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 in the Drake Passage: 11 Feb 2009

This morning a few thoughts from port watch which has hitherto been silent in the blogosphere ... One thing that is nigh impossible to convey to those not lucky enough to experience it firsthand, is the sheer beauty and exhilaration of being on a large fast boat with a balanced sailplan on a downhill romp (wind in the aft quarters) in the open ocean with a following sea. I have tried and failed many times, on this boat and others, to capture on film (or chip) the gracefully choreographed poetry of motion as the boat weaves its course ... the rig aloft creaking and groaning (or is it 'oohing and ahhing'?) as it powers up into the wind on the crests of large ocean rollers ... and then -- as if knowing too much of a good thing ruins the novelty -- it expels all this energy sliding down the waves in a gliding flourish, de-powering as it goes, ready to be held high on the next wave and sip from the cup of nature's force. Well my 'poetry' is of course drivel, but I was just caught up in the emotion of sunrise in near-perfect sailing conditions with something cultured like Chopin, which is playing gently in the background (someone else left it on, of course) at the nav table (although naturally I am spending much time outside enjoying the elements rather than the relative serenity - and warmth - that the virtual world has to offer). As the low pressure system we have been monitoring has moved over us it has gifted us with steady south westerlies ranging from 20 to 35 knots during the course of the last 16 hours or so. The sea-state has calmed considerably during the course of the night (not counting the 10 or so metre ground swell that is) and the boat has been powering along at between 8 and 12 knots consistently, with similar measure being made over ground. This, the best sailing of this trip so far, was delivered at the just the right moment, after more than a few watches of frustration at 'mixed' conditions shared amongst us all as we have waited what seemed like an eternity for weather predictions, and therefore our strategy to address it to play out. As Steve shared in one of his last communications, our frustration at the mixed conditions was somewhat amplified by one small spanner in the works: the mainsail headboard imbroglio (i.e. it busted). After a day of letting what will be be, I think this caper had the strange effect of energizing us, causing us to stand up and try and to do better with the resources immediately at hand: those being a big powerful green boat and some other flappy white things (well some of them are the sailmaker's yellow) to play with. And here we are: the flurry of activity yesterday paid off, and this morning at dog-watch changeover we are 120 nautical miles from our waypoint near Cape Horn, slipping steadily in the right direction, rather than 300 miles from that waypoint, crawling the surface of the Southern Ocean, following weather around as was yesterday morning. How times change, and they will again, and so we enjoy these moments while they last. This attempt at a blog is incriminating evidence. Better break free of the nav desk cocoon and spend some time outside or risk a bollocking from Steve. It is too nice out not to really ... One final fortunate note: some colour has returned to the faces (and appetites to bellies) of a few unfortunate Xplorers who have been rather subdued of late. A good thing ... [ED NOTE: At last report Xplore was 85nm from Cape Horn, with plans to sail directly to Puerto Williams and onto Ushuaia by Friday.]

Xplore in the Drake Passage: 10 Feb 2009

How much can a Koala bear? This morning whilst I was hanging in my harness at the mast head 26 meters above sea level and being thrown around like a rag doll, I wondered how many more years I can take this crap. My hands were already frozen as the ascent had been a slow and tiring climb, Audrey and Serge were on deck managing the halyard which was my lifeline but their faces I couldn't see; my total focus was getting to the masthead and recovering the main halyard so we could rig and hoist the trysail, which is a replacement (very small) main sail. Yesterday had been a long and frustrating day, where the only words I could say to my crew Audrey -- who has been sharing the same watch -- was that I was fractious. I had just received news early in the morning from my father (who was meant to have joined us on this trip) that my stepmother was about to pass of cancer within the next few weeks. For 25 years she has been with my father, and I have spent time with them a few times in Darwin: a lovely lady who had come into my father's life at the right time for both of them. So yesterday, even though I knew we had to make sail changes and recover the halyard, I didn't have the emotional or physical energy to face it. The sea state had still been very lumpy, but maybe that was just me convincing myself that it was better to just sit out and wait for smoother seas and a little bit of personal energy. So back to the masthead: I know some crazy people who would pay for the experience at a masthead at sea, like in a carnival showgrounds ride: you pay 5 bucks and get the hell thrown out of you. The G-forces are quite extreme as the masthead whips from side to side and then back and forwards in such an unpredictable way, you just have to hang on for dear life like a Koala Bear !! With legs wrapped around the mast you can only slowly go from each spreader to spreader, a brief spell at each point to grab your breath; as any longer and you would lose your nerve and merely make the freezing process stretch out painfully longer. My biggest concern was that my hands weren't going to be able to be used to re-attach the halyard to a short strop connected to my harness so that I could drag in back down the mast on my descent. Another deep breath and I was ready to move down, the insides of my calf muscles were humming, the lactic acid from being clenched around the mast as my prime means of holding on while I attached the retrieval line. Audrey and Serge on deck weren't sure what I screamed to them, with blank faces they didn't know if needed to go higher, or was I in trouble ... for me I just wanted to get the hell off this sideshow ride! Down I needed and fast, but not too fast as each part of the descent I needed to un-attach the retrieval strop and pass it around the spreaders, then re-attach it and move on down. As I reached the deck, my body and face just slumped, I think a cardboard box full of cotton wool would have been perfect, my body ached and was so cold but we all had got the halyard down. Now it was time to warm up and plan for the next stage of manoeuvres. With an hour we were ready to go. We cleared the forepeak and prepared the trysail, new lines run and other modified to do the job, we changed over that pesky main halyard onto the head and up she went !! Woooo hooooo, a different flappy white thing -- haven't seen that one before. Next we prepared to change the No2 Yankee headsail for the larger No1, new sail flaked on deck, halyard ready to drop, we all crouched ready to receive the smaller sail onto the deck. Down she came and we all went at it like Rottweilers in a butcher shop. I had seen a cloud line on the horizon which could bring some not-needed extra wind which would only make the process much harder, but within 20 minutes we had switched headsails and were back on course. Now the waiting game could continue. We have all been so bored in waiting and watching the movement of this large low pressure system that now we were ready with our new armoury and a plan, we wanted it now, but no such luck as the winds within the centre of lows are weak, indecisive, and fickle (hence why I have the time to write this). The plan -- if it goes to plan -- is that we should get good fresh-to-strong winds from the SW as the low passes over us. This should give us good speeds in the desired direction of Cape Horn and then our entry into the Beagle Channel, but for now only time will tell when the winds will come. More news to come ~ Stephen

** Xplore loses main halyard in Drake Passage **

Shit Happens Well what was a smooth departure from Antarctica, with a good breeze and forecast, soon became a very careful game of chess for skipper Stephen and his team. At 2325 first mate Audrey went on deck to trim the main sheet as the winds had picked up, we had already reduced the Yankee and were sailing with four reefs in when the unexpected happened; after only a few turns on the main sheet Audrey saw the world collapse around her, the entire main sail went 'bang' and started flapping like a rag, then dropped to the deck and boom. Stephen at the nav table heard the squeals from Audrey and quickly popped up on deck to see that the main halyard had parted at the headboard of the main sail. With flaps and flakes of sail piled onto the boom in total disarray, Audrey and Stephen proceeded to lash the sail to the boom in not-so-easy conditions. Blowing in the 30's, luckily the sea state hadn't built into the washing machine that it could have; we were still on the continental shelf of Antarctica making any strong winds the recipe for large seas. We hung on and tidied the mess on deck, the halyard was at the top of the mast waving around like a school kid up a tree, 'come and get me down.' it was calling, but for the night the top of the mast was where it was going to stay. We slowly thawed out below as any wind and water in the south makes for cold, cold conditions; even though Audrey and Stephen are more than acclimatised to these temperatures, more than 10 minutes on deck means your hands and faces are freezing. We sat and talked about what had happened, and Stephen started to look at the ramifications to the careful course planning he had devised for the crossing. The key factors that effect Xplore now are as follows: Xplore has 1.75 tanks of fuel left onboard (approximately 500 liters). With minimum engine revolutions we will still use approximately six liters per hour. The sea state is still too rough for anyone to venture up the mast to recover the main halyard, let alone carry out a temporary repair. Seas and temperatures don't allow at present to change the No2 Yankee to the slightly larger No1. We currently have winds above 21 knots that means that under sail we can make 6.5 knots of boat speed which is quite reasonable, we have planned on making a minimum of 140 nautical miles per day to be able to position ourselves in the SW corner of the next monster blow that is already starting to show its first stages of building to the west. Whilst pondering options and plans on their first day-time watch today, Stephen and Audrey were watching the winds speeds slowly drop, and as the winds dropped the boat speed diminished. We sat and saw it tumble 5.9 - 5.4 - 5.1 ... oohhh God ... 4.9 ... Stephen was staring at the wind gauge and began talking to it, 'Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh come on up you go Hewey! Please just a littler bit more, don't leave us this way, we love you and your strength!!!' Audrey by this stage knows that Stephen can be a little bit crazy but this was taking it to a new high: 'He's gone bonkers!' The next thing that Stephen said to the wind to encourage it was that he would sacrifice a 'Chocolate Hob Nob' to the seas as an offering !!! Audrey was mortified. Hob Nobs are the most prized cookies onboard, purchased from the Falklands -- we are already on the last packet, for Stephen to offer them away was treason. But always good to his promises, minutes later Stephen entered from the galley with one Hob Nob in hand and proceeded to exit the companion way and throw it to the winds and the sea. Audrey nearly wept: as a confirmed chocoholic this was terrible. We sat and watched the wind speed to see if Stephen's stupidity would work. 18.2 - 18.7 - 18.9 and then 19.1................ Yehhhhh, Audrey was gobsmacked, it had worked ! Our boat speed continued but if Hob Nobs were needed to continue motivating Hewey then we were going to need a truckload. We continued along, with average speeds enough for us not to have to use the motor and maintain a reasonable course. This crossing may be a slow one, more news to come ~ Stephen

Xplore departs Antarctica: 7 Feb 2009

A skipper's prerogative to change his mind We all were patiently waiting for the verdict on when we had a good weather window to depart the Pitt Islands and Antarctica. During the 5th it looked suitable for the next day, however fate and weather had their own cards to play, and on the morning of the 6th the GRIB files ( weather data file that show wind direction and strength, Gridded Reference in Binnary) told a different story. Not only did they show that a departure on the 6th would mean that we would have a strong blow mid-crossing, but it showed a monster low hitting the Tierra Del Fuego coast and Cape Horn with wind strengths over 60 knots. We had to have another plan. The next best option first looked like early on the morning of the 9th, so with looks of joy, we settled back down to enjoying Antarctica and the Pitt islands: team tobogganing races down the snowy slopes; zodiac cruising in an area which has a wealth of animal wildlife; and the chart survey team with Skipper Stephen continuing their rounds of the myriads of islands, trying to plot and chart this rocky mess of islands. By mid-morning of the 7th, we saw a change in forecasts and were able to make plans for a revised departure late in the day. Most of the boat preparations had already been done so some last minute extra 'sea-going food' was prepared. James and Stephen finished off the charting needed, with final depth soundings of the enclosed anchorage that Xplore had sat in for three days, as the entrance to this cove is probable the tightest that Skipper Stephen has taken Xplore or any other yacht through, and the soundings were to prove invaluable -- with forecasts of slightly stronger winds in the afternoon, we needed to position Xplore with precision, as water colour with wind on it doesn't show the hidden depths. With a plan, the entire team -- the shore line crew, zodiac crew and depth spotters -- pulled off a flawless exit. Xplore slipped through the narrow gap (15 meters wide) which has an 80 meter glacial overhang looming to tumble on one side and about fpur meters within the water for sideways tolerance ... you could hear the collective sigh of relief and the un-clenching of butt cheeks as the depth sounder started to rise and we emerged into deeper waters. The next hour was spent doing the final preparations for the Drake Passage. Zodiac deflated and stowed, shore lines away, anchor removed and everything 'ship shape' on deck and below. With winds in the low 20's from the NE we hoisted our main sail with three reefs and slipped away from this magical place. Soon the ocean swells and the heeling of the yacht took their toll and the happy faces of life on a flat horizontal plane started to change. The faces slipped away to their cabins as they knew the best position for getting your sea legs is in bed. Xplore and her core crew settled down to life again on the ocean waves. More news to come as we head north. ~ Stephen PHOTOS RICHARD LARONDE

Xplore in Antarctica: 6 Feb. 2009

Ed Note: Xplore was scheduled to leave Antarctica at 0500 6 Feb., however the weather was forecast to be on the nose for most of the passage, and up to 60k off Cape Horn, so Stephen has postponed departure up to three days. More to come.

Xplore to Antarctica: 19 Jan 2009

Green Flash Myth from Jules Verne's stories says that those who have seen the green flash are empowered with the ability to look into their own hearts and to be able to recognize true love ! If that's the case then why - after seeing the green flash four times in my sailing life - is it that I am still single ?!! Oh well, maybe it's because I spend too much time at sea. Anyway, last night at sunset it looked possible that we might see the green flash, however it didn't occur as there was low cloud on the horizon. This morning though, at 5.20am; myself and first mate Audrey were doing the Dog Watch, and low and behold as the sun was rising giving a beautiful painting of reds across a stratocumulous sky, I was looking intently on the horizon and there we both saw the instantaneous green flash milliseconds before the top rim of the sun broke through. It happens because the earth's atmosphere acts as not only a "lens" but also as a "prism" to the light rays and the colours that are transmitted from the sun. Red is a long wave light that has the greatest distance, hence why you always see reds in the sky at sunrise and sunset. Green and blue are short wave colours with blue being the colour which is seen most at high mid-day sun and least at sunrise / sunset. Green though holds its own and if the conditions are crisp and clear then the light of green can be seen as the sun rises or breaks, normally only at sea. Why is it seen as a flash? Well because red and green are at two different frequencies there is a split second difference between the two light colours, effectively giving a green and red sun. More news of our travels soon ~ The team onboard Xplore

Xplore to Antarctica: 17 Jan 2009

Swing low, sweet chariot Xplore departed Puerto Toro on the eastern side of Navarino at 1100 hours local time [17 Jan 2009] with still fresh to strong winds from the back side of the low depression that has swept the coasts of Tierra Del Fuego. All onboard seem to be in excellent spirits as we head on a course of 142 degrees true to make our landfall in the Antarctic archapelago of the South Shetland islands. Winds are due to swing more to the west during the day and during the next 36 hours ease. At present we are still experiencing squally gusts of hail as the clearing cumulonimbus clouds race through across the southern skies. Boat speeds are in the mid to high 8 knots as we are not trying to push the boat hard, but just try to let everyone onboard settle into life at sea: no one wants to be a buckethead, so the easy start approach is best. More news soon. Stephen

Xplore underway to Antarctica: 16 Jan 2009

Writing about the preparation and the work that goes behind an Antarctic expedition can take time, but needless to say that it doesn't happen overnight. XPLORE has been based in the port of Ushuaia, Argentina for the last nine days. readying the boat for the passage from South America to cross the Drakes Passage. Our main concern in the big picture of things is what the weather is doing and what are the ice conditions, in the Drake and on the continent of Antarctica. This season stated with large amounts of ice being present in the south with vessels having difficulties with how far they could go south, The cruise ship Ushuaia ran aground and holed her hull early in December, leading to a full evacuation of their passengers, with the Chilean navy coming to their rescue to tow the damaged ship back to safe waters of South America. And sailing yachts that ventured south in December had tough ice conditions: some trips returned early as it was hard to get into the safe anchorages that are normally used for small craft. All in all weather systems have been tough early on with high winds, snow and icing during the start of summer. Luckily, news of changing weather, and the commencement of more stable summer weather started to come through with some vessels sending reports of long sunny days and higher temperatures in late December and early January. For us, our team of people all came together to Ushuaia, mid-January with our departure planned from there on the 15th. For days I had been closely looking at the weather prognostics for a good sailing window that we could leave on ... there was one on the 11th ... another on the 13th (lucky hey !! ) ... but for the 15th there was and still is no joy. With everyone onboard, safety briefings completed, and customs cleared with Argentina; we slipped our lines from the dock and headed east along the Beagle Channel to the military port of Puerto Williams (PW) in Chile. We headed to Puerto Williams for two reasons: the forecast for a savage low pressure system due to hit Tierra Del Fuego during the night; and the other, that late to join the team is a couple from New Zealand and the UK -- and one of them (James) has been there in PW, as Sonia had come to Ushuaia to pick up final personal clothing and gear supplies for the expedition. Sailing the Beagle when its good is a joy, and the trip to PW was magic sailing. But fresh breezes from the north, which prelude the changing weather conditions, hung heavily in my mind as I watched the barometer drop all day. At 730am the Bar was 991, by midnight it was 962 -- 29 millibars in one day. We entered PW and cleared customs and immigration into Chile, probably one of the fastest turnarounds with paper work because we needed to get a new Zarpie (permission to weigh anchor) from the Navy department so that we could continue navigating in their waters. With the forcast looming, we cleared PW as I feared they would close the port for potentially two days -- possibly more if the intensity of the low was blocked into a stationary pattern. Chillean forcasts only reinforced what our weather systems onboard had been telling us, N to NE winds 45 to 50 knots shifting during the night to S to SW 60 to 70, with gusts predicted into the 80's. The last thing I needed as skipper was another 23 nautical miles of travel at night to round onto the eastern side of Isla Navarino ... and when you smell the aromas of the Thai green chicken curry bubbling away on the stove, the saloon all warm and a half-finished Heineken beer on the side bench, who would want to move? But move and travel we did, to the tiny fishing settlement of Puerto Toro (PT), the most southern settlement in South America. We motored and ate excellent food as the Beagle Channel continued to lull us into the false image of peace and tranquility. Lines went onto the dock in PT at 2355 and the port Navy personal kept the generator on for 10 minutes longer to give us light on the dock. The night remained calm, no wind, nothing. We sat on deck and enjoyed a laugh and a bottle of wine, sleep came over me and I slipped off to the warmth of my duvet. 650am woke me with the boat rocking at the dock, side to side with not so smooth a motion ... nature called and I rose to check on conditions: wind gusts were tossing us at the docks and the shift to the South / SW had come through. No one is moving today -- not XPLORE nor the other two yachts who had snuck onto the dock for protection during the night and early morning. Everyone has the same idea, 'Dont go to sea!' We sit, relax and wait Stephen

XPLORE to Antarctica: 15 Jan 2009

STAY TUNED for dispatches on our 28-day voyage departing from Ushuaia across the Drake Passage, with ample time to explore the Shetland Islands, Antarctic Peninsula. Unforgettable vistas and wildlife.

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.