Ushuaia and Cape Horn

Hard to type much today, the sea is rolling. In the distance I can see Cape Horn, which we were cruising near about an hour ago. We didn’t go as close as the Captain would have liked because of high winds, but it was impressive all the same, rocky and forbidding. We’ve known the wind was strong all night as it howled through the crack of the window like a ghost trying to get in – very eery sounding.

Just a few words about yesterday in Ushuaia (pronounced oo-shu-eye- a). We took a catamaran ride out to a penguin colony – about 6000 Magellanic penguins and a few Gentoos. All very cute. Along the way over we also saw a colony of cormorants and some sea lions and seals. Along the way back the sea was choppy and several people, including a man at our table, were sea sick. Personally I enjoyed it. It’s as close as I’ll ever get to a roller coaster ride any more. (Most amusement parks won’t let me on rides.)

After the 6 hour catamaran ride (the ride back seemed long I have to admit, especially once people started getting sick), we walked into town – the southernmost city in the world (Fin del Mundo) for real hot chocolate and postcards. I now have about 15 postcards of penguins, so I have my day planned out!

Yesterday I had another reminder that I musn’t get any bigger! This was the only excursion that the cruiseline could set up for me, which was fine since it was the one I wanted anyway. It hadn’t been published as being accessible, but they checked and found there was a ramp available to get onto the catamaran. If my chair had been one inch wider, I don’t think it would have fit on that ramp! I have scrapes on my wheelrims to prove it. I suspect that if it hadn’t fit, then 3 men would have just hoisted me up out of my chair, perhaps without asking me first – or they would have asked in Spanish and then gone on despite my protests. And my chair, folded, would follow. On the catamaran they had nice cushy leather seats, so I transferred onto one, which I was glad I did partly because I could slide over to a window seat, and then later also because it would have been unpleasant to have been in my wheelchair while we were rolling about.

It was really sweet. There was one man, who couldn’t say a word in English, but he took it upon himself to check on me several times. He’d come around, look at me, raise his eyebrows and hand as if to say “everything ok?” Not that I’m sure how I’d tell him anything if it weren’t, but things were ok, so I’d smile and he’d be happy. When we got to the penguin rookery they turned the boat around so the flat side of the boat closest to the shore was my side, and again the same man came to the window to knock on it to tell me to look! The not-yet-seasick man at my table had just realized he had lost his camera, so all our attention was directed at that moment at jacket pockets and the floor. Jim eventually found it where it had slid, under his seat. But my kind man was reminding me of my priorities and of their accommodation. I found myself wondering if maybe he has a sister or daughter or someone he cares for who uses a wheelchair.

The Argentines, similar to the Mexicans, have their own way of handling wheelchairs. They are not concerned about being sued, or following some law somewhere. They are perfectly willing to squeeze you, hoist you etc. The cruise lines have to follow US rules, and that sometimes means they don’t know what a tour operator will or will not do. But these guys don’t care. It’s a good thing and a bad thing. Generally you’re going to be ok, but they often are so sure whatever they collectively have decided is right that your protests are drowned out in the process. For example – going up stairs they might take you up forwards, which is much harder for them, rather than backwards tilting the chair back on only the large wheels. Or going up a ramp they might go backwards and I’ll feel like I’m going to fall out. So, when you have an obstacle you are taking a bit of a risk when you get help, but generally you get where you want to go – and they won’t leave you stuck there, they help you get back too. I’m sure there will come a time when I have to shout really loud because they are about to do something really stupid, but so far I’ve not been in any danger, and I let them get on with their plans. I’m sure it rattles Jim more than me. He knows how fussy I can be when he’s pushing me. The difference is first that he’s often doing something alone and can hurt himself, whereas these other times there are as many as half a dozen men around to help. And secondly Jim understands what I’m saying,but if I tried to explain to the men here what to do the explaining would take longer than the lifting.

We’re out at sea again, docking at Puerto Madryn on Thursday, and we’re hoping to see more penguins and go to a dinosaur museum. So far – we’ve seen orcas, humpback whales, 3 species of penguin (magellanic, gentoo and chinstrap), elephant seals, sea lions, seals, lots of kelp, several species of birds – my favorite being the blue eyed cormarants which look like penguins till they fly away, and the skua which are beautiful in flight. The 2 lecturers on this ship are great. One is a naturalist and a birder, and funny to boot, and there’s a lecture today on sea birds that I look forward to. I’ve never been that interested in birds, but the ones here are beautiful to watch. They seem to soar so effortlessly, or they glide just over the water for hundreds of feet, going faster than the ship.

And I am feeling much better. Except for waking up at night with a dry throat, the pain is gone. I’m coughing, which probably doesn’t sound good, but I feel SO much better. And I’m SO grateful Jim didn’t catch this cold!