Our afternoon sailing in Antarctic Sound was a befitting farewell to this magical land. Patches of blue sky broke through a grey-white cloud cover, colossal drifting tabulars dwarfed everything in their shadow, including our vessel, rafts of Adélies – thousands of them – skimmed and splashed their way across the sea surface, orcas in pursuit, and a bitingly cold wind was a constant reminder of our locale and our vulnerability in the face of nature.
As we left Antarctic Sound and entered the Bransfield Strait, the thinning field of ice shimmered, reflecting back the yellows, pinks and oranges of the setting sun. Over time, our final glimpses of bergs and ice-clad lands will merge with our first impressions of Antarctica and with all of the wonderful days in between. The rich memories we sail away with are precious. They will become fixed, cordoned off from the elements and experiences of everyday life. They will never abandon us but will radiate light and warmth and joy whenever we wish to access them. Antarctica will be with us for all time.
