I really should have paid more attention in geography class. It appears that Cape Horn is not really where I thought it was.
According to our Port lecturer, the tremendous mountain ranges we passed on the way to the horn are a result of the earth’s tectonic plates buckling and twisting. The power and magnitude of this upheaval is clearly evident in the scenery all along the coastline. Rugged and odd shaped pinnacles that reach ever higher towards the sky with flat slopes and snow-capped peaks. Huge mountain ranges challenging even the mighty Andes that we would see in a few days’ time.
While hugging the shoreline, we passed the Beagle Channel, which divides the Southernmost point of South America and an archipelago of islands that lie at the bottom of the continent. Named after the ship that bought Charles Darwin to these waters, it would be our route later as we were to make our way to Ushuaia and the Pio Glacier, after rounding “The Horn”.
But for now, we were in a race against a storm. Behind the ship was an ominous sky with fork lightening, striking both the earth and sea, as it ripped through the rolling black clouds stirring up the sea behind us. The ships officers voicing their fear that the Horn would live up to its fearsome reputation by giving us a rough ride if we couldn’t beat the threatening tempest.
Sailing around Cape Horn, is considered by sailors to be the equivalent of tackling Mount Everest. Since first navigated in the 1400s, it has taken over 1,500 ships and 15,000 lives and the area is inundated with the wrecks of these unfortunate ships. A beautiful sculpture of an Albatross in silhouette by the famous Chilean Sculptor, Jose Balcells, stands on a lonely peak at the Horn in memory of lost sailors, both past, and possibly future...
So who knew Cape Horn was actually an island? In fact it’s called Hornos Island. Bleak, rugged, completely treeless and only 500 miles from the Antarctic, it stands forlorn and severely battered by the “roaring forties, the furious fifties” and the aptly named “screaming sixties”. Winds so fierce that they are notorious for unexpectedly whipping up every sailor’s dread, a rogue wave
We arrived late in the afternoon just as the storm abated behind us leaving a flat and unusually calm sea. In the distance stood the loneliest house you could imagine connected to “The Lighthouse at the End of the World”.
Each Lighthouse keeper with his family is sent down here for a 6 month stint. They obviously are glad to see some human life for they all came out of the house and waved Chilean flags and played the Chilean National Anthem on loud speakers as we approached.
After one of the ship’s tenders was lowered and filled with officials and crew, we watched them cruise their way across to the small pier to fill out the copious amounts of paperwork necessary for our passage. Then, accompanied by a pod of dolphins and a lone albatross, we slowly moved towards the far end of the island and around its point out into the open sea.
During the next few hours, as we cruised around the Horn, the Captain occasionally spun the Queen Victoria 360 degrees on her axis, so that both sides of the ship could see all of the view...it was magic. After completing the circuit of Hornos Island, we sat below the lighthouse while all obligations satisfied, the tender returned, also bearing the gift of a bottle of Chilean wine for the Captain. She gave a final blast of the ship’s horn and we took our leave.
The Cape Horn pilots on board claimed it was the calmest waters they had seen in a long time and even though we had stood out on deck shivering in the freezing temperatures most of the afternoon, we had to agree that we were blessed to have avoided the seas in full fury. Unsurprisingly, the rogue waves and fierce arctic winds synonymous with the horn, no longer sounded that appealing to me.
We set sail and headed back north-east to the Beagle Channel and the Richmond Passage, passing lots of austere and uninhabited islands on the way.
We finally entered the channel at 10.15pm still during broad daylight for here there is sunlight for 17 hours a day at this time of year... Hmmmm, sounds like an excuse for another Sundowner...
Waiter..!
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