One thing working in Antarctica has taught me is that plans and people need to be flexible. We were scheduled to set sail on Friday, October 26. Upon returning from our trip to Torres del Paine, we learned that our departure would be delayed a day so we could rendezvous with another research vessel. On that ship were scientists that needed to go to Palmer Station with us. Their schedule had gotten altered after encountering heavier than expected ice, a cruise that started in August.

So, we spent an unexpected, additional day in Punta Arenas. Hurry up and wait is a common phrase in this line of work.

Once we finally shoved off Saturday morning, our ship, the RV Laurence M. Gould (LMG) headed east, gently swaying through the Straits of Magellan and then easily rolling down the coast of Argentina.

Accompanying our ship was a modest tailwind, soaring black-browed albatrosses that flirted with wave crests and Commerson’s dolphins porpoising on the bow wake. Sunny skies invited reading and birding on a wind-free deck spot. The LMG — as all other research vessels I have been on — lack proper deck chairs.

Following a short sashay through the LeMaire Channel between Staten Island (Isla de los Estados) and Cape Horn, each affording both our last look at terra firma for a few days and greenery for a few months, we sailed out into the open waters of the Drake Passage.

The Drake Passage has notorious reputation for being the roughest waters in the world. It is the only stretch of ocean on the entire planet where there is no land mass paralleling it. Without land masses to break the wind or waves both can build to impressive magnitudes. I have experienced (I hope) the extent of its extremes: a kind and gentle flat calm Lake Drake and a roaring, furious, tempestuous Drake Pandemonium!

The main activities on a Drake Passage crossing, conditions permitting, are eating, sleeping, reading and watching videos. Characteristically, overcast skies and wet conditions are not conducive to leisure time on the deck. Whether or not a passenger needs three full meals a day, most do show up for the prescribed meal hours. Dining is considered social event and typical conversations revolve around movies watched, hours slept and what the next meal and movie will be.

I try to spend time in the ship’s gym burning off steam going nowhere on a stationary bicycle or treadmill. Such activities can be quite challenging if the seas are anything but calm. If there are no exercise facilities I may walk up and down the nearly vertical stairs common to ships for long periods of time in order to work up an appetite for the next meal!

My very first Drake crossing, on the wooden hulled RV HERO was quite memorable. The Drake would be moody on our first day out and memory recalls modest waves of five to 10 feet during the morning and afternoon.

It was close to the dinner hour and hungry passengers and crew were crowding into the common area, which served as dining room, TV room, and additional bunk space. The assistant cook had just placed a large stainless steel bowl of fresh greens and tomatoes on the red-and-white checkered clothed table and returned to the galley. At that moment the Drake slammed a big, frothy swell against the hull.

In an instant passengers were catapulted out of the starboard side bench seating. Bungee cords strained as the attached chairs plunged beneath the table, threatening to impale the legs of those pressed against the port side bench. The salad was tossed into midair, the green leaves and tomatoes fluttering down like confetti and the bowl, now a cymbal, resoundingly crashed into a metal support.

The laws of physics require an equal and opposite reaction. The passengers and furniture repeated the action in reverse but fortunately not as violently. We learned that initial roll registered 44 degrees on the inclinometer. Inclinometers measure the roll of the ship with zero being no roll at all. The maximum reading is 45 degrees!

This was only the beginning of the Drake’s unleashed fury. Later that night the waves were routinely crashing over the icehouse, the uppermost enclosed part of the ship, three stories above water level. The HERO would be so pummeled for the remainder of the two-day crossing before reaching protected waters.

The majority of my crossings were aboard the larger steel hulled RV POLAR DUKE, which had ice-breaking capability. During this ship’s first wintertime cruise (August), we encountered rough conditions similar to those described above.

We crashed headlong into heavy seas, many waves breaking over the four-story top deck. High winds drove snow into the bridge windows faster than the wipers could handle. For hours we pitched and bucked like a bronco and as it was winter and the air temperature sub-zero, accumulated a lot of ice on the bow.

The excess weight of that ice was a potential danger. The captain decided of all things to turn the ship around and head back into the Drake! The next morning was sparkling cold but wind free and we spent several hours chipping away the inches of ice enveloping the bow before heading south on calmer waters.

My last crossing in 1992 was aboard a tourist ship. The accommodations were luxurious relative to research ships and included deck chairs — with blankets even. The Drake smiled sweetly during this entire transit and permitted many meals al fresco on the window-lined, semi-enclosed dining area on the back of the ship. In the afternoon I could sip hot tea and savor fresh baked cookies while the Drake lapped at the hull.

This most recent crossing, number 24 for me, falls between the described extremes. The LMG did rock and roll quite a bit but all things considered it was a pretty tame crossing. Passengers were not turning green with seasickness or confined to their bunk with malaise.

The main activity — eating — was not affected too much. Only two meals required a little extra coordination and balance. The rubberized place mats on the tables prevent plates from sliding around and allow one hand for eating and the other to stabilize a drink glass so it won’t tip over as we rolled to and fro. Passing condiments to a diner several seats away provided cheap entertainment in our rolling cafeteria. Soup would not have worked at those meals though.

As for the other hours of the day, passengers watched videos sometimes with fresh microwave popcorn, slept, read and then showed up for the next meal on time. See Chuck’s entry for a description of how our volunteer science activity was affected by the rough seas and photos of the ship.

This Drake Passage crossing had two notably rough moments. Several passengers, self included, slept through the first one. Apparently, late the second night in the Drake there was a rather wild stretch of water. The next morning at breakfast fellow passengers reported that objects were tossed about cabins, bowls of fruit and canisters of nuts tumbled to the galley floor, the books and videos in the lounge were ejected from shelving. My cabin it seems was in a quiet little eddy, nothing was out of place, including me in my bunk!

Later in the afternoon, the second notable incident occurred. The ship took a good, fast roll to starboard. The sudden motion upended chairs in the lab where I was sitting and spewed snacks and a sugar container onto the galley floor. We were later told that the roll registered 25 degrees on the inclinometer. That apparently matches the record roll to date for this vessel.

Typically, about 2.5 days after waving goodbye to Cape Horn, a ship can be in more protected, calmer waters. We sailed from port on a Saturday, were in the teeth of the Drake Passage Monday and Tuesday and by the mileage should be at Palmer Station by noon on Wednesday.

Oh but remember, flexibility is the key to life in Antarctica. The protected waters we sought turned to a near solid blanket of ice by mid- morning. At 10:00 Wednesday morning (editor's note: October 31, 2001) we were within sight of Palmer Station, less then 10 miles away, but by 2 p.m. we had pushed, shoved, backed up, and inched ahead only two miles. When will we get to Palmer Station? Stand by.

Until my next entry: hurry up and wait!