THE CRUISE THAT'S REALLY MORE OF AN EXPEDITION
Seasickness, cabin fever, buffet fatigue - these were just some of my concerns. The fact that we were heading to the Antarctic from the Falkland Islands was the least of my worries.
To a confirmed landlubber such as myself, the Spirit Of Adventure certainly had the appearance of a cruise ship, and, as we left Port Stanley in the Falklands, the drinks reception in the fourth-deck lounge certainly felt like something I'd always imagined one would do on a cruise. Apparently, though, I was labouring under a misapprehension.
'This is not a cruise,' said Captain Frank Allica, a straight-talking Aussie. It was a warning to anyone who thought that the voyage would be all cocktails and lazy games of shuffleboard. 'This is an expedition. The Antarctic is a dangerous place if it's not treated with respect.'
The expedition had begun three days earlier in Buenos Aires, but I'd flown into Port Stanley to meet the ship, the island's military history and penguin colonies proving unexpectedly diverting.
As a child of the Eighties, my expectations of the Falklands had been somewhat bleak, but tourism, it seems, is thriving. Eating homemade game pie at the Sea Cabbage Cafe at Bluff Cove with baby penguins curiously nudging my feet was an early expedition highlight.
There would be no land for a couple of days as we - the Spirit was carrying around 180 passengers - set a course for the Antarctic Peninsula, 750 nautical miles due south of the Falklands, through the Bransfield Strait and past the South Shetland Islands.
With nothing but grey seas for 48 hours, it was a good opportunity to get to know the ship. Specialising in exploratory journeys, the Spirit felt like a large luxury yacht and the cabins were spacious. As I sat in the bar enjoying the nightly entertainment, from quizzes to live music, an expedition was the last thing on my mind.
By day, on-board wildlife and geographical guides presented daily lectures and briefing sessions so that we could make the most of our time on land.
On the second evening, some crockery-shaking waves reminded us of Captain Allica's warning. I had a new-found respect not only for the captain and his crew, but also the waiters who managed to serve soup without any spillages. The captain's wake-up call came early the next morning, informing us that we'd made it to the peninsula, and our first stop of Waterboat Point (a Chilean research station - the Antarctic is governed by an international treaty).
Looking out, I was overcome by the beauty of the landscape: ice floes, snowy mountains and a flat, intensely blue ocean surrounded us, and the immediate urge to explore was quickly met. The ship employs four Zodiacs - small inflatable craft that serve as landing vessels, and groups are taken ashore in strict rotation (Antarctic Treaty environmental agreements mean only a certain number of people can be ashore at any one time).
In the Antarctic, summer temperatures are around zero, though with our standard-issue jackets and rain pants, we were well equipped for any sudden changes. As we disembarked, we were welcomed by the ship's exploration expert, Dr Beau Riffenburgh, who told us how to behave around the wildlife. Gentoo penguins squawked about their fluffy newborn chicks and seals sunbathed at the edge of the water.
In the afternoon, we were taken out to nearby Paradise Harbour whose huge ice cliffs and icebergs shining blue in the sunlight were startling. The scene was topped off perfectly by a school of minke whales which passed by nonchalantly.
This was to be the pattern of things as The Spirit wended its way down the peninsula. In between ports, usually just tens of miles apart, the decks were busy with whale and dolphin watchers, and 80-odd species of bird were eventually logged.
Port Lockroy is a rocky British research base on the other side of the Lemair Channel from Paradise Harbour.
As we landed, the snow blew in horizontally and Port Lockroy's three British Antarctic Survey employed residents were cosy inside a shelter that doubles as the world's most southerly Royal Mail office (complete with red post box).
Postcards were duly bought and dispatched. From there, we sailed south through Atlantic Sound ('Iceberg Alley'), a 30-mile stretch with the most incredible weather-sculpted icebergs, serene and impassive.
Next stop was the jagged terrain of Paulet Island, home to a 250,000-strong colony of Gentoo and Adelie penguins, with breeding pairs and chicks as far as you could see. Such were the numbers, at times you imagined that if only the penguins could organise themselves, they could overwhelm us and make off with our cameras, camcorders and cleft sticks.
Back on board, I spoke to fellow guest Margot Wilson, 62, a threecruise veteran from West Sussex. She rated The Spirit Of Adventure as 'absolutely fabulous', and said: 'Travelling on my own, I love the informal atmosphere and all the lectures - I feel like I'm learning new things every day.'
The ship drew up to Deception Island, where we were told we could go swimming - not as dangerous as it sounds as the waters within the bay are heated by geothermal springs. We waited to see if the weather would allow us to sail into the bay, the entrance being a narrow passage that required skilful navigation, even in calm conditions.
However, the winds stirred up and the snow came down in flurries, and with an apology for the conditions and the 'confused sea', Captain Allica decided not to risk it (there had been a couple of recent cruise ship groundings) and we reluctantly turned around.
The nature of the region - as is explained carefully to anyone booking - means many parts of the expedition are dependent on the weather.
It's disappointing, but safety is paramount, and as we sailed back north the 580-ish nautical miles to our final port of Ushuaia at the tip of Tierra del Fuego, Captain Allica made sure to take in highlights including Cape Horn and the Magellan Straits.
As it turned out, I needn't have worried about the cruising cliches. My first voyage proved to be an adventure far more memorable than sunbathing and shuffleboard.
Seasickness, cabin fever, buffet fatigue - these were just some of my concerns. The fact that we were heading to the Antarctic from the Falkland Islands was the least of my worries.
To a confirmed landlubber such as myself, the Spirit Of Adventure certainly had the appearance of a cruise ship, and, as we left Port Stanley in the Falklands, the drinks reception in the fourth-deck lounge certainly felt like something I'd always imagined one would do on a cruise. Apparently, though, I was labouring under a misapprehension.
'This is not a cruise,' said Captain Frank Allica, a straight-talking Aussie. It was a warning to anyone who thought that the voyage would be all cocktails and lazy games of shuffleboard. 'This is an expedition. The Antarctic is a dangerous place if it's not treated with respect.'
The expedition had begun three days earlier in Buenos Aires, but I'd flown into Port Stanley to meet the ship, the island's military history and penguin colonies proving unexpectedly diverting.
As a child of the Eighties, my expectations of the Falklands had been somewhat bleak, but tourism, it seems, is thriving. Eating homemade game pie at the Sea Cabbage Cafe at Bluff Cove with baby penguins curiously nudging my feet was an early expedition highlight.
There would be no land for a couple of days as we - the Spirit was carrying around 180 passengers - set a course for the Antarctic Peninsula, 750 nautical miles due south of the Falklands, through the Bransfield Strait and past the South Shetland Islands.
With nothing but grey seas for 48 hours, it was a good opportunity to get to know the ship. Specialising in exploratory journeys, the Spirit felt like a large luxury yacht and the cabins were spacious. As I sat in the bar enjoying the nightly entertainment, from quizzes to live music, an expedition was the last thing on my mind.
By day, on-board wildlife and geographical guides presented daily lectures and briefing sessions so that we could make the most of our time on land.
On the second evening, some crockery-shaking waves reminded us of Captain Allica's warning. I had a new-found respect not only for the captain and his crew, but also the waiters who managed to serve soup without any spillages. The captain's wake-up call came early the next morning, informing us that we'd made it to the peninsula, and our first stop of Waterboat Point (a Chilean research station - the Antarctic is governed by an international treaty).
Looking out, I was overcome by the beauty of the landscape: ice floes, snowy mountains and a flat, intensely blue ocean surrounded us, and the immediate urge to explore was quickly met. The ship employs four Zodiacs - small inflatable craft that serve as landing vessels, and groups are taken ashore in strict rotation (Antarctic Treaty environmental agreements mean only a certain number of people can be ashore at any one time).
In the Antarctic, summer temperatures are around zero, though with our standard-issue jackets and rain pants, we were well equipped for any sudden changes. As we disembarked, we were welcomed by the ship's exploration expert, Dr Beau Riffenburgh, who told us how to behave around the wildlife. Gentoo penguins squawked about their fluffy newborn chicks and seals sunbathed at the edge of the water.
In the afternoon, we were taken out to nearby Paradise Harbour whose huge ice cliffs and icebergs shining blue in the sunlight were startling. The scene was topped off perfectly by a school of minke whales which passed by nonchalantly.
This was to be the pattern of things as The Spirit wended its way down the peninsula. In between ports, usually just tens of miles apart, the decks were busy with whale and dolphin watchers, and 80-odd species of bird were eventually logged.
Port Lockroy is a rocky British research base on the other side of the Lemair Channel from Paradise Harbour.
As we landed, the snow blew in horizontally and Port Lockroy's three British Antarctic Survey employed residents were cosy inside a shelter that doubles as the world's most southerly Royal Mail office (complete with red post box).
Postcards were duly bought and dispatched. From there, we sailed south through Atlantic Sound ('Iceberg Alley'), a 30-mile stretch with the most incredible weather-sculpted icebergs, serene and impassive.
Next stop was the jagged terrain of Paulet Island, home to a 250,000-strong colony of Gentoo and Adelie penguins, with breeding pairs and chicks as far as you could see. Such were the numbers, at times you imagined that if only the penguins could organise themselves, they could overwhelm us and make off with our cameras, camcorders and cleft sticks.
Back on board, I spoke to fellow guest Margot Wilson, 62, a threecruise veteran from West Sussex. She rated The Spirit Of Adventure as 'absolutely fabulous', and said: 'Travelling on my own, I love the informal atmosphere and all the lectures - I feel like I'm learning new things every day.'
The ship drew up to Deception Island, where we were told we could go swimming - not as dangerous as it sounds as the waters within the bay are heated by geothermal springs. We waited to see if the weather would allow us to sail into the bay, the entrance being a narrow passage that required skilful navigation, even in calm conditions.
However, the winds stirred up and the snow came down in flurries, and with an apology for the conditions and the 'confused sea', Captain Allica decided not to risk it (there had been a couple of recent cruise ship groundings) and we reluctantly turned around.
The nature of the region - as is explained carefully to anyone booking - means many parts of the expedition are dependent on the weather.
It's disappointing, but safety is paramount, and as we sailed back north the 580-ish nautical miles to our final port of Ushuaia at the tip of Tierra del Fuego, Captain Allica made sure to take in highlights including Cape Horn and the Magellan Straits.
As it turned out, I needn't have worried about the cruising cliches. My first voyage proved to be an adventure far more memorable than sunbathing and shuffleboard.