After an evening cruise down the Beagle Channel, the rolling waves of the Drake Passage began to perform. There had been high winds for several days so we expected a rougher than average crossing. These waves were different. There were no breaking crests, no slamming of the boat, just endless incessant rolling – 40 degree rolls. Making this passage was like being rocked by an over-zealous mother. The gray skies blocked any trace of sunlight. No crests, no distinctive clouds, no light; this was one of the less picturesque crossings I’ve made. Fevers at night, daily headaches, and slight nausea put a final damper on the whole affair for me.

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