Ryan's Journal

"My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops?" — David Mitchell

Southern Atlantic Ocean

Posted at 9:40 pm, January 3rd, 2004

We’re halfway to South Georgia, making about fifteen knots through surprisingly calm seas. I finally abandoned my spot on the bow, partly due to the cold wind and partly due to the fact that the bird watchers all hang out in front of the bridge on the top deck, and having ten pairs of eyes makes spotting the whales a lot easier. We saw several whales today, but none very close up. The birds have mostly disappeared, although we did get several albatrosses following the ship, along with a few other less-impressive species that nevertheless sent the birders into a tizzy.

During the passage I’ve had more time to talk to people, and the staff continues to impress — Rod Planck is a professional photographer who looks like a cross between Grizzly Adams and Lance Armstrong and will talk your ear off on anything from bird watching to eating his own road kill. His wife Marlene can finish most of his sentences for him and rolls her eyes knowingly at each of his jokes. Tim Davis is another photographer who I like a lot, probably due to the fact that he’s extraordinarily funny, friendly and knowledgeable. I’ve been trying to persuade Carter Cox to let me drive a zodiac, and while he’s still unconvinced about the idea he does agree that if Tim can do it, anyone can. Last of all, Doug Cheeseman is a barrel of energy, Ted Cheeseman is less boisterous but still energetic enough to have me ready to sign up for a future sailing trip, and Gail Cheeseman at first seems to be the calm center of that family until she shows up wearing a penguin hat or a captain’s uniform. We’re still sailing tomorrow, so more bird watching and hanging out with the staff to come.

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