2/25 – Sailing Sarmiento Channel

Up an at’em early today – we have Brujo Glacier viewing early this morning and they are opening the bow for viewing.  No exercise for us this morning, as we are out on deck for a magnificent sunrise….

….and then out to the bow at 7:15am – and what a zoo review that was!  The line to get there was a million miles long – all down the deck 3 cabin hallway.  The poor people on deck 3 couldn’t even get out of their rooms!  Once we made it out there, it was jam packed. We managed to last out there for about 15 minutes, trying to get to the rail to get some decent pictures, but everyone was literally on top of you.  Argh. 

It was WAY too peopley out there!  Nope. Not staying.  I fought my way out of a 4 deep crowd – Ed wisely stayed back in the middle of the bow area where there were no people – and we made our way back to our balcony, with a quick stop in the buffet for some breakfast snacks and more coffee for our viewing.

I mean, really!  What were we thinking? The whole reason we booked this room was for the balcony and the viewing possibilities.  Dummies!  But after the early morning debacle, we were able to spend a lovely time outside, enjoying our peace and quiet – just the two of us.  And the glacier was stunning.  133 feet high and 2 km wide, it comes into view, nestled into a valley between the rolling hills and Andes peaks.

The weather is perfect, cold, but not overly windy.  The seas are like glass and the captain spends a lot of time edging closer and closer to the glacier, even pushing some pancake ice away from the ship

We end up staying at the glacier for almost an hour as he turns the ship to and fro for all of us to get a good view.  As we sit in the bay, we can hear the glacier calving, it sounds like a massive thunderclap.  We tried unsuccessfully to capture the sound on video, we never did actually see the ice coming off, just heard it, but regardless the whole thing was just fabulous!

The views continue as we slowly leave the glacier behind, from the deep green water swirling with floating ice alongside the ship to the amazing final view as the glacier as it slowly fades into the distance

And the views just continue on into the morning and early afternoon as we continue to make our way through the fjords channels on our way to Punta Arenas.

Beyond this, there isn’t much going on today.  Just the port talk for Ushuaia, which we don’t need because we are going on a tour, but we still faithfully attend because CD Ed is hysterical with the questions at the end.  He handles everything with this sardonic wit that just cracks us up. The Q&As are worth the price of admission!  Plus we go to the Rolling Stone lounge to watch the livestream version – where we aren’t slammed in with all the sickos on this ship. And even though we aren’t too close to anyone (we know where the best seats are away from the masses), we still wear our masks in there because people are hacking and sneezing all over the place. 

After the talk, I spend the afternoon blogging while Ed spends his time on the promenade deck walking – and stopping occasionally to take in the gorgeous scenery through which we are passing.

Next it is the gym, then afterward as we are in the Lido bar we pass the cargo ship, Captain Leonidas, that wrecked in the Messier Canal.  In 1968, the captain of the ship tried to deliberately sink it in an effort to claim insurance money, but ended up only grounding the ship – so no insurance money.  The ship has remained there ever since, and has allegedly even been used as target practice for the Chilean navy.   Great story – but even greater pictures!

Back on the balcony for our pre-dinner drinks we are rewarded with more beautiful fjord views.  Then it is off to dinner and tonight, the comedy/magician show which is quite good.  The comic says he’s been performing on HAL for 40 years!  No way – he doesn’t seem that old!  Regardless, his show is great and keeps us guessing about how he did whatever he was doing all night long.  And that is it for our evening.  Punta Arenas tomorrow.

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