Imprinting Beauty

Dandelions...I know they are technically weeds, but they contain such bright, happy shades of yellow. Its spring at the tip of South America and with that comes the dandelions. Their explosion of yellow catches the eye and stands out amongst the green grass creating a focal point with shiny white caps and blue skies as a backdrop. Tall snow peaked mountains hug the “southern most city of the world” with the bay on one side. This is where I am...so far from home...soaking in the magnificent panorama. People on the streets...mostly hikers, are here to hike the surrounding glaciers. There's an atmosphere of excitement and joy. I wonder how many visitors are going to Antarctica. I wonder if any of them will be on my boat. Adventures are just waiting to happen, and I've already had so many getting down here! In a few hours I’ll be leaving...floating on the water in a vessel headed for that beautiful silent continent. Finally A n t a r c t i c a

There's a steady, soft rumbling noise coming from below, singing a lullaby of sorts as the boat faintly moves back and forth. The twilight sky has a star or two shouting out its presence. The warm air from this afternoon has gone to sleep and a jacket is a must as I look out into universe. I wonder how many hours will truly be dark in Antarctica. Time moves differently down here. The sun takes it's time looking down on Ushuaia this time of year. Pleasantly warm from it's radiance, its easy to lose track of time without a watch. But Ushuaia is already behind us and the mountains are dim in the distance, just barely visible in the dusk. Dividing and pushing the water aside, the Antarctic Dream (our boat) moves south. I love watching the white crests of the small waves. It’s hard to take it all in. Attempting a photo, I realize watching with my eyes and imprinting it in my mind is the closest way to truly capture this moment. The captain said just a few more hours before the Drake Passageway...the channel in which even strong stomach sailors can get queasy or even dreadfully seasick. My room is on the bottom level of the Antarctic Dream. Looking out the small circular window, water appears just a few feet away. What will occur in just a few hours?!? I've never been on a boat in open sea. Actually, I've never been on a ship at all unless you count a canoe on the river or a speed boat in a lake. Yet here we are about to go through the “D r e a d e d” Drake Passage. Will it really be that bad? I'm N e R v O u s! What was I thinking making this my first experience out to sea! Several guests are wearing anti nausea patches behind their ears and others have bracelets of sorts on their wrists (and they aren't a new fashion statement). A few have declared they are taking nothing. That's crazy! The captain states once you are sick...it's too late. The medication won't help. Will most get sick? Will I? Will the waves knock on the window above my bed? Will the gentle, soothing rocking turn into a violent shake? Will it feel like the boat is going to turn sideways?!? What does it feel like to truly be out on the open sea?!? This is an adventure. They say sailing through the passage is worth it. Guess I'm about to find out. I'm taking a pill and going to bed.

Jerked out of sleep, my hand reflexes to grab the side of the bed as I tried not to fall out. What was happening? Where was I? Oh yes...on the far south sea in a boat. The foreboding of the Drake Passage had arrived along with the intense rocking. Sitting up as the boat swayed in the opposite direction, I was aware of gravity. Fighting against the force, I looked out the window. You know that feeling of quickly moving up several stories in an elevator? The pressure in this boat feels similar, except the pull is more diagonal. The sun was already starting to make its appearance outside of my petite round porthole. The massive waves rocking our boat splashed near the window, but didn’t quite reach the base of it. “Ha!” It was in a contest against the sea, and it was losing. Waiting to see if that water could actually hit the glass, I realized how tired I was. Looking back into the room, the clock blared 3:48. What? It wasn't even 4am!!! I need more sleep. Becoming more alert, common sense told me that despite the rocking, I wouldn’t fall out of bed. Knowing this, I began to relax, and as I did a feeling of nausea crept over me. The desk across the room was stationary (it was nailed to the floor), but my stomach wasn’t. Blah! Swallowing another pill, I quickly resumed the lateral position. I could look out the window later. Sea sickness was not something I wanted to experience. Morning came quickly and even though I love to sleep in, I was out of bed before 8am. This was not a day to sleep away. Unlatching the dresser and changing my balance to match the pattern of the sea, I wasn’t prepared for the drawer to come sliding forward as the boat swung in the opposite direction. Grabbing my clothes, I was appreciative of the latches on the dresser, the spring attached to the chair and the nails that kept the furniture in place. Never being on the open sea before, I wasn't expecting to feel the heaviness or load of positional changes that constantly occurred throughout the day. It’s like a roller coaster ride, only it doesn't stop. Walking has turned into an art of zigzagging down the narrow hallways, and in the dining room I have no clue how the waiters manage the food and drinks. We have special tablecloths to keep the artsy plates of food in place, but occasionally the boat rocks a bit too far and a dish or two goes flying. CRASH! Oops! I wonder how many dishes are broken in a season. I have to admit, it is entertaining to watch it all. People...sprawled out on the couches taking an afternoon snooze...the passing of the Drake is an obstacle, but I learned we are having quite a good day. Usually this time of year, the sea is more violent. They call it “the Drake Shake”. We are only at a “level 7” which means the sea is quite calm. It doesn't feel tranquil to me, but it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. My stomach is no longer queasy and I have mastered walking on the open sea...well most of the time. The birds are here...following the boat. All shapes and sizes, they fly silently in the wake. I love the Cape Petrel with his small outlined eyes and speckled black and white body. He reminds me of a cartoon. Some of the birds out here have a wing span of 3.5 meters. That's over 11 feet!!! Incredible! The scientists on board say the wild life is going to continue to amaze us. So the day involves “orientation” to the sea’s rhythm, eating, enjoying the scenery, listening to intriguing lectures and meeting new friends from literally around the world.

As I walk up the flight of stairs to breakfast, the pressure has lessened. It somehow seems easier to walk in a zigzag pattern to my seat. Clanging of dishes can be heard as the boat takes a dip toward the sun already high in the eastern sky. Only four hours or less of night makes the sun rise ahead of even an early riser. As of 0030 this morning, I am in the Antarctic Sea!!! Birds still follow, but not as many as before. People are getting to know each other and laughter can be heard along with the clashing of silverware. It’s quite something to see tea sloughing for no apparent reason except for the tipping of the boat. I continue to study the art of the waiters and still don't know how they manage to serve on such uneven ground. I am not quite sure why babies find comfort in the rocking back and forth motion. Maybe it is more of a steady rhythm than that of the sea which continues to shove and yank the boat. The ocean has triumphed over a few travelers who haven't been out of their cabins since yesterday. Poor Cedee...he's sick, but is still out and about. He's part of a group from Hong Kong filming a documentary on Antarctica. I guess two of the guys are famous, one an actor and the other a musician. They broadcast a show call “One Earth, One Life” and several have traveled all over the world. An innovative group, I love talking to them. Anyways, they all decided NOT to take any type of seasickness medications, and then proceeded to take bets on who would throw up first. Cedee lost. Beads of sweat on his forehead, he looked miserable behind the video camera. I’m grateful I took medicine and can enjoy the beauty of the water. The ocean... Cool, refreshing, full of life with shades of blue Azure, cobalt, sapphire, indigo Powerful, strong and unpredictable Water...deep clear blue water..icy blue Nothing around for miles...nothing but water It's a desert. It's seems like a contradiction, a barren desert of water? Poles apart from the stereotypical, but I fully agree with this term. How can you not? I look out and see nothing…nothing in any direction but water…water all the way to the horizon. Its late now...11:13pm and still it is only the beginning of twilight. Half of the group from Hong Kong are being dropped off on one of the South Shetland Islands near Maxwell Bay, where they will stay at the Great Wall Chinese base. Yes that is right...there is land! Through the haze are ice-capped snow covered islands. I love land.

South Shetland Islands, Antarctica Like crazy horns, the colony of penguins could be heard even from the Antarctic Dream. I didn't know they made such a sound. Squinting hard, I looked toward the exposed cliffs pushing through the snow. Small moving dots confirmed the fact that the colony was indeed there. The icy wind bitterly blowing, more layers were a must before heading to Half Moon Island...the first landing in Antarctica. Was I really here??? The coldness on my cheeks mixed with the sounds of penguins made reality shout “YES!” and then off to the right it hit my core as I looked at a glowing piece of ice. Blue ice they call it, formed from thousands of years of compaction. Never before had my eyes seen such a thing. Glowing softly...a radiant blue, this truly was Antarctica. Layers on layers, I prepared for the cold. Soon I'd be out there with the playful penguins...here at the bottom of the world!!! I pulled my second jacket over the first, twisting my arm down the sleeve until my hand popped out of the cuff. Thick hat, two pairs of gloves, waterproof pants and rubber boots, I waited in line to board the zodiac. Being surrounded by land, the boat had ceased to rock and everyone was up and moving. No more sea sickness. Excitement filled the air and smiles came easily to people's faces. All were about to experience a dream of a life time. Stepping into the sanitation bucket (to kill any microorganism on the boots...a standard procedure for Antarctica), I thought how the name of this boat fit so perfectly. Antarctic Dream. Written on the back of the red coat in front of me, I knew for me...this was true. It was a dream to be here and as I made my way down the metal stairs into the small rubber zodiac, I knew my dream was about to become a reality. Before I knew it, the small zodiac was on shore. A few quick movements and then I was standing on land! Glossy, black stones under my feet Snow scattered with dark red in front of me Cliffs beyond Forgetting about the cold, I looked left. Next to an antique rowboat, a penguin hopped out of the ocean and then a second appeared from under the froth of the wave. Just 15 feet away, I stood and stared. Hearing the movement of rocks behind me, I turned as Jamie, one of the expert naturalists, approached. I could see his eyes smiling and even though he was loaded down in layers as I, his step had a lightness to it. “How are you gals doing?'' asked his cheerful voice. I answered and then asked him the same. His answer was already displayed through his gestures. “I'm home” he sighed with arms open wide. Simple yet filled with so much passion. How could Antarctica be home? Cold, so far from civilization... Looking around, I began to see what he meant. This place was special, and the girl next to me stated as much. His response left a delightful suspense. “Oh and this is just the beginning”. Smiling, Jamie pointed to the tour guide for the island and as I walked away I knew I was stepping not only onto a new continent, but also into a world of inconceivable adventures.

A new day! Squinting hard and gazing ahead, I resisted the urge to look away as huge snowflakes landed on my face. I was surrounded by snow covered mountains and penguins everywhere I looked. Stepping out of the zodiac boat, I turned to look back. Behind me was the sea with icebergs floating around the ship, many giving off a bluish shade. Mountains shot straight up from the waters, and in a way I felt like I must have already climbed to a peak for this amazing view. Walking up a small slope to give room for people disembarking the next zodiac, I noticed the shelf snow near the base of the incline. It was edged like a white canyon wall. “I must be looking at a postcard or a photo found in National Geographic”. Opening my mouth for a split second, a large snowflake landed straight on my tongue. It felt like a spoonful of Hawaiian shaved ice. Large clusters of snowflakes in the summer...or really late spring...seemed extraordinary. The snowflakes grew smaller and so did the group of people as they climbed the hill ahead of me. Shielding my eyes, I attempted to catch up with the other red coated people. We all looked sorely out of place in these red coats the boat had provided for us. However, the warmth was wonderful. The thought was forgotten as I looked down at the footprints ahead of me. Each imprint was glowing light blue like there was a black light hidden beneath the snow. Such a brilliant soft blue, a hidden treasure disclosed with each step. I was walking on a glacier!!!! Twisting my own foot a little deeper with the next, and hoping the blue intensified, I realized I'd never catch up with the group at this speed. How can a person move swiftly when everywhere you look is so rich for the eyes? Sweating though my layers, finally the top appeared. Even through the fog, I knew I could sit there for hours and absorb the surroundings. Quiet except for the songs of the penguins, I felt like I was dreaming…were my eyes telling me the truth? Was this unexplainable wintry white scenery truly surrounding me? I did not know so many shades of white existed. Oh my… Back on the boat…. A joyous outburst from behind and squeals of excitement filled the dining hall. Dropping my fork and turning toward the commotion, people were pointing out the window. A whale had been spotted. Soon a crowd gathered to gaze into the water and wait for the whale to surface again. As an eruption filled the room once more, it sounded like children opening their dream gift. As even more people rushed to look out the glass, I felt the boat tip towards the left. It sure felt like we were leaning with the crowd concentrated in one area. Eventually the whale wandered off and the people began to dissipate back to their tables and their second course dish. Nevertheless, the atmosphere stayed one of joy. People had spotted the first of the whales.

Mountains on the starboard side and ice bergs on the port and front side, this was my third day in Antarctica and my sixth day of adventure. Down the red metal stair case I went again, heading for the zodiac floating in the Pleneau Bay (also known as the iceberg graveyard). Thankful for the hands that reached out to help me into the boat, I couldn't wait to begin this water tour. We were going to see the icebergs up close!!! The brilliant blue could already be seen from the boat. If lucky, seals might be spotted as well. The wind smacked ice cold on my right cheek and as I pulled my hood over my thick flannel hat, I was grateful for all the layers of clothing I had on...2 long sleeve shirts, a vest and 2 coats, gloves and mittens, three pairs of pants and two pairs of socks with a heating pad in each waterproof boot. Grasping the rope attached to the zodiac, I watched the landscape around me. Six more people still had to climb in before we could leave. Patience comes with ease in a place where everywhere you look a perfect photo could be captured. Having too much memory on a camera card is impossible. It's difficult to stop pressing the button and clicking away at the scenery, especially when the photo can't seem to portray the magic of the moment. Yet I already know people at home won't want to sit through a 1000 photos of ice and snow...especially since its already winter there. So I must somehow manage to shorten it. Soon our zodiac boat was full of people dressed warmly with cameras in hand. Floating on the water, we passed ice bergs on both sides of us. Each design was uniquely made from variations of wind, snow, and ocean. Some were small, while others were over two stories high. Their shapes told stories like cumulus clouds do on a warm spring day. My enchanted moments of viewing the massive iceberg land however were interrupted as the radio went off. ORCAS...or killer whales...had been spotted. Jamie, our guide, sped in their direction. Exhilaration filled his voice as he began to explain the rarity of this event. Normally these shy whales stay far from boats and in ten years he had never been near one on a zodiac. Tapping on the side of the boat to gain attention, we were not disappointed. A spray of sea water shot into the air as a black and white head appeared just three feet from us with a second one following. Standing to my feet, the gasps and exclamations around me spoke how I felt…so close to such a wild, HUGE animal. The show intensified as more appeared. Jamie explained there were 4-5 curious female orcas around us with one young one. How he could tell all this was a mystery to me. Swimming under our small balloon boat and flipping over to her belly, one came so near I could have reached down and touched her. Another flapped her fins as two on the other side arched out of the water, displaying their coats and ending with a small splash as their tails waved hello. I was torn between absorbing it all or attempting to take some photos. As the show continued and the whales were bobbing their heads in and out of the water...I began to shoot a few photos. This event was a first for everyone.

Morning Port Lockroy is smaller than I thought it would be…a tiny hut sitting on a tiny island. There are Gentoo penguins everywhere you look, many sitting on eggs. White looking vultures are here too. Scrawny skin surrounding their eyes with white feathers covering the rest of their bodies like a winter coat, those strange looking birds just stand near the entrance to the gift shop. It makes me wonder if someone has fed them. After buying a few small items and mailing off post cards (that will take a month to arrive), I wandered through the place. What would it be like to live in such a minuscule place with only a few others for months on end? In the 1960's, workers were stationed here for up to 2 ½ years at a time! People still live here, but only during the summer months...both managing the gift shop as well as running a research project on the penguins that make their homes here. Afternoon Big round eyes, the little seal just stared at us as we floated by. He was resting on an ice berg, “sunbathing” at the beach...well maybe. As I looked closer, I saw a red mark on his chest. Blood? He must have been in a fight! Poor little guy, but he didn't look too harmed. Looking ahead, there was another gray lump on a distant piece of ice. As we approached, the mystery of the red mark was solved. A Leopard seal mother with her baby pup! A “smile” on her face, the whole boat was silenced in awe and fear. Watching the baby eat, no one wanted to provoke the mother. Leopard seals are quite ferocious at times. There were other things to see as well…like the rusted whaling ship, half sunken into the harbor. It made me a bit nervous to look at it and I had to remind myself it has been there for years...on the eastern side of Enterprise Island. Evening I wish that you could come and sit here beside me...in this chair and look out on the unimaginable beauty that surrounds me. It's 7pm and the sun is just dipping into an afternoon position casting an outstanding light onto everything it touches. The wind has carved the aged snow resting on the hills, and the icebergs still hold their blue blaze. The water...it's golden...sparkling gold with an endless vivid blue. I didn't know water so deep could shine blue...not black or a dark foggy blue...but a clear clean blue. I tried taking a photo, but then threw the camera down in disappointment. Nature cannot be captured by a man made device. We might try to create, but it doesn't compare. The 360 degree 4D imagine in front of me is not reproducible. It's a blessing to be here…a gift to see this…an opportunity that I am seizing and holding onto with gratitude. Snow. Ice. Water. Sun. Clouds. Wind. Stone. All arranged in a way that I can't quite grasp...can't describe...can barely absorb just sitting here. What more can be said? This keyboard must stop for this moment and this laptop must close. I need to just look and breathe in my surroundings.

The weather is not good today and our plans have been canceled. You'd think this would be heart breaking, but my mind is already bursting of experiences from the past few days that I can't stuff much more in. I think I will tell you about a few more of them... This is the best description I can give you of what I saw from atop a hill at Neko Harbour. How do you explain glaciers? The beauty of frozen water that surpasses time of the ages Glorious white and strong Decorating the mountains, they can move rock Yet a whisper of vibration and the glacier breaks Fractures and with that small crack, a cascade of events A crackling, crumbling sound escapes The kind that echoes deep inside like a base drum And the reaction is complete as a strip of ice falls smoothly into the bay Heavy and beautiful, it shouts a final goodbye to the part still clinging to the mountain Rings of waves form upon impact, soaking the shore and smothering the rocks Penguins People do seem intrigued by them. The most frequent remark before coming down here was “Bring me back a penguin” or “Take a photo of a penguin for me”. Maybe it's because that's all people know of this icy world. Penguins are plentiful down here. I was ignorant before this trip, but now I’m quite the expert...at least in identifying five different types. Between lectures on the ship and coming in close contact with them each day, I have vastly increased my appreciation and knowledge of them. They are adorable. What makes them this way? Is it how they walk or hop up a hill? Their feathers of black and white? The way society has portrayed them? They were quite popular amongst the tourist, especially the first few days. Cameras clicking continuously, these birds are movie stars, but they are so much more than that. Enduring temperatures beyond freezing, these guys live. If a blizzard comes, they stay put and let the snow envelop them. When calmness once more arrives, these resilient birds shake themselves off and continue where they left off. While tending to the small newborns, some fast for weeks. Picking up rocks one at a time near the shore and carrying them up hill to build nests, they are strong, determined birds. Jumping and waddling on snow, they remind me of myself all suited up for the harsh weather. Even though they don't move quickly, they persevere up the steep slopes to their homes. Somehow these birds manage to scale hills and cliffs that the average human being would fail at. Penguins, they are so much more than cute, adorable birds.

A day at sea…a day with a parade…a procession of birds following the wake of the ship. Some of these birds stay on the open waters for years without ever seeing land...like Davy Jones...letting the sea become their home...their family. We have seen so many on this trip from the rare Antarctic Petrel, to Giant and Cape Petrels and Fulmars. Standing on the back deck, I watch them swoop and swirl in the wind...creating a rhythm dance. They are much more coordinated than us humans the walking on the Antarctic Dream. People knew what to expect, yet as the boat headed into the open and the rocking began, the uncoordination commenced as well. No land...only water. I went to the map and stared at it. I placed my finger on the water between Antarctica and the tip of South America. “This is where I am”. The space is so small yet takes two days to cross in good weather. As the world has shrunk in size with airplanes, this trip has taken the longest time for direct travel for any other international destination and I like it. Heading toward the front, I visited the captain of the ship. He had invited people to come up and visit anytime (one of the many pluses of traveling in a small vessel). It wasn't like steering a pirate boat, but the cabin did have a small helm along with several other instruments, lights and gadgets. Explaining a few of them to me, he then turned and showed a detailed map of our exact location. Suddenly an alarm sounded. A boat was sinking!!! What? Where? The captain explained that boats all over the world, are on the same system. This boat was in the tropics far from us and other ships had already responded to it's distressing cries. The winds were calm for this time of year, and we were making excellent time. I had to rely on trusting the captain’s experience and wisdom because as I looked out the captain's window the boat seemed to be playing leap frog with the waves. It wasn't the only time, I had to simply trust. I remembered just a few days earlier when we had run into our first ice berg. Sitting at dinner, suddenly there was a loud noise and a vibration. Looking out the window I could see light blue ice floating by. Normally I loved looking out the large glass windows, but not this time. The boat had struck an ice berg!!! AGHHHH! As my heart began to pound, I looked around and saw no one seemed panicked. The clanking of silverware, chatter and laughter continued as I took a deep breath. The noise returned as the boat shook again. Looking to the right of me, I saw the captain as well as a few other crew members. They didn't seem worried and then I remembered. This boat is an icebreaker. It can break ice that is up to 10 feet thick. Oh...breathing a sigh of relief I took a sip of wine and continued eating my amazing dessert. I am once more a bit seasick, but determined to make the most of this time. It's not every day that one travels across the Drake Passage. I have made a decision though. On board there are shirts that say “Drake Passage Survivor”. I'm definitely going to purchase one of those!

This is the last day upon the Antarctica Dream. I feel more than satisfied with the enormity of what I have seen and experienced. We continue to move at a fair pace despite the swells of the sea increasing. It sounds like tonight we will be celebrating the Captain's Farewell Dinner in the safety of sheltered waters. At the moment though, the boat still rocks. Breakfast included the rolling rolls and a crashing coffee cup. I wonder how it will feel to walk on solid ground again. Will I have wobbly sea legs on shore? The nausea feeling from yesterday is gone, and I am anticipating a few more great lectures down in the lower level. I love the depth of these lectures. Not only do they help pass the time, but I have learned a tremendous amount about Antarctica and nature. Farewell Dinner All the meals aboard this ship have been fancy three course meals, but tonight's dinner is a fantastic celebration. In the calm waters of the Beagle Channel, the dinning room is full of laughter. A man from Korea entertains us with songs. OH!!! I've never talked about the amazing diversity on board. All ages of people are on this vessel. There's the Hong Kong film crew, a brilliant medical group from Canada, a newly married couple from Eastern Europe and a whole group of recently retired people from Switzerland. There is a photographer from Ireland, a journalist from England and two travel agents from Germany and Sweden. There are a few Argentineans, Chileans and at least one guy’s from Bolivia I believe. Then there is the Korean couple who have entertained us the entire trip! The guy singing songs in a boisterous voice as we waited in line for the zodiacs. He could sing almost anything. His wife made us all laugh. Video camera in the right hand with photo camera in the left...ALWAYS. I don't think she saw much of the trip except through her lens. She taped the lectures, the dinners, EVERY minute. And tonight was no exception. She somehow had gotten a hold of a third camera and was operating all three at once!!! These are just some of the people from the boat. Emails are being exchanged and at times it feels like a strobe light is going off with the amount of photos being taken. Sharing in a glass a wine, people talk about their favorite moments as well as what they will do when they get back home. Two people have found romance on this trip, although I doubt it will work considering they live on different continents. The diversity of this group strikes me. We have so much we can learn from each other. I hope to stay in contact with at least a few of them.

Awakening in the dark, it took a few seconds to realize where I was....back in Ushuaia...in an amazing hotel. Pulling back the room darkening curtains, I was thankful for their usefulness. It appears that the sun had said hello hours ago, even though it was still quite early in the morning. Had I really just been in Antarctica? Heading down to the spa area, there was a resounding “yes” as I met up with a few of my new Canadian friends. Laughter and memories followed as we talked about some of the sights we had just seen. But this day had new memories of its own. After enjoying a warm soak, it was time for a hike up one of the many glaciers surrounding the town. We took a car to the base of Glacier Martial and then the climb began. Half the group took the ski lift, while the rest of us followed upstream. It was hard to take more than a few steps at a time, not from exhaustion, but from amazement as the view continued to improve. How could I not stop and take a few photos? There was the joyous creek weaving it's way amongst the trees, brush, rocks and usual flowers. In the opposite direction lay the scenic view of the valley with the bay beyond containing waters that led to Antarctica. Soon the ascent came to a halt as we walked past the snowline. The glacier surrounded us with occasional rocks emerging here and there making paths for the melting ice...mini waterfalls in the mist of ice and snow. The wind was cool, but not unbearable and as I stood there...accomplishment rung out from my heart. I had climbed a glacier! If only time could stand still for a few moments longer.

Boarding the plane, I reflected on past reactions I’d received when telling people I wanted to travel to Antarctica. “You want to go there?!?” a look of shock and then “Are you for real? Why?!? That's crazy!” It wasn't though. It was extraordinary wonderful. Yes I am young with a limited income, but I am also determined. How could I afford such an adventure as this? By dreaming and saving. Going to Antarctica was a goal since high school. Setting aside money every month, my friend Aarti and I planned this trip for years. Am I glad I did it? A simple “yes” does not emphatically stress my happiness and joy of this unbelievable voyage. I still smile just thinking about it. I am blessed to have experienced such an incredible journey, and the memories will last a life time. I have traveled to the bottom of the earth, and love to share a story or two when given the chance. People seem amazed that I have done such a thing, and I get to encourage them...at least a bit...to experience it for themselves. In this world of media, people think they've seen it all, but I say...being there in person is a voyage that one could never grasp from a National Geographic or PBS special. Antarctica stands out alone as a surreal land with crisp shades of beauty, adventure, discovery and awe. It leaves a priceless imprint on your heart. A n t a r c t i c a