As we left Puerto Madryn, Argentina Friday night, we knew there was no guarantee that we would get into the port at our next stop in the Falkland Islands on Sunday, due to weather. It is not unusual to have strong, and sometimes competing weather systems in this part of the ocean this time of year. In fact, that will likely be a theme for the next few days, and we were prepared for the fact that the itinerary could change.
Even if we made it to Port Stanley, getting to our excursion site for Sunday afternoon’s visit with the Gentoo (Gen-too like Gentle) and King Penguins at Bluff Cove might not happen, as the bad weather was supposed to deteriorate further in the afternoon, and our excursion was scheduled for 1:30.
Also, Port Stanley, as most of the remaining ports we will visit, is a tender port. That does not mean that it is kind and gentle. It means that we cannot park the ship (my friend Karen, a retired naval officer, must be so proud of my keen use of technical nautical terms) next to a dock and walk off into town. In tender ports, we ride in one of the ship’s enclosed lifeboats known as tenders, between the ship and a small dock. If the weather was to get too bad to allow the tenders to navigate and/or dock, the visits would be cancelled. Here is a picture of a tender in a calmer port.
Each morning (and at other times) the Ship’s Cruise Director makes morning announcements about various activities. Sometimes the Captain will begin the announcement, with information related to weather or events that may be impacting the progress or route of the ship, and such. At noon each day, the Captain provides nautical and meteorological updates, including location and time, distance, and speed to the next destination. If announcements are just routine, they are typically made over an intercom system that projects into the hallways and common areas, and can also be heard on a particular TV channel in your stateroom if you so choose. But if the information is deemed important enough that all need to be sure to hear, it will also be played through speakers in each stateroom.
Suffice it to say that from Friday night to Sunday morning, announcements were made directly into each stateroom. Apparently, two low pressure systems were colliding around the Falklands, and we were sailing south into them through yet a third system. Cool! It was going to get sporty!
Sure enough, beginning during the night Friday night, the gentle rocking of the ship that causes one to sleep so well began to increase to a more pronounced roll, with intermittent shudders and an occasional thud that felt like a nautical speed bump thrown in for good measure. The Captain later explained that we were experiencing something called “confused swells”, resulting from when the ship meets swells coming from two different directions simultaneously.
Because we are in an aft cabin (back of the ship) we get a little more motion than midship, but maybe not as much as those forward.
Our cabin is situated so that the head and foot of the beds point toward the sides of the ship. While I might prefer the opposite in calm seas to rock gently from side to side, I think there is an advantage to rocking head to toe in rough seas. At least I don’t feel like I will roll off the side of the bed! Of course, all the blood rushes to my head when we roll to starboard, and everything pulls toward the bottom of the bed when we roll to port. It’s sort of like getting a massage without going to the spa.
The doors and drawers all face – and open – toward the sides as well. Where we had been lightly closing the bathroom door, we now needed to ensure it latched or it would swing open – and SLAM shut. The closet door with the full-length mirror kept opening, then waving back and forth flashing reflected light like Morse code until it would apparently complete it’s message and close with a bang.
A lower drawer on a side table kept sliiiiiiding open, and sliiiiiiding closed, as did the curtains covering the balcony doors. We popped up and down through the night to put a suitcase in front of the closet doors, shoes under the drawer, and find what was roooooolling toward the front of the cabinet – and roooooolling to thump against the back – the bottle of Downey Fabric Wrinkle Remover. We finally had everything secured and slept for awhile, until the curtains parted on their own after sunrise, flashing a neon daylight wake-up call.
The confused swells and winds were whipping up 18 foot seas most of the day Saturday. But the crew added sea water for ballast to make the ship heavier and less prone to be tossed about, put out the stabilizers, and dodged as much of the worst of the weather as possible. We were still able to make a brisk 18 knots. The trick is balancing the need for speed to reach the next destination at the designated time, vs the effect of speed on the motion of the ship. The Captain mentioned in the morning briefing that it might be a good day to enjoy in-room movies, and he concluded all of his announcements with the words, “…and above all, stay upright!”.
Let me quickly add that on a ship of this size we were never in “danger” as defined by imminent threat to life or limb, but were more in a state of constant and vigilant caution when moving about. Most activities went on as planned, with the exception of the closing of the outside decks and the pools (the pool was kind of mesmerizing to watch as the water rolled and splashed from one end to the other).
We’ve seen worse than this and it may get worse later. The greatest desire was to follow the Captain’s admonition to “stay upright” and avoid injury.
The second greatest desire was to not be seasick. There is medicine you can take to help with that, but they say to take it before experiencing symptoms if you are prone to seasickness. I’m not sure how anyone knows they are prone to seasickness – until they experience the symptoms. So if you take the medicine just in case, and don’t get seasick, was it because of the medicine or because you aren’t prone to be sick anyway? Humph. And supposedly, most of it either makes your mouth really dry – or makes you want to sleep all day. There is a product called “Sea Bands” (and other brands) that provides a wide piece of elastic to fit tightly around each wrist with a small button-like piece of plastic attached. You place the button at a certain place above your wrist, and it acts on a pressure point to reduce or eliminate seasickness.
We have used the Sea Bands in the past if the conditions were sporty for a bit, with good success. Whether because of the bands – or because of not being prone to seasickness, who knows?? This time, because it was supposed to get even rougher on Saturday and be prolonged through the night, we each took a little of the generic version of Meclizine that I had read good things about. I have no idea whether it helped with nausea as I felt none, but I did determine that if I wanted to enjoy the rest of the cruise I needed to pass on taking more, as all we wanted to do was sleep!!
The weather stayed bad through Saturday night and beyond. We, of course, prayed for good enough weather to allow visits to the Penguins on Sunday. Seemingly miraculously, we made it into Port Stanley about 8:00 Sunday morning to partly cloudy skies. The weather deteriorated through the day – but I’ll leave that for the next episode. We did learn that the port had been closed on Saturday and a smaller Viking Line ship that was supposed to also arrive Sunday had cancelled. The man who ran the Tourist Bureau did not think our larger ship would make it, so was scrambling to get the farmers and retired folk in to town who drove and managed the tours because he didn’t think we were coming! We were very glad the Captain held the ship steadfastly through the storms. The experience itself, and the view at the end, was so worth it!
There are many analogies in the relationship between man and nature, and man and The One who created nature. Is this one too obvious? We know there will be storms, but we have technology that can tell us when, where, what type and provide warnings. We also have shipbuilders who can design and build ships to withstand some amount of those storms. We have officers and crew who are trained to read the charts and the winds and know the tolerances of the ships in those environments. If we didn’t trust the ship builders, the weather instrumentation, the meteorologists, the captain and crew, we would not board the ship to begin with.
Is it too trite to remind ourselves that in our sea of life, we also know there will be storms? We have history filled with examples that can tell us what to expect and provide warnings for us to heed. We have the Bible to tell us clearly how our Creator designed us to function in this world that He designed for our good, how to recognize and prepare for the storms, and where to go for shelter. And we have available the very presence of the Ruler of the Universe, who says He will hide us under His wings and place us on a solid rock so that we may rest in Him, and “stay upright”, without fear. The question is, do we trust Him enough to get onboard and let Him take us in His steadfast love, through the storms? If we do, the experience itself, and the view at the end, will be so worth it.
Rambing and rocking on…