We’ve Arrived
We’re back in Stanley. We’ve arrived in the Falkland Islands / Islas Malvinas.
Our time in South Georgia is behind us. Four weeks together and 2,280 nautical miles in our wake.
Early in the morning on October 25, we weighed anchor in Right Whale Bay in South Georgia; this morning, after eight days and nine nights, we moored at the pier in Stanley. We were greeted by three resident fur seals, who acknowledged our arrival with nothing more than a brief glance and an indifferent snort.
Crossing
Eight days at sea, most of them gray and rough, the sea rarely calm, sometimes wild. Often very windy, with speeds frequently around and above 30 knots. Winds between 30 and 60 degrees on the bow. From the southwest, west, and northwest. The resulting course took a detour, a wide arc to the northwest. Sailing about half the distance with the bow to starboard, and the second half—after a tack—with the bow to port. It’s exhausting to move around on board, to cook, to sit, to steer, to simply be there… always at a steep angle, going up or down, constantly searching for a firm foothold, being tossed back and forth in the bunk at night, or hanging uncomfortably in the leeward sail. Bruises and bruised ribs are also part of the deal.
The sky was almost always overcast, the nights pitch-black, with no stars and no moon. Sailing in high swells in complete darkness was a challenge—anticipating the course was nearly impossible.
After crossing the convergence zone, the weather became a little milder with each passing day. The frosty nights were a thing of the past. It was wet time and again—though rarely from above; for the helmsman, it was usually a steady shower of spray washing over the bow.
Once again, a few people were hit hard by seasickness at the start of the crossing, but fortunately, after two or three days, most were back on their feet and ready to go.
Despite the sometimes strenuous and challenging sailing, there were also some quiet moments—the kind that arise from being on the move for days on end and following daily, repetitive routines without much else going on. During those moments, opportunities arose for conversation, reading, or playing the guitar.
We had wonderful encounters with wildlife; we were frequently accompanied by seabirds, including even the large wandering albatrosses. And each time, it was a special experience all over again. Every now and then, individual seals or penguins would appear right beside us. And on several occasions, we spotted dolphins that—traveling in groups—accompanied the ship and rode its bow wave. Magical.
Yesterday evening, after days of gray skies, blue skies and sunshine finally appeared in the afternoon, bringing color, light, and warmth. They transformed the sky and the sea into a radiant, glittering spectacle of warm gold as the sun sank into the water in the evening, marking the end of our last day of sailing on the open sea.
The next morning, the spectacle repeated itself as the sun rose once more. In between, a starry night—clear, cold, full of shooting stars—a time for making wishes. A moment to pause, a touch of sentimentality, a hint of farewell hung in the air, even if “only” the South Georgia chapter was coming to an end. We still have three weeks in the Falklands ahead of us. And yet this feeling is taking hold—coupled with gratitude.
And the farewell is—at least to some extent—a reality: Darek will fly home the next morning and, due to time constraints, will no longer be joining us in the coming weeks.
Stanley
Once in Stanley, everyone is happy to have made it, to have arrived, to take a break, to have solid ground under their feet, to be able to stretch their legs … and—after the usual immigration procedures and paperwork—they scatter, either alone or in small groups.
We’re lucky—after a heavy hailstorm to start things off, the sun shines from a blue sky for the rest of the day, putting us in a springtime mood. The daffodils and narcissus currently in bloom here leave no doubt about it.
Walks, shopping trips, sitting in a café, drinking a cappuccino, writing postcards … and a long, hot shower set the tone for the rest of the day, just as much as the usual and necessary tasks on a boat: cleaning, tidying up, airing out, making repairs …
In the evening, we all go out to dinner together, raise a toast to the wonderful weeks we’ve had so far on this trip, share memories and stories, and say goodbye to Darek.
We’ll stay here for a day or two before continuing our journey here in the Falklands.
We’re curious and looking forward to what’s yet to come.