Update on Found Plane

The authorities have said it is Argentinian, an Avro Lincoln Mk2, plane number B-019 which was flying from Rio Gallegos south, had 11 people onboard and went missing on the 22nd of March 1950.

Apparently the Chilean Air Force at the time did and aerial search over 6,500,000 Km of territory to find it but never did. Check us out on CNN

Lost Souls in the Mountains

The glacial ice creaks and groans, the stout windblown trees rustle from the incessant gales that sweep the area, and at the base of the glacier lie the souls of adventurers who flew in their airplane with a dream of success in Antarctica.

We have not been able to report to you all about the discovery that the team on Xplore made during this last expedition in the remote fiords of Tierra del Fuego (TDF) until now. We were exploring the bays and glacial basins off the arms of Seno Almirantazgo when one of the shore party teams’ VHF radio started calling back to the yacht with a squealed excitement.

Rodrigo had gone further up the glacial valley than anyone else and what he found after crossing the glacial moraine would open a wave of intrigue about what he had uncovered.

Lying at the base of the glacier, partially covered with ice and moraine soil were the remains of a large aircraft that had smashed itself to pieces as it had flown straight into the mountains.

Rodrigo's first reactions were a mixture of excitement and emotion as he relayed to the shore teams and Xplore what he was looking at. Touching and turning over pieces in his hands, the size of the parts lying there could not be taken lightly. The huge landing wheel couldn't even be lifted. The sections of the twin tail planes showed telltale signs of the type of craft, and the seat belt in his hand was rusted and of a design from many years ago. The huge propellers lay there, still with their yellow tips, bent and twisted. But the discovery of a parachute that he started to tug on, as it was partially buried, stopped him short in his tracks as he realized that there may be something on the other end of it, and the shards of bones lying mixed within the soil and ice could be …?

Rodrigo returned to Xplore with a few items and a lot of photos, his heartbeat was still erratic as the whelm of ideas and emotions were shared within the whole team. Where did it come from, what nationality, where was it going? Who was onboard?

Just over 24 hours ago, Xplore docked at the fishermen's dock here in the Straits of Magellan, Punta Arenas (Sandy Point). Waiting on the dock were five men from the Civil Aviation, Army and Air Force, who looked very serious. They waited until we had Xplore tied up and then the questions started to roll, on and on they probed Rodrigo about the events and discovery.

Late last night we received news that some possible answers were coming to light. During the Second World War and into the 1950's the Chilean and Argentinean Air Forces had used Avro Lancaster aircraft in the area, and we had evidence of Spanish markings on the plane’s fuselage. These planes normally flew in military operations with eight crew and had the capability to carry 15 passengers/troops.

Even though there had been no listed missing aircraft in this part of TDF, the authorities had received news that in the 50's two Lancaster aircraft had departed from Argentina en route to Antarctica. With extreme weather along the way, both had turned and headed to Punta Arenas to escape the conditions. Only one landed.

Is the twisted wreckage that we have found the other lost plane?

The investigation continues

~ Stephen

Don’t go to sea on Friday the 13th !!

When you are woken with a slam to the top of your head at five in the morning, it can take you by surprise! Your mind tries to quickly work out what the hell is going on. Am I sleeping with a gorilla which has just tossed me out of the tree, am I sleep walking and smacked into a brick wall

-- orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, holy shit Bat Man, the boat has just hit something.

Sure enough, the forecast winds for Friday the 13th had arrived and that was the start of a very memorable day, for all the wrong reasons.

The night before at the dinner table, Victor (Victoko by nickname) was joking about Friday the 13^th. He was suggesting all sorts of nasty things, but even as we laughed, I had a small amount of dread in the back of my mind. Maybe it was that I knew the weather forecast, or maybe with so many years at sea I am becoming a little superstitious.

Now back to that thump in the top of my head. Any skipper knows when their boat is in trouble, and as I flew out of bed in only my underpants and skidded to a stop in the cold rain and wind, my fears were a very real reality. In our little anchorage where we were tied with three 26mm polysteel line to shore, we had lost the rear stern line and Xplore, in the strong winds, had moved forward and touched bottom (hence the sudden stop and my head banging against the cabin bulkhead (wall). “Damn and bugger,” I muttered to myself as I quickly jumped down the companion way and started the main engine. I had to get the boat and the situation under control damn fast.

My crew were pretty fast behind me and I was thankful that one of them handed me my wet weather jacket, as standing there on deck, just about naked wasn’t going to help the humor of the day (or maybe the crew couldn’t stand to see me like that). Anyway, we quickly got the boat and situation sorted out and Xplore was tied up once again in these blustery conditions. I had felt the katabatic gusts during the early hours in the morning but an exceptionally strong blast, with enough force of leverage had actually torn the tree that our stern line was attached to, out of the ground. Well, there's a first in life.

With all that commotion early in this "Lucky" day, I needed an hour sleep before I could face the new day, probably more to let my nerves settle than anything. I faintly dozed and then "shaken but not stirred," we moved on.

So out we headed. The mission for the day was to survey three islands and check them for wildlife nesting locations. The SE winds had eased, but were still gusty as we turned the corner and headed back into Seno Almirantazgo. We moved along under motor at a smooth rate and life seemed normal. An hour later, we were reaching our first island, when crew Audrey informed me that there could be a problem with the starboard heads (toilet). Sure enough, I checked the toilet and it was blocked. I persevered for 15 minutes, trying everything under the sun to unblock it but she was buggered. In a foul mood, I stormed back up on deck, knowing that a full strip down of the pumps were needed.

After a smoko break, I headed down with a bundle of tools and started pulling it apart. Lo and behold, it wasn’t a shit that had blocked it, but a huge piece of Fuegan kelp had been sucked up into the water intake pipe and blocked it solid. “Well,” I said, “this is turning into a fine day,” as we started to rock and bounce a bit.

Back on deck, the winds had turned and turned bad, straight on the nose, and by the looks of the clouds poring in from the SW, this was not going to be a good day. Big cumulonimbus clouds, wind blown were flying along, and we were being pounded. With headsail out, we clawed our way up the Straits of Admiralantazgo.

Waves and water were pouring over the decks as the combination of wind against tide were giving us really shitty conditions, and those waves were getting bigger by the hour. This was going to be a very slow day. At the nav area, I was working away at a revised schedule and options of where we could go and be located by the end of this "Lucky" day, when all of a sudden I heard a “Sploosh” as I felt the boat lurch from another wave. “Oh shit,” I think someone heard me say as I rushed forward to the cabin areas, to find that two of the hatches had been closed, but not properly, and sure enough, we had taken a good dose of sea water into their areas. “Bugger, damn,” I spluttered, “what a fine day this is turning into,” as I crawled around the floor with a sponge and small bucket before all the seawater soaked into everything.

Hmmm, time for a cuppa (mug of tea) and a few ciggies (cigarettes). We continued with the rhythmic thump thump, splash splash as we tacked our way to the NW. Three more miles and then we could make the final 100 degree turn that would take us into Bahia Brooks. But along comes crew Julia who informs me that someone had left the head’s valve open and that the bathroom was flooded with salt water!

“!#$!^^^$%#&#&#&%#.” Yes, you can imagine I didn’t say nice things but hey, this was Friday the 13^th. The question was, what was going to happen next ?

We all sat quietly and kept our thoughts to our selves; we all know that "Shit Happens" but today was really taking the piss out of us. Like a cat on a hot tin roof, we waited and made sure that we checked and double-checked everything that we did and what was happening. We didn’t want any more of this game today, we had all had a gut full.

Quietly we slipped into our anchorage that evening, tired and in need of a good stiff drink. No other unexpected things happened that afternoon, but needless to say, the selection of strong trees were very good.

Xplore and the adventure here in Tierra Del Fuego continue.

~Stephen

Xplore arrives Ushuaia: 12 February 2009

ED. NOTE: Xplore arrived safely in port at about midnight 12 February 2009. After re-provisioning Xplore will depart Ushuaia, Argentina for Punta Arenas, Chile where guests will embark on a 10-day voyage through Tierra del Fuego.

Xplore Cape Horn Report: 12 Feb 2009

One foot on the table There is an old maritime saying that once you have rounded Cape Horn you are entitled to enjoy your after dinner drink with one foot up on the table - you can be sure that tonight all of us will be doing exactly that !! This, of course, means that we passed the rock, in the middle of the night as the sun still slept behind the horizon, with what I must say were mixed emotions. Although not fully visible, apart from the low light of the moon, I could imagine the moody rock laying silent witness to the sad fate of so many mariners and their ships across the centuries before us. In addition, also signaling to me that we all had had a safe passage across the infamous Drake Passage and I could go back to sleep knowing we were making our way towards the relatively safe passages and islands to its north and eventually our home port Puerto Williams in Chile. It was also with some deep thought that I knew we had left behind us four days ago the large sleeping white beauty, the Antarctic, brooding over its -- and indeed all of our fate -- due to the ignorance and mismanagement of mankind for way too long now. The return across the Drake Passage seemed longer than the trip going but even as a kid in the back seat of my parents' car, the trip home from one of our adventures always seemed the longest. Even as a total novice to this sailing lark I could tell that there was plenty to do and more than enough to keep the crew busy and happy. From the webbing on the head of the main sail giving way 24 hours into the passage, there was plenty to be done. From installing a new trysail, fitting a larger Yankee, to rigging the Spinnaker pole (you know, the ones that you see in the pictures of the boats in the Around the World races allowing the sails to balloon at the front !? :o>) and lastly, positioning the boat to take advantage of the very last puff of wind. As always, Stephen took all of this in his stride - although I must say his mini adventure to the top of the main mast -- in what I would describe as nothing more than a roped up swing saddle -- was the closest I have seen him to wishing he had trained to be an accountant for his chosen career. You know, as we all continue to push the boundaries of travel and in my case keep pushing the envelope with regards to witnessing and experiencing more and more off the so-called 'beaten track', I am personally guilty of ignoring or underestimating the personal dangers associated with this type of travel and the risk I may be exposing myself or my partner too. In a place where, for example, exposure to being in the open sea could measure your life expectancy in minutes, Antarctica is not a place to be underestimating these dangers. I think it goes without saying that when entering into such an expedition as this that you use a skipper who has both the experience of the Antarctic region itself (measured in years) and the maturity of years at sea in pretty much all conditions which nature can throw at you. For Sonia and myself, I can honestly say that we felt our lives were in more than capable hands at all times and my hat goes off to Stephen and his crew for their hard work and pure professionalism at all times. Cheers, James and Sonia

Xplore Cape Horn / Tierra Del Fuego Report; 25 December 2008

Sometimes you just know when you have "pissed" someone off, and it seems like it must have been Santa Claus! He must have eaten something pretty bad over Chrissy dinner, because in his passing wake of delivering presents, he has had a very bad case of wind which he decided to drop on our door step as we started to sail towards Cape Horn. The day started well with a nice breeze of 18 to 22 knots, dropped as we entered the notorious Bahia Nassau, and then slowly built again until the full force of Santa's farts peaked around the 60 knot mark. For many on board, the feasting and gorging on wonderful Christmas food has sadly been fed to the lovely fish that live in the area. With only nine nautical miles to the safest anchorage we decided to hove-to until the wind abates. The squall lines bring harsh downdrafts, but also such low clouds that in the narrow channels it is difficult and dangerous to continue. So with easing winds we will continue, and hope that our fine French clients will feel a tad better when we tie up in a snug little anchorage. ~ Stephen ED NOTE: Stephen writes that they spent Christmas Eve atPuerto Toro, a hamlet of just a few dozen people on the eastern coast of Navarino Island, Chile; it is presumed they will try again to round Cape Horn and possible land as well.