Expedition to Antarctica comes to an end

February 26th, 2011: Back from a 10 days expedition to Antarctica I can’t possibly write at a level to help you experience what I saw all the way down here by the means of binary computer code in which you are now fixating on.

Of course I saw a multitude of penguin nudist colonies, crackling ice, treacherous penis shrinking water and was even fortunate enough to see the cartoon, “Happy Feet” which screened one night on the way back to human civilization. Obviously there was also a variety of birds, seals, sea whales and land whales in which miraculously through evolution are now able to walk on land with an extreme likeliness to humans. From weaving between icebergs, decrepit pale walking human corpses, living and dead hollowed out penguins, birds and sea lions…there were all memorable experiences for me to see.

The ship was not filled with the human colony of grey hairs in which I originally expected. Minus those few walking corpses, a lot of the people were rather young with many of them supporting much more head hair than me – whether it is natural or has pubic or back origin, I don’t know. Remember that my definition of “young” is fluid, in which is now...44 years old with an error margin of 5 + years with an upward trend the older I get. Of coarse there are exceptions to this definition, but this is just a general rule of “piggy that went to the market” – aka: your big toe.

My time on the boat when not on land, ice or in a Zodiac was filled with a variety of lectures in which I struggled to not sleep through and even worse…facially leak through - but was somewhat inevitable due to little hours of sleep and from the peaceful – at times extreme, rocking of the boat.

Being fed to the point of worrying about some potentially vicious self imposed stretch marks, I successfully packed down loads of amazing food, doubled up on desserts and heavily worked at attempting to empty three bottomless cookie jars that were available from 12:00am to 11:59pm. Toward the end of the trip I came to the conclusion that I will never be able to embark any sort of boat for a trip around the world without unintentionally creating job security for the medical industry that specializes in premature obesity.

Late nights of high school level discussions drawing out tears of laughter was something in which I didn’t expect from this expedition but truly enjoyed as my maturity dropped me to an age that I am unwilling to disclose.

Now that I am back on land, unable to go any farther south since it has already been done, I need to begin to make my way north. It is not that north is the only direction to go…I can think of two other directions…west and east. But for now heading north is my only option since my sister will be getting married in the next few weeks. I will be taking a 3.5 month break from traveling in South America and will be traveling around the US and Canada visiting family, old and new friends that I met along the way.

Returning to Buenos Aires in Argentina at the end of June, my South American journey will continue…but to where? This I don’t know…but starting March 4th, my North American journey will begin.

Temporary loss of an appendage in Antarctica

February 18th, 2011: Don’t know what got into me…perhaps, pure stupidity. For someone who would rather swim in a hot steamy outhouse in a pool of fecal matter before swimming in a cold river – today I voluntarily placed myself into perhaps the coldest body of water that I have ever been in, leaping into an icy bay with some goliath sized ice cubes. Originally organizing a group of individuals to join me in my stupidity to help me from backing out, all of them changed their minds when it was time to prepare for our infiltration into the water. A poor leader I must be, failing to lead my troops into a funnel of stupidity…so I did it alone.

Taking off from a dead start I began brainlessly running till the water was deep enough for a full frontal dive completely submerging myself, feeling as if I might have gone into a brief state of shock. Spinning around I did a mini-back float…and if my memory stands correctly, I added a mini-flutter kick for some style points before dashing to the edge of the water on the way out, getting a photo of myself holding a piece of ice as I stood there in my 2 year Jockey’s - thank god that they are naturally black (if they were white, I guess I would then be telling you about my chocolate-vanilla swirl Jockey’s – NOT a good visual). The camera toting individuals on the shore were surely admiring my pastiness, while amusingly noting how my appendage managed to mirror a turtle as I exited the water.

While catching the next Zodiac back to the ships conveniently placed sauna…my body performed a major workout attempting to keep warm as I convulsed in crack addict fashion – exhausted upon my arrival to the ship.

I still can’t believe I’m in Antarctica. I have not planned it, but I just realized today that I have officially explored all 7 continents. Not a goal I was striving for so it didn’t feel like a huge accomplishment but I did it never the less - so…what’s next?

*Please note that I uploaded a multitude of photos of this trip in my...Antarctica photo album.

Saving a Chinaman’s life with fishlike eyes

February 18th, 2011: Waking up this morning I thought I was going to do a lot of things in Antarctica but one of them was not saving an old Chinaman’s life. Did I really save his life? – well, let me say that I saved him from some great discomfort and perhaps some broken bones perhaps limiting himself from some late night action with his 70 year old wife in his suite on our ship.

Clearly Mr. Chinaman was walking up a snowy trail to a summit that he obviously shouldn’t have been on. Telling by his drunken walk of exhaustion, swaying left and right I was waiting for the obvious fall off the side...in which the right side of the trail was a steep angled slop supporting a high number of incalculable degrees with some rocks patiently awaiting a visitor.

Tipping over, he went to the right going face first with his $3,450.89 Canon camera necklace. My brain conveniently slowed time as he began a slow motion penguin slide on his man boobs down the slope. Quickly I lunged forward off the trail grabbing his toe of his boat with my pencil like fingers that somehow locked as if my hands morphed into the strength of pitbull’s jaw. His eyes became bigger than his oversized circular glasses as he looked at me in a panic.

As a scene from a poorly written action movie starring Keanu Reeves, I calmly said, “I got you buddy” to the old Chinaman. He tried to curl up to me with the abs that he lost some 40 year ago. As I managed to switch my grip to his frail forearm, I felt someone else grabbing my ankle to keep me from doing a head slide down the slope with the Chinaman.

Today, I was a hero to the Chinaman with big fishlike eyes as he graciously thanked me, when I should have been thanking him for a little bit of unexpected excitement for the day.

I predict a major boating accident in Antarctica…

February 14th, 2011: “Is there a photo of the Explorer?” I asked the travel consultant. Quickly looking up from her computer she fires off, “Don’t let them hear you say that.”

You see, I mistakenly asked for a ship that is no longer...in use, by GAP Adventures (the company I am I will soon be traveling with) thinking that the Explorer was the name of the ship I am going on - when it is actually the Expedition. Until November 17th, 2007 at 1900 hours, this ship no longer belonged to GAP Adventures, since at this time in submarine fashion it dived off the coast of Antarctica and parked itself at the bottom at a frigid depth of 1130 meters after hitting some less forgiving ice – making the insurance company its proud new owners.

I enjoy being reminded about things like this...30 hours prior to my departure on my 10 day expedition to Antarctica - it certainly makes things more exciting. But unfortunately, something extraordinary like this is unlikely to happen to me. My reasoning is quite simple…my parents pray for me too much.

I was just recently stripped of experiencing “Mr. Ferry meet Mr. Island” at 3am as the Navimag’s hull was torn during their introduction…taking in water, it created a delay on getting to Puerto Natales on its scheduled time. If I waited until just the next departure (7 days later), I would have been able to dawn my life vest awaiting for the signal to abandon ship creating a lifetime of better ferry stories besides my post about “Thong Girl.”

In addition to this boating mishap, I was about 2 weeks off when I was in the Galapagos Islands to experience the exciting emergency exit in the wee hours of the morning as the Comorant II (a different boat than what I was on) broke into pieces, sinking right after everyone was saved.

On this trip of mine to South America I have seemed to miss some rare sinking’s or boating accidents by just 2 weeks or less. With this said…I predict a major boating accident in Antarctica to happen in the next few weeks, but not involving me - that is unless, I kindly ask my parents to kindly cut down on the prayer.

*Photos: Explorer (Wikipedia), Navimag (La Prensa Austral) and the Comorant II (Sangay Touring)

Anthony Supertramp / Beaver Hunter

February 13th, 2011: Today I set off in Terra del Fuego National Park with a goal. My goal was to see a nice wet destructive furry North American Beaver. After about 5 hours of hiking I reached the Hoover dam of Beavers. I made myself a comfortable placement along its side and was ready to wait all day until a visual sighting.

After about 30 minute of patiently waiting with my camera along my side, ready to take a shot of a beaver as soon as it surfaced for some air, or better yet…watch its tail in action, back tailing her loved one who might have given her some lip – in this case, given her some teeth - laughing...I can think/write of the most supudist things.

Thinking about my positioning and lighting, I was reconsidering if I was in a good spot...until I thankfully overheard a tour guide’s spiel stating that beavers are...nocturnal. Being only 3 pm, I was not wanting to believe him so I stayed a little bit longer, hoping there was an insomniac beaver or even a workaholic so that I could still see one of them. I even tried to telepathically ask a beaver to show herself - obviously not working.

Leaving the park today I was unable to see a North American beaver here in South America. With better timing, a little work and a smidgen of luck, perhaps the next time I go beaver hunting, I will score some…photos. With some persistence and some good timing, the odds will hopefully be in my favor.

176,924 penguins – excluding the 12 dead decomposing ones

February 9th, 2011: Taking a extremely large zodiac on steroids, I with which a bunch of other camera touting tourists to Magdelena Island right outside Punto Arenas – a towns name that make me think, “ Punto Anus” every time I say it or type it. I left Argentina and came back into Chile just to see these penguins. On an official government pamphlet in which I was given by the park ranger upon entering the natural monument, read that there was something like 65,543 penguin couples.

How in the – how in the…heck, do they know there are 64,543 couples?! What about the single parents, widowers, divorcees, bachelors, bachelorettes and kids? The tour agency seemed to tell me conflicting information saying there was over 180,000 penguins - though was much better than only identifying the couples, but still…180,000 penguins? Needing to know the true number of penguins, I thought I should do thorough recount…counting only 176,924 penguins – which includes the 2 that were Siamese twins counting them as 4 penguins and excluded the 12 dead decomposing ones.

Through my observations most penguins are well mannered in front of others unlike dogs, monkeys or those human couples at Santiago’s spit guzzling park. I on this island I happily didn’t see any penguins performing any copulation – meaning no public monkey style or doggy style shows…even though thinking about it makes me laugh with their paddle like hands not being able to do much except for perhaps a little spanking here and there.

Being told before leaving to the island to expect a rough ride (the captain later telling me 3 to 5 meter waves/swells were common) I needed to choose my boat wisely. Picking what looked like the nicest zodiac out of the two to choose from, I noticed after boarding the boat that the people in the other boat actually had to put life preservers on – thinking that I must have picked the better boat since our captain must have had enough confidence in his boat for the 45 minute boat ride on the Strait of Magellan to get us there.

Seeing all the penguins here made me feel like I was robbed on the island, Chiloe which is also in Chile - making the big effort a few weeks back to reach that place to see penguins. In Chiloe, I saw more penguins made in China being sold as souvenirs than what I actually saw. After today, I will never have to go out of my way to see another penguin colony again…except for perhaps the animated one in the cartoon, “Happy Feet,” but no more than that.

A 8 year old child wielding a handgun at the border

October 8th, 2011: Today in customs while crossing the border back into Chile, an 8 year old was wielding around a black handgun – a black plastic toy gun to be more precise, but it looked like a black gun. Pointing it at others he would pull of a few imaginary rounds every so often at the people standing around. This was all taking place while some other kids seemed to be quite resourceful in the long lines, turning the giant x-ray machine back rollers into a human slide while I think that its real purpose was to examine everyones baggage for fruit smugglers.

Customs seems to be serious about outside fruit from entering the country…but what about black handguns? I hope this doesn’t give any arms dealers any bright ideas but this wouldn’t be a bad idea if you needed to pass a shipment through…just give a school bus load of kids some unloaded handguns. But most importantly…make sure their parents didn’t pack the kids any fruit in their lunch boxes if you want to make sure they make it across the border without any problems.

The great peaks of El Chalten and my roommates…Ms. Peaks

February 6th, 2011: Walking into my 6 bed dorm at precisely 4:47pm after a long day of tramping around and taking photos of the numerous spectacular peaks that horseshoe the town of El Chalten…I overheard two girls whispering on the bottom bunk on the other side of the dorm. It sounded as if they were having a serious talk - thinking that girls are funny that when they have problems how they can just lay in single bed with each other just chatting away…if guys do something like that, you are gay.

Tired and not being in a social mood to talk to the two girls from Berkeley (California), I dug out my backpack from my locker, preparing for an exciting time of giving my backpack an abortion so that I can close it – yes, my backpack somehow got to be pregnant again. Hearing one of the girls asking me a question, I looked over to answer her - I was taken by surprise.

There she laid in bed naked with her arms behind her head exposing her peaks with a sheet covering only her shrubbery with another naked girl who supported hairy armpits next to her side - but she was fully blanketed. No, I don’t have Superman or TSA supervision to see through the sheets…Ms. Pits changed in front of me yesterday as we went over the basic dreaded backpacker questions with a topless twist on what is my name, where I am from, how long I have been traveling for, shoe size – blah, blah and blah.

Turning back around after I did a double, triple, and a quadruple take as I tried to bit on my inner checks to keep from smiling and to not laugh. What do I do to get myself into these strange hostel predicaments? - this can’t be happening…it just can’t be. What I walked in on was not just a casual conversation about a new design (god forbid) or knot used for their hippy bracelets/necklaces they must secretly sell on the side. What was taking place right before my ears was what lesbians MUST do better than guys after sex…talk. I should have listened to this conversation of theirs so that I could have picked up some pointers - instead of just asking the typical backpacker questions…what is your name, etc – laughing.

Ms. Peaks continued to talk to me as I leaned against a bed on the floor with my back turned as I multitasked, continuing to go through with my backpacks abortion. It seemed strange talking to them with my back turned, so every so often I would turn around and try to look at the girl with hairy armpits in the eye…I had some success. Then I would turn back around right before I couldn’t hold a straight face any longer. Ms. Peaks said I must have seen a lot while traveling as long as I did. I agreed and wanted to say that what I am seeing now might have been the weirdest, but I refrained.

Not finished, I zipped my backpack, deciding that it was time for me to take a well needed shower, so that they can finish…talking. I wasn’t even sure if I should have taken a shower so soon after our conversation because I didn’t want them to think it was because of them…but at this point, it didn’t seem to matter.

Dorm life…today was filled with peaks and adventure outside and inside my dorm. Traveling has a tendency to hand you stories without the need to even search for them…they seem to just happen at the weirdest times and places.

National Geographic photo shoot with a disposable camera

February 2, 2011: Today I was able to see the Perito Moreno Glacier via boat, bus and by my very own two 12 inch flat feet as I walked on the boardwalk of unbelievable web-like proportions. Observing what I could only have dreamt or watched on the National Geographic Channel in the past…I was so close to this huge-chunkus glacier, which according to Wikipedia is 30 km (19 mi) long, 5 km (3 mi) wide and 74 meters (240 ft) above the water with a total ice depth of 170 meters (558 ft).

When a section of ice would pull itself free from the glacier, it would do a spectacular cannonball like dive into the frigid water sending water shooting up to great heights disappearing before eventually resurfacing as it would come up for air. This was so unbelievably dream-like; it would cause my legs to shake – though I can only speculate that my shaky legs were the result of my eyes seeing something so surreal, that my body did not know how to react. Thankfully for me, my body didn’t decide to cry a river so I will not complain about my leg shake - though if compromised…can easily be covered up by a nice little lie by saying that I was cold.

Today, I truly felt as if I was right on a National Geographic photo shoot with my disposable camera slung around my neck. Photo or no photo…it was one of the greatest shows on earth.