Day 30 ~ Unexpected Delight!

 February 8, 2022

"In my Journal I wrote that whilst standing in the midst of the grandeur of a Brazilian forest, it is not possible to give an adequate idea of the higher feelings of wonder, admiration, and devotion, which fill and elevate the mind.' I well remember my conviction that there is more in man than the mere breath of his body. But now the grandest scenes would not cause any such convictions and feelings to rise in my mind.” ~ from the autobiography of Charles Darwin

Sorry, Charles. I still feel wonder, admiration and devotion when confronted with this unnecessarily beautiful world. It proclaims a Great Mind at work and to deny this is to deny ourselves. I'm in Francis Collins' camp. He's the brilliant scientist who headed up the Human Genome Project that mapped out the billions of sequences of genes that make us human. 

Faith is reason plus revelation, and the revelation part requires one to think with the spirit as well as with the mind. You have to hear the music, not just read the notes on the page. ~ Francis Collins

Today, I heard the music. 

I had anticipated a day to reflect on the glorious wonders of the  Amalia glaciers and Punta Arenas. Part of that reflection took place in the art class, led by Damian, one of our excellent assistant cruise directors (and he's also a superb vocalist. The DH and I enjoyed using watercolor instead of acrylics this time, though we both confess to frustration of feeling less in control over the process. Still our paintings spoke of the misty loveliness of the glaciers we'd seen and captured some of our feelings of awe. 

We'd moved through the channels away from the glaciers during the night and passed through to the open sea for the morning. By noon, the Star's nose pointed eastward and we entered what I believe to be the Beagle Channel, named for the ship that carried Charles Darwin around South America and up to the Galapagos, where his theory grew and his faith shrank. What awaited us in that channel was total majesty, wonders on wonders, and the DH and I were glued to our balcony lest we miss the next scene of majesty that came into view as we glided along.  

I have been blessed to see some of the most amazing natural sights in the world. I've watched clouds slide their icy fingers over the tops and down the sides of the Big Horn Mountains. I've stood transfixed at the rim of the Grand Canyon, following the stripes of sediment as they snake along the canyon walls. I've felt the thunder of falling water in my chest when we visited Niagara Falls. I've seen Mo'orea, arguably the most achingly beautiful island in the world. We've been to Glacier Bay, Alaska and sailed the entire length of Sognefjord, Norway, inspired by the rugged loneliness of the terrain and comforted by the snug little settlements nestled in each small valley. 

I tell you all that so you'll understand when I say I've never seen the like of the southern coast of Tierra del Fuego. 

The mountain tops grew taller, the ice sheets thicker, the waterfalls plummeted for hundreds of feet. We heard the largest of them roaring before we rounded a bend and saw it gushing down the mountainside in a yellow torrent. Millions of gallons of fresh water poured into the sea, turning the waves from turquoise to milky green from all the minerals and sediment the glacier had collected in the Andes and carried with it to sea level. 

I'll let the DH's photo montage tell the rest of the story. Even though our pictures don't begin to capture the scale, the vibrancy of colors, the textures and cleavages in the rock, the fresh breath of snow-washed air, I hope you'll feel a little of the awe we experienced this day. It was a day to thank God for our eyes, for allowing us to see these wonders, and for being able see them together!

 

Near suppertime, we anchored at Ushuaia (pronounced "Oo-swy-ah") Argentina to take on more fuel. We weren't allowed to disembark, so I can't scratch the country off my world map, but at least we could dine in a sort of Argentine-adjacent way. Ushuaia boasts of being the southernmost city in the world. However, now that expedition tourism is picking up, Chile is building a town on Isla Gordon, south of Ushuaia, so they can claim the honor of being the farthest south. 

Such a starkly beautiful, wild and lonely place. It only takes people to introduce conflict, doesn't it?    

Our evening entertainment was Tanya Roberts, a soprano who sang musical theater, opera and jazz a few days ago. Very nice lyric voice. I'll be looking forward to hearing her second performance in a few days.

Rumors scurry through the hallways of the Star faster than rats on the old sailing ships. Some say we're going to make a run for the Horn tomorrow. Since the Drake Passage has been a notorious ship-eater in the past, I'm sure it will be dependent on the weather. 

But honestly, never in my life did I ever think I'd even be this close to the Horn, let alone possibly sailing around it.  

More soon... and remember, if you read this via Follow It, you may be missing the DH's video montage, so be sure to click on the title of the post to be taken directly to RoundTheWorldWriter!