Antarctica - Day 8 - Homesick

1/3/15

Deception Island, Antarctica

It has been a week now since we got to Ushuaia, and I am ready to go home.  No more penguins, no more scenic views, no more late night socializing, no more fancy datelines.  I just want to see that one familiar view of my apartment and my favorite dateline of New York, New York.  If there was a plane that would take me back to New York, I would not hesitate for a second to be on it.  As wonderful as it was for these new friends to enter my life so briefly, I want to return my old friends.  As fun as it has been to hang out with Beth and L--- and Sam and Vanessa, I just want to see my girlfriend again.  However, I will be on this boat for three more days, so I will enjoy the rest of my time here.  On that note, it is time to take the polar plunge.

At anchor, M/V Corinthian, Port Foster (Whalers Bay)

“Never too cold for a cigar!” I responded as I walked out on the deck with a Cohiba between my teeth.  Just like Elsa, the cold never bothered me, anyway.  I’m not sure when we are going to set sail again, which will make this dateline inaccurate.  I actually had to change the dateline from last night’s entry, which is a bit of a funny story.  After I closed last night, I found my friends in the club, so I dropped off the stuff before heading to the bridge.  As always, I checked the coordinates and went up to the map, trying to figure out where we were and our path.  The navigation officer came up and helped me.  No, we were not in the Gerlache Strait, as I had thought, we were in the Croker Passage.  At around 2 AM, we would be entering the Bransfield Strait.  At 7 AM, we would be entering Port Foster.  She then asked me why I’m always so interested in this.  I answered her quite honestly and told her about the Travelogue and the need for accurate datelines.

I headed back to the lounge, and we did some whale watching.  After the whale watching, everyone tapped out within an hour or so, tired from the late nights we had been having and wanting to wake up for the early morning entry through Neptune’s Bellows.  L--- does not participate in the late nights, saying she gets very cranky if she does not get eight hours every night.  She had been saying at dinner how hard it was to get time to yourself since we had such busy days with so much socializing and everything.  I responded that she needed to stay up late with us so that she would have more time to do everything.  Like her grandmother, always quick on her feet, she shot back that I just sleep all day and miss all the activities.  She could not figure out the apparent contradiction.

Anyway, after Beth and later Davy went to bed, it was just me and Dom, and we talked for a little, both busy on our computers as we chatted.  After I published my entry, I went to bed, before sunrise for the first time in five days.  I woke up at the announcement, got dressed very quickly, and ran up to the bridge.  The officers were standing or sitting on the bridge in complete silence, except for two times.  The first time was when the captain shouted out “two seven zero,” obviously a heading, and the officer at the con repeated it before making the course correction.  Another time, they were looking for the bosun.  It must have been urgent, since the captain got on the loudspeaker, and another officer went running outside without his coat.

Once we passed through the bellows, I headed back to my cabin and then down to breakfast.  I got an omelet for the first time, being adventurous and ordering it with the works.  I sat down next to Beth’s father, the rest of the family sleeping through breakfast, and we had a nice chat.  It’s funny, four of my favorite people on the boat are the fathers of four of the most attractive girls.  I brought a plate of pastries up to the room and got ready.  Unwilling to repeat my mistake of yesterday, I had a Fuente while the operations were in process.  This way, I would be in the last group to get to shore, and I would not be craving a cigar on the island.

Once we got ashore, we did a little hike up to Neptune’s Window and back, before heading to the “hot springs.”  Recalling my trip to Israel, I joked to Claudia and Steve that this wouldn’t be like the Ein Geidi Hot Springs.  Afterwards, I made a similar joke about the Dead Sea.  It was then time to head over to the “hot springs.”  They can call it whatever they want, but it was still the coldest water I had ever been in, well below 40 degrees Fahrenheit.  I had enough time to write that paragraph before the plunging started.  I stripped down to my bathing suit and gave Davy’s mom my camera.  It was so cold when I was in there, but it was so warm when I got out that I didn’t even need to get dressed.  Eventually I started putting back on one article of clothing at a time as I dried off.

Beth then came and asked who was going to join her.  Her family was either not willing or not ready, so I said that I would do it again.  She was hesitant, but I went running back in full speed.  I got about ten feet in and lied on my back.  Beth got her feet wet and walked out before being pressured into going up to her waist.  She walked up to her waist and ran back out.  I was lying on my back the whole time, and I think her mom took more pictures of me than of her.  I was freezing, and I got out, joking to Claudia and Steve that it wasn’t quite like the Dead Sea.  I wanted to get on the Zodiac in just my t-shirt and flips, but I didn’t think that would be allowed, and I was too wet to get dressed.  Besides, I was starting to get delirious from the cold.

Eventually, I got fully dressed and headed back to the ship.  I changed out of my wet socks and bathing suit into dry socks and underwear, put my sweats back, on, grabbed a Cohiba, and braved the cold once more for my cigar.  I lit up and proceeded to write this entry.  Beth’s mom came back, and I asked her if she could send me a picture of me lying on my back.  She joked that she’d send me two pictures if I stopped smoking my cigars.  I think we are setting sail now, and my cigar is almost done, so I will now close.

At sea, M/V Corinthian, Bransfield Strait

I often wonder what people think of me or say about me behind my back.  I hold is at an absolute truth that I would never want anyone to ever to lie to me for any reason, but you can’t just go up to someone and ask them to tell you what they really think about you.  Even if you did, there is no guarantee they’d be honest.  Being true to myself means that I shouldn’t really care, but it also means that I shouldn’t want to be friends with someone who talks shit about me behind my back.  After I closed, I found my friends in the club where L--- and Beth were discussing, well, the second favorite topic of girls under, well, 60: clothes.  Hell, it probably doesn’t even stop at 60.  Other than boys, clothes are girl’s favorite thing to talk about if Sex in the City paints any kind of accurate picture.

A few of us went out on the bridge to watch them pass back through Neptune’s Bellows, and I once more thought of the Fellowship of the Ring crossing through the Argonath.  We went back to the club, and I jokingly asked L--- if she was going to yell at me again if I took a nap.  She said that she rarely ever yells.  I then rephrased, “Criticize me?”  I think it was Beth who then quipped, “Have you met her grandmother?”  Yes, I knew exactly from where L--- got her biting wit, and it is one of the main reasons why I love her.  She reiterated again how she doesn't understand why I stay up so late and then sleep through the days’ activities.

After my nap, which lasted almost until the end of lunch, I got dressed and headed to the lobby to check on my social media.  Shabbat having just ended in Israel, my best friend had blown up my page, Liking almost 20 of my statuses, and my Polar Plunge picture got a dozen Likes.  I then heard Beth and Davy’s voices asking what time it was at the South Pole.  I saw Beth walking up without Davy.  “It’s UTC.”  She didn’t understand.  “The time zone at the South Pole, it’s UTC.”  She still didn’t know what UTC was, so I explained it to her.  When Davy came up, I had the same conversation with him.  [Author's note: this was actually inaccurate.  The station at the South Pole uses New Zealand Time, since the supply ships come from New Zealands.]

I went down to see that the cafeteria was almost empty, but there was an empty seat at the table where Vanessa and her family were sitting.  The group hadn’t started dessert yet.  I had picked up a plate of fried food, and Phil welcomed me to join them.  They ordered dessert, and I asked for the dessert, too, having the utmost confidence in my ability to finish my main course well before the ice cream melted.  Phil asked me about my writing, and I told him about it, saying that I write two or three times a day.  He asked if I wrote about him, and if they were the good guys.  Phil was fast becoming one of my favorite people on the ship, and Vanessa was the first person I introduced myself to.  I laughed and assured them that they were.  Hmm, it appears that we are making anchor, so I will need to pause until we are anchored so that I can update the dateline.

At anchor, M/V Corinthian, Moon Bay

They were quite interested in my Travelogue and asked if I posted it to my blog.  I said that I did but that I would wait until the end of the trip before I shared the link.  They agreed that that was better, rather than having a couple of awkward days on the boat if they didn’t like it.  I wrote yesterday about L---’s comforting presence, Vanessa is similar.  She exudes an aura of warmth and softness, and, if my reader will allow me quite a bit of dramatic license, is like the big sister I never had.  I feel very calm when I’m around her, and her father is very fun and entertaining.  When they asked me if they were the heroes or the villains of the story, there was no doubt in my mind that they were the heroes.  They asked who the villains were of this story, and I honestly could not think of that.  There are no villains in this story.  There is no one on this boat who has been mean to me.  While not everyone was a hero, there were certainly no villains.

True to form, I finished my meal shortly after the dessert.  There was some debate if I’d be using the chopsticks for my ice cream.  I assured them that I would, though I reserved the right to use my spoon if it melted.  Well, when it melted, I got a little piece of cake, and used the ice cream as a sauce for the cake, mixing it all together, and allowing me to finish the rest with chopsticks.  Everyone else left, leaving me with just Vanessa and her parents.

Dom joined us for a few minutes before leaving, and they said they were going back to the room, Phil said, “Steven’s off for his cigar break.”  “Phil knows what’s talking about.”  I did exactly that.  I put on my parka, grabbed a Davidoff, refilled my lighter, and headed to the smoking area, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close, as we will soon be making our landing at Half Moon Island, our last landing until we get back to Ushuaia.

At sea, M/V Corinthian, Drake Passage, En route to Ushuaia

With that dateline, The Journey Home has Officially begun, and it is none too soon.  If I could be back in New York with my girlfriend tomorrow, and back at work on Monday morning, I would gladly trade that for my rest of the time on the boat.  We are currently experiencing massive swells that only promise to get worse, but it is not seasickness I feel.  It is homesickness.  I miss my own bed.  I miss my smoking chair.  I miss the cigar store.  I miss all of my favorite things in New York.  As much as I love my new friends, I would gladly trade the rest of my time with them to be back with my girlfriend so much as one day sooner.

The sun will be rising in an hour, once again an irrelevant concept, especially with this cloud coverage, and my friends have all gone to bed.  I still have this last order of business to attend to before I can pass out.  The final landing was unadventurous, and I would have been just as happy staying in my spot on the smoking deck with a cigar, watching from the boat.  We did, however, see a bunch of penguins, including some baby chicks.  My camera died as I was snapping pictures of the penguins at the top of the trail, so I was ready to get back at that point.  When I got back, I think I had a cigar, yes, I had a cigar, a Davidoff, no, an Epicure, and waited for “Anchor’s aweigh.”

After my cigar, I took a nap, and I overslept part of dinner.  I rushed to get ready, not even bothering to dress nicely, and looked for an empty table.  The only spot I found was with Dom and his family, along with Katherine and her father (John).  I sat between Dom and Katherine.  The meal consisted of more riotous and rambunctious laughter possibly than any other meal of the trip.  The highlight of the meal was when we were talking about the polar plunge, and I said that I was unable to talk when I got of the water.  John, ever quick witted, said that they should douse me with cold water more often.  I could not stop laughing for a solid minute, nor could the others at the table.  Frances said that I should tell the “pot” story, and I insisted that that was not appropriate dinner conversation.  I promised that I would tell it after midnight, once I had some more wine in me.  Katherine had a habit of leaving food on her plate, which I would eye until I finally worked up the courage to ask her if she was going to finish it.  Later in the evening, we would disagree about just how much brownie was left on the plate.

After dinner, I had my, wait, did I, no I didn’t have an after dinner cigar, I don’t think.  Anyway, we congregated and recongregrated multiple times around the ship, eventually winding up in the lounge to play charades, after much bonding by the girls, especially with L--- and Beth becoming new best friends.  It was a relatively short game, and I was at my usual top form, successfully acting out my clue in 16 seconds, and being the best guesser on our team.  Before we started playing, L--- said she saw a whale.  She kept pointing it out, and I insisted we were just looking at waves.  She said that she definitely saw a whale, and I asked her how she could tell the difference.  “The water went straight up.”  “And waves don’t do that?”  “No.”  “Not even the big ones?”  “No.”  Afterwards, she said that she was going to bed and that yoga was at four.  I said that I would still be up.  She said that she meant four in the afternoon.  I said that I would definitely be asleep then, and I asked her if it was okay if I slept all day.  She said that she wouldn’t presume to tell me what to do (just preferring to criticize me for not enjoying the trip in the right way), and I responded that I function much better when someone is telling me what to do.

After L--- went to bed, it just left me, Davy, Katherine, Beth, and Danny.  I think Luke might have joined us for a bit.  I had provided my bottle of Malbec towards the alcohol for the evening, and Katherine wasn’t able to finish her glass.  “Does anyone want the rest of this?  Steven?”  “You don’t have to ask twice.”  I then added that I had been finishing her meal all night.  Beth asked why she wasn’t hungry, and she said that it wasn’t that, she had just left some potato on her plate for the first course, and then the brownie.  That was when we disagreed about how much brownie was left.  We found ourselves climbing a ladder to the generator room, not the best idea in our inebriated states.  I kept stumbling as I walked, but I think it was more the waves than the wine, it being the bumpiest seas we had seen so far.

Alright, the sun appears to have risen, but the Official sheet we have says I have another 38 minutes, so I will not change the dateline, but I will wrap up.  Well, Davy and Katherine continued their bonding, and Danny and I knew that we needed to leave them alone.  Beth was busy on the phone with her “boy” as she calls him, so that left just me and Danny.  I volunteered my ranking of the girls on the boat: [Redacted.]  He approved of the ranking.

I filched the big bucket of snacks, all the cocktail snacks that had to last the whole trip.  We thought were going to polish it off, but we just made a good dent into what was left.  We thought how funny it would be for them to wake up to an empty bucket of snacks and wonder where it all went.  I also told the “pot” story, and, like Frances, Danny could not stop laughing the whole time.  The other three soon came back, and then they went back the 3^rd Deck.  The crackers sobered me up, and we put the bucket back.  Danny then went to bed, and I got my pipe ready.

Beth had just finished up on the phone with “the boy” as I walked out.  “Why does this boy like me so much?” she asked Davy and Katherine.  “Because you’re pretty,” I replied as I walked in.  That conversation lasted us past 3 AM, and the ladies then went to bed.  Davy considered joining me for a smoke, but fatigue and cold and wind deterred him.  I then went outside, where I lit up my 2013 Christmas Pipe, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can go inside and publish before I come back out for sunrise.  I suppose that, even if I never see my new friends again, one good thing will come out of these nine days.  Never again in my life will I ever be intimidated or uncomfortable talking to beautiful women.

Oh, one more thing to add (inside now), as we were all chatting, I was looking at old pictures of me and my girlfriend.  I was holding the tablet in my hand and forgotten about it when Danny asked who that was.  I said that it was my girlfriend, and Beth and Katherine were very eager to see pictures of her.  I showed them, and Katherine commented on how cute of a couple we made, the same thing that everyone says when they pictures of us.  She was right.  As much fun as it has been to flirt with Beth and L--- and Vanessa, to practice talking to beautiful women, to overcome my fear of talking to strange women, I just want to get home and see the one that I know and love the best.  Sunrise in 4 minutes.