Force 11 Storm

Force 11 storm. Expedition news, transmitted by satellite. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . We spent more than two days in the bay with the waterfalls, riding out the storm, with winds of up to 40 knots. The evening before, the young sailor and I managed to get ashore and slip out between snow showers. There is a tree of fame in the bay, where every boat nails up its own wooden plaque. We found a greeting from our friends aboard Makore: Lada’s friends Zoe and Margot and their French-Australian parents. We screwed up a greeting of our own too, so if any of you ever end up there, in Silva Bay, send us photos of the inscription from our crew, burned into the wood with a soldering iron/wood burner. Lada expertly leads a tour of the waterfalls and little cascades, chirping away about all sorts of things. As always, the moment I have barely put the camera back in its case, I spot something worth capturing and take it out again. Slipping on some slimy substance, I sigh: “Oh, I think I’m getting a headache.” “Mum, let’s go already, or it’ll be dark soon. You’ve got photomania, and the headache is a beat-you-up effect—you know, the one that beats everybody up, and it’s got you over the head.” . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. You cannot walk directly to our stream; you have to climb up first. The young sailor noticed that too. “It’s funny, isn’t it, Mum—to go down, you first have to go up.” We gathered a final potful of mussels and gobbled them down without any ill effects. Stas Lurie, thank you—we have taken note of your warning about red tide and the mortal danger. We’ll live without mussels. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. That was how we explored the waterfall bay on the eve of the storm. We waited for the wind to ease to 20 knots, then made a dash directly into it for another 12 miles towards the Strait of Magellan. In the bay of a little horseshoe-shaped island called Isla del Medio, we secured ourselves to the shore with four lines. It was quite a ride: the wind kept blowing the dinghy out into the strait, and we kept bringing it back. We added more lines, watched them, and retied them. Hail lashed painfully against our cheeks. We are riding out the storm now. The wind is at 50 knots, gusting up to 55 (almost 100 km/h). Ducks are flying backwards, and the trees are bending over. We’re holding a cooking contest. At the moment it has eased to 30 knots. Flight normal. More details tomorrow. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . You can follow the expedition in real time on our website under the Route tab, where our Iridium track is displayed. A map with the track and details is also available at bit.ly/iridium360. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. A huge thank-you to Vladimir S. for breathing life into the expedition budget via Paypal.me/TravelyFamily! Can you feel yourselves riding out the storm with us? Big hugs!