my hip level rather than stomach level (at this height you can more easily wrap yourself around the yard) making it feel very precarious. A lesson I took from this was that it would be better to start on the mains or topsails where the yards are more substantial and easier to work on. One of the youngest least experienced members of the permanent crew, Natalie, has my undying gratitude for the encouragement and advice she gave that allowed me to take these first tentative steps towards being, at least, of a little use up aloft.

Us jolly jacks were up aloft, aloft. Yours truly top left

Another positive was the real buzz experienced when we were under maximum sail (for prevailing conditions) running well through heavy seas. This was ‘real sailing’ where you get to appreciate the sympathetic attitude of a sailing vessel to the prevailing seas when compared to a vessel that is motoring. It was unfortunate that, due to the prevailing conditions and the necessity of meeting a schedule, the number of times that we experienced ‘real sailing’ were limited. As much as I loved the wild nature of The Falklands and their wild life I could not help but sympathise with those amongst us who felt that we could have spent less time around the islands and more time sailing i.e. using the wind more on a zig-zag course rather than using the motor to butt through the seas on a more direct course onto the wind to satisfy schedule demands.

But we did sail into some beautiful sunsets

Another positive I take from this was the whole Falkland Island experience. I had joined on a tall ship sailing experience and given little consideration to visiting the islands or indeed, what the islands were like. Probably, like many of my generation, my impressions of The Falklands largely revolves around warfare and yomps through a bleak unforgiving environment. What I experienced dispelled this impression. Granted we were there during the summer so saw them at their best but the locals, who were very open, welcoming and friendly, assured me that they are not too bleak even in the depths of winter. The landscapes were very reminiscent of the highland areas of England, Scotland and Wales which immediately recommended it to me although some might still consider it inhospitable. What may have been one of the endearing features that added tremendously to its appeal were the small working settlements on the various islands. These have been established over many generations and invariably nestle in hollows in the land adjacent to a natural water source and sheltered from the worse of the elements by belts of conifers and gorse (both introduced aliens). They are very welcoming (as are their inhabitants) and homely. I could imagine that I would not be to adverse to life in such a place. Added bonus, not to many people 🙂 This beautiful environment is complemented by the rich variety of flora and fauna, that with little natural fear of man, is very approachable. Although the opportunities were rare it was good from time to time to be able to stop, shut out all else and connect with the wonderful gift that wild places are.

Testament to a farming history and good air quality

So, to sum up what have I learnt from the experience. Well firstly, despite the feeling of becoming less patient, less forgiving and less tolerant of people as I grow older I can still make a reasonable fist of managing when forced into close proximity with a mixed group of people for an extended periods. I still have the physical capability and drive to take on new challenges and thrive through them. The dream of sailing a tall ship has been fulfilled and it fully lived up to expectation especially when we were sailing well through reasonably rough seas. That I am still very much of the opinion that you live and learn and that you can learn from anyone no matter their cultural background, age, or sex. And finally, as James, one of my fellow voyagers responded when I observed the life is good, it sure beats the alternative.

Have to admit after 28 days of help and mentoring from the fantastic crew members there was a bit of a lump in the throat on saying goodbye.

Would I do it again, if time and opportunity allowed almost certainly yes – might need more tolerance pills though 🙂

Down to the Deep South, Last of The Falklands and on to Chile

Clearing formalities at around 09.00 it was time to leave the big smoke and sail for pastures new. From Stanley the plan was to head South down the Eastern side of East Falkland visiting locations on the main island along Bleaker Island and Sea Lion Island. Thereafter, Punta Arenas Chile.

Plans don’t always go to plan. The first scheduled stop was to be Bertha’s Beach but, due to the high seas running, it was deemed not to be feasible to land on the beach so, plan B. Bertha’s Beach is effectively an isthmus of low lying dunes with the beach on the open ocean side and a sheltered harbour behind. Unfortunately the harbour is a Royal Navy base and special permission is required to land there, this was duly sought. Eventually we were given permission to anchor in the relatively sheltered entrance to the harbour and then use our Zodiacs to land on the sheltered back side of the Isthmus, a trip of 30 to 40 minutes each way. As it was already late afternoon it was decided to have an early dinner onboard then go ashore for the evening.

It was actually quite a treat to be onshore on another of the beautiful beaches for sunset. The lighting conditions were wonderful and there were a lot of natural sculptures in the san formed by wind and waves. Very few penguins but some small waders feeding on the edge of the surf, quite a refreshing change from the normal penguin and albatross fests.

More works of art from the supreme master

Heading back to the Zodiacs after a great evening

After re-joining the ship we relocated to a new more secure anchorage where we rode out the night before moving on to Bleaker Island, a low lying island that still supports the owners through farming activities supplemented by the tourist dollar. Another straight forward landing onto a sandy beach where we were met by the owners who gave the guides advice on where best to walk. Doing a loop through an area of Tussock we passed Rockhopper and Rock Cormorant colonies on some low cliffs and then on to a large King Cormorant colony on the gentler slopes.

Penguin egg for dinner – why the Rockhoppers aren’t keen on Skuas

Rock Cormorants and Sheathbill in pleasing geometry

Well I got a picture, don’t think he did

Sheathbills (a scavenger) flying towards King Cormorant colony

After anchoring off Bleaker next morning saw us heading out for Bulls Point on the main East Island. From the beach where we landed a circular walk took in a further beach where Sea Lions were to be seen then on up to the top of some shallow cliffs giving access to Rockhopper and Rock Cormorant colonies. When walking up to the cliff we were hit by a short sharp rainstorm with attendant rainbow and good lighting across the cliffs in its aftermath.

Ashy Headed Goose, hadn’t seen these before

Moulting Sea Lions. These are youngsters undergoing their first moult at around one year

As today was 5th December in the Dutch tradition Christmas gifts are given. To mark this occasion we were to have a Pink Elephant event in the evening. Over the previous couple of weeks we had all been labouring away to produce an anonymous gifts, these gifts were duly wrapped and placed in a sack. Names were drawn and the ‘lucky’ person got to select a gift and open it in front of all. However, when your name was drawn you did not have to take a gift but could elect to steal one that had already been revealed. Any one gift could only be stolen twice so the second thief became the permanent owner. The person who’s gift had been stolen then had the option of selecting a further gift or stealing another but they couldn’t steal back the one that they had just lost. This led to a very entertaining evening and there were some well crafted imaginative gifts to be had.

The plan from here had been to sail to Sea Lion Island which was to be our last port of call in The Falkland Islands. Unfortunately this plan was scuppered by two vagrancies of the weather, firstly it was considered that the sea state was probably to wild to make the landing but, more importantly, if we were to stay around the Falklands for the additional day required for this visit we would be arriving at the entrance to the Straights of Magellan when gale force winds were being forecast, not a good prospect. Accordingly next morning (6th Dec) we would set sail for Chile with the aim of being at a safe anchorage before the storm struck.

For the next 3 days, due to the fact that we were heading more or less directly into the prevailing wind, we were motor sailing with just jib and stay sails set to help stabilise the vessel. The conditions on this leg were predominately rough with snow and rain squalls blowing through and big seas running with us shipping a considerable number of waves leading to several very damp watches. On the 9th we arrived into the Straights early in the morning and proceeded into the passage in fine weather but with increasing stronger winds. Arriving at the anchorage where we were to pick up the pilot the next day we duly dropped both anchors in an attempt to hold position. This ‘sheltered anchorage’ turned out to be anything but sheltered with us taking the full force of the wind and waves resulting in the anchors dragging and having to run the engines a full ahead to hold station and prevent further dragging of the anchors. Fortunately, during the next day the winds moderated and we were able to take the pilot required for straights on board at about 16.00 when we then sailed for Punta Arenas under motor. With the wind and currents now actually with us we ran through the night making up to 12Kn and arrived at the Punta Arenas anchorage at 03.30 0n the 11th where we would remain until we went alongside next morning, effectively the end of the trip. To celebrate or arrival we had a BBQ on deck in the evening with all Permeant and Voyage Crew in attendance.

Thursday 12th saw us move into the town jetty where we cleared Chilean formalities and could then go ashore before coming back on board for our last night on The Europa.

Oil rigs at the entrance to Straights of Magellan

Still carrying a bit of sail into the straights

Giant Petrels had been with us throughout

Paul & Jordi remove the last of the canvas for the last time

Paulina enjoys a last sunset from the anchorage

Rubens (Crew) securing things up on the bowsprit

A man of trade joining as at the Punta Arenas anchorage

So the last of the first episode of my Southern journeys but there will be one more blog on The Bark Europa where I’ll try to sum up my thoughts and feelings about the experience.

Down to the Deep South, The Falklands V

Sat 30 Nov & Sun 1 Dec, After the night anchored off Saunders we hauled anchor at approx 04.00 (I had taken the 02.00 to 04.00 anchor watch) arriving at our next destination, Pebble Island, at approx. 11.30. Guides went to check out the landing beach and confirmed it to be viable for landings after lunch although, due to largish swell running, the Zodiacs would have to approach the beach stern first and we would be disembarking over the pontoons at the stern. There was a better than average chance of getting a dousing during this manouvre.

Pebble Island is so named due to the occurance of pebbles through out the island many of which are agates. These are collected by some of the locals for producing jewlery. We didn’t find any 🙁

Our walk here was from the landing point on Tamar Beach out along the cliffs of Tamar Point and then back round to the start. We passed a number of Malleganic, Gentoo and Rockhopper penguin colonies along with those of King Comorants. The highlights from an avairian stand point was spotting a hunting Peregin Falcon and a lonely Macaroni Penguin in one of the Rcokhopper colonies.

The stern first manouvering, guides in the water wearing dry suits to swing the Zodiac stern on to the beach.

Coming onto the beach – we all survived without getting particularly damp

Macaroni Penguin among Rockhoppers. Note the different colour and shape of eye tufts.

Although Macaronis do not breed in the Falklands but further South it is not unusual to find the occassional one amongst the rockhoppers, we saw two in total. Perhaps they also get fooled by the similar punk hairstyles.

After the shore party returned Europa set sail for Volunteer point which hosts the largest colony of King Penguins in The Falklands, this would be an overnight transit. Although initially undersail due to unfavourable winds we had to revert to motoring. When under sail Europa is sympathetic to the sea conditions and, although she rolls, pitches and heals to the wind she is a comfortable craft to sail on. However, when motoring she fights more with the sea and gives those of us sailing in her a harder time of it. I’d prefer to be undersail all of the time!

Paul and Pier, members of the voyage crew helping unfurl ready to leave Pebble Island

On arrival off Volnteer point it was deemed that the sea conditions were not favourable for a beach landing (apparently this is often the case) so we sailed on too Stanley where we arrived at approximately 09.30. I cannot pretend to be overly stressed by not stopping at the penguin colony as by this point I was becoming rather ‘penguined out’.