I don’t get seasick. Not under normal circumstances. But as I stood in the wheelhouse of expedition cruise ship Stella Australis, the perfect storm of a dawn shore excursion, followed by a bellyful of cooked breakfast – plus a “warming” mug of hot grog – conspired to leave me feeling a little nauseous.
There was also a very literal storm brewing, causing the horizon to see-saw dramatically as we navigated Drake Passage, the most notorious sailing route on Earth, named after Sir Francis Drake, who was blown off-course here during his 1578 circumnavigation of the globe. The stretch of water between Cape Horn, the southernmost tip of South America, and Antarctica is many a mariner’s graveyard.
The 29th of this month will mark 400 years since the discovery of Cape Horn, when a Dutch ship, the Eendracht, made the first recorded voyage through the passage. Captained by Willem Schouten, he named the island after his home town of Hoorn.
My expedition was a little less arduous: a four-night cruise from Punta Arenas in Chilean Patagonia to the world’s southernmost city, Ushuaia, in Argentina. It would take in excursions to glaciers, sub-polar forests and penguin colonies, and land on Cape Horn itself. Australis is one of few cruise lines that allow passengers to set foot on the island; though whether it can sail through Drake Passage depends on the weather.
We’d arrived at Isla Hornos by stealth, sneaking in via the fjords and glacial alleys that riddle the Tierra del Fuego archipelago. The sea was uncharacteristically calm as we climbed into the inflatable boat, lifejacket-clad, and watched the legendary rock, a sheer 425-metre rocky promontory, bob toward us.
A stark figure strode across its windswept hilltop, his black frock coat flapping in the breeze as he descended a winding cliff-side staircase, incongruous against the bleak backdrop. This was José Aguayo, a second sergeant in the Chilean navy, two weeks into a year-long posting as Cape Horn’s lighthouse keeper. In his pressed black-and-whites he reminded me of the Magellanic penguins that had waddled up to us on the beaches of the Tuckers Islets a few days earlier.
The romantic might imagine this solitary sailor’s situation as the epitome of isolation. But José had chosen this posting as a way of being with his wife Natalia and their two young children instead of being away on a ship for months at a time. “We’ve not had time to go stir-crazy yet,” insisted José, as Natalia appeared, smiling, at his side. “I have to bake my own bread, home-school my children … and, of course, prepare the lighthouse for the celebrations.”
The 400th anniversary will be marked with a televised “parade of sails” around the island. It will be broadcast across the world and attended by Chilean president Michelle Bachelet and Dutch dignitaries; a lot of eyes will be on that lonely lighthouse.
As cruise destinations go, Cape Horn, surrounded by notoriously treacherous waters and blasted by gale-force winds known to sailors as the Furious Fifties, is not the most obvious holiday choice.
Nevertheless, this ship accommodates up to 210 passengers and my fellow travellers were a diverse bunch: a couple of French-Canadian pastry chefs; a Swiss backpacker; a pizzeria owner from Iowa; a Californian socialite and her retired husband Jim, cousin to Dick Cheney, he told me. Despite en suite showers, à la carte dinners, and endless canapés and cocktails, it felt as though we were on a genuine adventure.
Since the Panama Canal opened in 1914, allowing vessels to take the shortcut through Central America, “rounding the Horn” has become the preserve of thrill-seekers. So few people pass through Drake’s Passage now that, without need of monument or edifice, there’s a palpable connection with the past, and the feeling you’re following in the footsteps of illustrious company.
We saw bus-sized chunks of ice break off vast glaciers, the reverberant cracking sound following afterwards like thunder. Condors soared above the world’s southernmost forest.
As we milled around on the Horn, chatting with José, a member of our ship’s crew arrived hurriedly to tell us: “If we leave right now we can actually sail around Cape Horn. Conditions are only calm enough a few times a year. Let’s go!”
Back on the bridge, I finished my hot rum and watched third officer Ignacio Vasquez chart our progress on paper with a pencil and dividers. As we moved out into Drake Passage, the wind picked up, the ship began to roll, and my stomach churned. Crockery crashed and various objects slid off tables. Ignacio marked a line out of the chart and into the void of the southern margin: we were off the map. My head spun. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and reminded myself it wasn’t the end of the world.
• The cruise was provided by Australis (australis.com) whose four night all-inclusive trip on the Stella Australis costs from $1,440pp and runs from September to April
• This article was updated on 18 January to correct the caption which said the view from the cruise ship was of Cape Horn. The view is of the Darwin ranges.
