Towards the Falklands, December 30, 2002

Land is nowhere to be seen anymore. Surrounded by water we're crossing open sea towards the Falklands. A stiff breeze is blowing and the waves are considerable. What will today bring? Will we be susceptible to seasickness? At least last night went fine. Although the ship was rolling quite a bit we slept very well. So far, so good.

A tilted horizon due to the rolling of the ship Breakfast passes without trouble and we're heading for some mandatory lectures about the use of zodiacs and the procedures around landings. With the lecture room only half filled it becomes clear that many of our fellow travelers have more problems with the waves then we have. Half way the lecture I feel a weird feeling in my stomach. No time to get to our cabin, no toilets nearby so the only option is the stern of the ship. Behind me I hear similar sounds from the other side of the deck. Several lectures are canceled during the day.

A giant petrel gliding above the waves In the afternoon the weather improves. The wind drops, the rolling becomes less pronounced and even the sun appears. Standing on one of the outer decks we watch albatrosses, petrels and other seabirds flying by. It's beautiful to see them glide just above the waves. Sometimes they even seem to touch the water with their wingtips.

Tomorrow we'll reach our first destination: New Island.