Cape Horn is the rocky, southernmost headland of the Tierra del Fuego archipelago in southern Chile, located on Hornos Island within Cape Horn National Park. It marks the northern boundary of the Drake Passage and the meeting point of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. Historically vital as a major global shipping route before the opening of the Panama Canal, the cape is notorious for fierce winds, massive waves, and treacherous seas. Despite overcast skies, it was a sight for sore eyes, marking the end of our Drake Passage crossing. According to expedition team members, it was the most difficult crossing they have ever experienced. The photo below, taken from 3 miles offshore, includes two landmarks. On the left is the Cape Horn Monument, also known as the Albatross Monument, a 7-meter-tall steel sculpture that honors the estimated 10,000-plus seamen who lost their lives attempting to round the treacherous waters of Cape Horn. On the right is the Cape Horn Lighthouse. Click on the image for a better view.

By late afternoon, we entered the Beagle Channel en route to Ushuaia, our port of disembarkation. As we entered the channel, we met up with the Magellan Explorer’s brand-new sister ship, the Magellan Discovery, returning from her maiden voyage. Foghorn greetings were exchanged as we positioned to sail down the channel side by side.

As a special bonus, we were greeted in Beagle Channel by a pair of dolphins and a black-browed albatross flying just above the water.

The opening ceremony for the 2026 Amputee Soccer World Cup was held yesterday in San Juan de los Lagos, Mexico. Today, the US had its opening match against Uzbekistan, the returning third-place finishers in the 2022 World Cup.

In a major upset, the US team, ranked 15th in the world, defeated the reigning bronze medalist by a score of 2-1. The US scored first on a direct kick taken by Nico. The goalie could not hold on to the blistering shot, dropping it in front of the goal for a tap-in by Vasu. Late in the first half, the Uzbeks equalized. The score stayed tied well into the second half, when an Uzbek player was ejected for a second yellow card. With a one-man advantage, we turned the pressure up and Musa scored with less than 2 minutes on the clock.

We had hoped to watch the game on one of the ship’s big-screen TVs, but passengers are effectively in lockdown until we traverse the Drake Passage. Swells up to 8 meters make walking across the cabin a dangerous proposition, let alone in any other area of the ship. For this reason, all public areas and decks are closed off until the seas become calmer. It would not be an adventure without some duress.

The Drake Passage is the body of water located between South America’s Cape Horn (in Chile) and the South Shetland Islands of Antarctica. Named after the 16th-century English explorer Sir Francis Drake, it connects the southwestern part of the Atlantic Ocean with the southeastern part of the Pacific Ocean. Because no significant landmass interrupts the winds and currents at this latitude, it is famous for having some of the roughest weather and largest waves in the world.

Shown above is the wave height (swell) forecast and below is the wind speed forecast. We have no choice but to sail through the 25-foot-tall waves and 40-knot winds. All outside decks are now off-limits, as are the library and classroom. Suffice it to say, the next two days are not going to be fun as we spend most of our time sequestered in our cabins. Even so, it is the price we have to pay for having such nice weather up until now.s

Deception Island is the ring-shaped caldera of an active volcano located in the South Shetland Islands off the Antarctic Peninsula. Its collapsed center forms Port Foster, a large, protected natural harbor accessible through a narrow gap called Neptune’s Bellows. Despite being heavily covered by permanent glaciers, the island features geothermal activity that warms its black volcanic sands and waters. Once a bustling hub for sealing, whaling, and scientific research stations—many damaged by eruptions in the late 20th century—it is now a popular Antarctic destination. The image above, taken by a satellite, reveals the unique shape of this island.

Our captain expertly sailed us into the center of the island, where we launched Zodiacs for our last on-shore adventure. Once on terra firma, we made a relatively short but moderately steep hike up to a viewpoint that offered sweeping views of the area. The climb was made more difficult by very high winds carrying sleet horizontally. Anyone with exposed skin would immediately understand how sandblasting removes rust from metal. One hour of discomfort was totally worth the photos I captured along the way.

Click on the photo below and zoom in on Jeanine’s face if you would like to see what horizontal sleet looks like.

Located just north-northeast of Petrel Island in Antarctica’s Géologie Archipelago, Lion Island is a small, uninhabited rocky outcrop named for its distinctive summit shaped like a lion’s head, a resemblance that I failed to see. The French Antarctic Expedition under André Liotard first surveyed and named this rugged formation between 1949 and 1951. Surrounded by the icy waters of Adélie Land, the barren rock stands as a stark natural landmark within the polar seascape.

We circumnavigated the island on a Zodiac tour, during which we encountered spectacular icebergs and bergy bits ranging in color from dull white to vibrant cerulean blue.

The patterns and textures were every bit as varied and beautiful.

Pictured below is a chunk of black ice. It has no trapped air inside, making it exceptionally hard and highly transparent. Before we fished this from the sea, it appeared jet black. That is because we were seeing the black of the ocean below it.

We also encountered a small number of Gentoo penguins, which seemed all too happy to pose for me.

When one door closes, another opens. We planned to visit Neko Bay this morning. When the ship arrived, we found it full of icebergs, and it became necessary to sail to a different destination. En route, we encountered a huge pod of orcas. When the PA system announced their sighting, I left breakfast and made a dead sprint for my cabin, retrieved my camera, and then made another dash to the bow, where I was rewarded for my effort.

Later in the day, we encountered orcas again, probably from the same pod as earlier in the day. The grouping featured several juvenile orcas clowning around with each other. Behaviors included tail slapping, pectoral fin lifting, and porpoise standing.

Portal Point is a narrow, rocky promontory located on the northeast side of the Reclus Peninsula along the west coast of Graham Land in Antarctica. Named by the United Kingdom Antarctic Place-Names Committee in 1960, it historically served as a geographic gateway and launching route up onto the Antarctic Plateau. Our landing here was the first time we set foot on continental Antarctica.

Palaver Point is a small, rocky peninsula situated on the western side of Two Hummock Island within Antarctica’s Palmer Archipelago. 1950s, British surveyors named the site after the word “palaver”—meaning noisy, endless talk—due to the cacophony produced by its resident wildlife. The point serves as a bustling breeding ground for a massive colony of chinstrap penguins, alongside smaller populations of Antarctic shags, skuas, and kelp gulls.

The chinstrap penguin above shows off the feature that gives it its name. For the first time on our journey, snowshoeing was offered as an onshore option but limited to 18 individuals, determined by a lottery. Luckily, I was chosen and got to climb a snow hill for spectacular, elevated views of glaciated valleys and the surrounding Croker Passage. The climb proved to be fairly taxing, and the sweeping views from the top were somewhat obscured by clouds. Still, I was happy to have made the effort.

Pictured below is a small wedge of the view from the top. I made several panoramic sweeps and may add one to this entry when the processing is finished.

Brown Bluff is a dramatic, iron-colored volcanic tuff cone located on the Tabarin Peninsula at the northern tip of Antarctica. This basaltic promontory rises nearly 2,500 feet above the icy waters of the Antarctic Sound. Geologically unique, the bluff was formed by subglacial volcanic eruptions roughly one million years ago, leaving behind massive tufts of rock and towering scree slopes. The beach at its base serves as a bustling wildlife haven, hosting thousands of breeding pairs of Adélie and Gentoo penguins alongside nesting kelp gulls and Cape Petrels.

Shortly before our planned excursion to the beach, we were notified that a landing would be unsafe. Instead, we did a Zodiac cruise during which we encountered our first Adélie Penguins and a Leopard Seal (possibly the only one we will see on our expedition.

We had to abandon our plans to stop at Elephant Island today because of sea conditions. 5+ meter swells made it impossible to launch the Zodiacs without sending their passengers into the ocean. The video above was filmed from the third-floor deck as a point of calibration. The swells were so bad that some onboard activities had to be cancelled or postponed. Alternatively, iceberg watching became quite popular. The one pictured below is the front end of an iceberg easily ten times the length of our ship and just as tall. We are now sailing directly to protected waters off the Antarctic Peninsula.

Our expedition cruise continued today on the open ocean towards Elephant Island. The sea has been angrier today than yesterday, and I skipped lunch and dinner rather than risking a repeat of my first day at sea. On days with no shore excursions, the staff gives presentations on topics aligned with their expertise. Today’s topics included “Penguin Evolution and Ecology” and “Wonders of Ice.” Later, we watched “Endurance,” a National Geographic documentary about the expedition to locate Shackleton’s lost ship at the bottom of the Weddell Sea. Saunders Carmichael-Brown, one of our expedition leaders, was the shooting producer and media manager on that expedition. He is also a descendant of a member of the Ross Sea Party, the expedition team waiting on the other side of Antarctica for Shackleton.

This photo was screen-grabbed from the National Geographic website.

If sea conditions permit, we will spend the next two and a half days crossing the open ocean, destined for Elephant Island. Our visits to South Georgia Island have been breathtaking and awe-inspiring. It will rank high on my list of favorite places in the world. Learning about the recovery of whale and seal populations after the mass slaughter of these species here gave me reason for optimism.

Sailing across vast expanses of ocean, however, is only slightly more interesting than watching paint dry while blindfolded. Dodging icebergs adds a measure of excitement (the one pictured below was twice the length of our ship), as does attempting to photograph whales. These majestic creatures possess an uncanny ability to vanish into the deep at the exact moment your autofocus locks on, leaving you with hundreds of high-resolution photos of empty, gray ocean spray. The simple act of walking down the hallway produces a result not too different from a drunken person walking with one boot on.

Fortunately, the seas today have been better than our first crossing, and my body has decided to retain all the delicious food I have been eating.

Despite the challenges of sailing on the high seas, our vessel, the Magellan Explorer, built in 2019, has been fantastic. It is the length of a football field and weighs almost 6,000 tons. It is propelled by two 3,440 KW engines and can make 14 knots in open water. Bow and stern thrusters allow maneuvering in very tight areas. She can cruise for 60 days before refueling. According to ChatGPT, filling the tank costs a mere $800,000!

UPDATE: The ship has a question box where you can submit queries to the crew. I asked about the fueling cost. The answer from the captain was $986,000. Let’s call it a cool million among friends.

Gold Harbour is so called because the sun’s rays make the cliffs yellow with their light in the morning and evening. It is a small bay with Bertrab Glacier at its head. During the early 1900s, the feature was variously called “Anna’s Bay”, “Gold-Hafen” or “Sandwich Bay”. The approved name appears to have taken root through common usage by sealers and whalers and is now well established.

When we arrived this afternoon, the surf was too high to allow for Zodiac landings, and the sky was cloud-covered. Instead, Zodiac cruises were offered. I opted to stay on board as everything photographed from the Zodiac would be backlit, and I was able to get some very nice shots of the location from the ship. Jeanine opted for the Zodiac, which allowed her to get very close to the X-rated wildlife action on the beach.

My decision to stay behind proved fortuitous. While photographing a nearby bergy bit (a small iceberg), I heard a loud gunshot-like sound. I noticed the iceberg start to rotate and quickly trained my camera on it. The video below compiles the sequence of frames I shot as it flipped upside down.

Saint Andrew’s Bay is a two-mile-wide bight framed by the towering Allardyce Range and overlooked by the dramatic 1,600-foot rock face of Mount Skittle. The bay is ringed by three massive retreating ice rivers: the Cook, Buxton, and Heaney Glaciers. It is renowned for hosting the largest king penguin colony on Earth, a dense “penguin city” that carpets the glacial plain with hundreds of thousands of breeding birds. Alongside this spectacular avian assembly, the dark sand beaches are heavily populated by southern elephant seals and Antarctic fur seals, offering an overwhelming polar wildlife spectacle.

Shortly after leaving Saint Andrew’s Bay, we spotted several whales swimming near our ship. These are my best photos of a whale so far, which is not saying much. I hope to have more chances and opportunities to improve my technique.