As we exited King Haakon and into the Scotia Sea, the seas immediately picked up with roll and pitch heavier than anything we have experienced so far. In the lounge, the captain showed us the forward weather maps. We are heading, he said, into an intense storm and there is no way round it. We will experience 30-35kn winds - on the Beaufort Scale, this represents a Force 8 "gale; moderately high waves; crests beginning to break into spindrift; foam is blown in well-marked streaks". Melvin, our cabin attendant, strapped our coffee table under the desk, and taped up some cupboards. He also laid towels along our sliding door - we will be on the windward side of the storm and he obviously knows that the door will leak.
Later, in the early evening, we were amazed the see a beautiful yacht sail close by in the opposite direction. It was a single master, but had up multiple headsails and its main. It was racing to the shelter of South Georgia. We went to the bridge, and the officer on duty confirmed that he had talked to the yacht, and that it was headed for King Haakon.
The yacht we saw racing to beat the storm looked just like this image in our cabin.As we all made "going to bed" noises for the evening, motion sickness medication and ginger tablets were being consumed in bulk. Many changed their behind-the-ear patch.
It was rough overnight, but most people seemed to have made it to breakfast OK. Ship's doctor Joe Rizzi told us that you can "grow out" of seasickness, and it looks as though the passengers on this ship have gotten their sea legs and stomachs quite in order.
We were hit by the Force 8 gale and more. By midday, the captain had upgraded it to Force 9 Strong Gale, described as "high waves; sea begins to roll; dense foam; spray may reduce visbility". The view from the bridge seemed to match this Beaufort description pretty well, long distance visibility slightly obscured. From the bridge, the winds measure 45-50kn gusting to 60kn. Roll is 10-15 degrees, occasionally more.
"Foam is blown in well formed streaks."
The captain said that a wave is massive when it's higher than the bridge, as this one is.Captain Martin Kesser wants to do 15kn, but the wind and waves mean that at full power, the Orion is down to 9-10kn. We may be late into the Falklands. These must be the famed Drake Passage seas we missed in the Drake! The swells were daunting, and the waves huge. Often the bow of the ship plowed straight into a wave, causing a brief but total whiteout on the level 5 bridge and indeed the level 6 Observation Lounge. The lower level portholes were alternately fully immersed in the ocean and then high and dry. Someone described it as like looking into a front loading washing machine. Further up, in the nosebleed section, our cabin sliding door was often totally awash, and it leaked quite a bit. Melvin kept changing the towels. Every so often, a horrendous thump would come through the hull as the bow hit the water with great force, sending a shudder throughout the Orion. The captain said it would be worse if we had a flatter bottom.
Roll evident through the water soaked window of the 6th level Observation Lounge.
Yep, that's Dan taken from the safety and dryness of the Observation Lounge.At the height of the storm, we saw Dan go outside from the Observation Lounge to attempt some shots of the bow. Erin accompanied him as safety. They returned soaked and frozen - what the photos will look like remains to be seen. Soon after, the captain closed the outer areas of the ship until conditions improve. Maybe he heard of Dan's folly? [Postscript: Dan showed us his shots the next day. He made two sequences of rapid fire photos and converted them to an animated GIF. One was of water crashing over the bow, the other of Erin staggering along the walkway. He explained how hard it was to keep water off the lens.]
Evening saw conditions improving slightly as the light started to fail and we had to close the curtains to prevent bird-strike. Still a gale, but winds have dropped back to Force 8. The captain said he was pleased going to dinner - we were doing 12kn now.
This underwater map shows most clearly the oceanographic significance of going from South Georgia to the Falklands.Somewhere on this long sea crossing we have traversed to Antarctic Convergence, passing from the cold Southern Ocean into the temperate South Antarctic Ocean. As Tim Ritchies says, geographically, we have left Antarctica, but politically, we left it when we departed the Weddell Sea.
Overnight, conditions improved. The seas were still rough and the boat rocked but less wildly than yesterday. But the sun was out, a glorious if windy day, and we were able to have a BBQ lunch on the back deck.
Still enough swell about to splash over the bow.
A precious 1702 edition of William Dampier's journal of his world travels, on display in the Observation Lounge.It's roughly 900km from South Georgia to the Falklands, so this was the longest sea leg in this expedition. We are all pleased that conditions have improved. Richard, a young Swedish second officer on the Orion, said he was glad for the rough weather experience, but is happier that it's now behind him!
Hopefully there'll be no need to use the lifeboats on such a fine day.After a pleasant day including BBQ lunch on the deck, we sat at the Captain's table for dinner. He regaled us with unrepeatable stories of his experiences on other vessels to extreme areas, and with celebrities on his vessels!
Marvin served us at every breakfast and lunch, this time for the deck BBQ.
Guests enjoying sunshine and lunch on the rear deck.
Map showing the route from South Georgia to the Falklands.
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