January 10, 1999 ~ Paradise Bay, Antarctica
At last we set foot on Antarctica. Up to this point we had been exploring the South Shetland Islands just off shore from the continent. We landed at an Argentinian research station. It was not operating this year because of lack of funds. Some of our people climbed a snowy hill and used large heavy-weight garbage bags to toboggan down. Not much to see at this stop. We then boarded the zodiacs for a scenic tour of the bay. We saw some cormorants and the rookeries of Blue Eyed Shags. Also spotted seals resting on small icebergs calved from the glaciers around the bay.
The wind and water have carved the icebergs to form shapes ranging from abstract designs to familiar objects. Among them were: The Newfoundland fisherman, a cathedral, Chinese Fu dog, lion’s head, Leaning Tower of Pisa, a venetian gondola, a Gothic building supported by a flying buttress and others. At the first landing, someone built a snow woman and decorated it with the women’s ascot available in the ship’s gift shop.
Other than these beautiful ice sculptures, the scene is generally forbidding – Tall black stone mountains streaked with snow and with valleys filled with glaciers. The fog lifting and falling providing an occasional peek at sunshine. A good place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there.
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My Grandpa and I both had big dreams. They each involved heading south, to remote parts of the world. These destinations captured our introverted hearts; his to Antarctica, mine to Easter Island. I wish he were around today so I could share my excitement and joy, to trade notes and tales from far away.
July 2023 ~ Isla de Pascua
Each of us is an island. We go about our days, carrying with us our own thoughts and experiential baggage. Should we pass through the same environments or events as someone else, like with siblings or partners, for example, we tend to form our own memories and opinions, which shape our days and actions ahead. It’s pretty lonely, sometimes, being an island. No one can ever quite understand fully how you feel.
I’m at a loss for words. Nothing I can write would even begin to capture our experience of being on Easter Island. I could just leave you with some photos, they say those are worth a thousand words each, but even a hundred images wouldn’t do this volcanic island justice. Not everyone is going to get a chance to visit this place. Heck, some people haven’t even heard of it. This island, in particular, is the most isolated inhabited place on Earth and barely shows up as a dot on the map. How’s that for hard to relate to?
I’ve never felt so deeply on a trip before. The sights or adventures usually take top tier, but not here. Describing the emotions and feelings that rippled through our hearts is perhaps the best way to start wrangling in some semblance of my thoughts.
Relief // Elation. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the smile that appeared on Moose’s face when the plane touched down at our final destination. This was our first trip by air since the start of Covid and it was also our belated honeymoon, not to mention it’s been on my radar since I was eight years old. Needless to say, this place held a lot of weight already. Three long flights and 48 hours later we find ourselves on the teeny island in the South Pacific. We were thrilled, and a little in a state of disbelief, at where we were and what we had just done! This was the place I needed to see before I die. I looked at flights dozens of times over the years but never pulled the trigger until now. It felt, and still feels, like a dream.
Awe. Our AirBnB host, Tito, drove us around Hanga Roa and gave us a little run-down of the town after he picked us up from the airport. He pointed out some must-try restaurants, points of interest, like the church, where to go buy our national park pass, etc. As we reached the far end of the town and rounded the last corner before heading back to his place, we saw our first moai statue. I batted at Moose’s arm repeatedly, amazed at what lay before our eyes! I should have kept track of how many Holy Cows and other excited expletives that were uttered. There were plenty.
I know that Easter Island is an island, but in all the pictures I’d seen of the place, none ever really showed the ocean. The turquoise colored water, with sizable, surfable waves, sort of blew my mind. I wasn’t expecting that! I should have anticipated, probably, but it was a fun surprise to see the churning azure froth just beyond the cliff’s edge from where the stone statues stood.
Relaxed. There’s something so soothing to me about being on a tropical island. Maybe it’s the colorful plants and flowers. Maybe it’s the ocean air. Maybe it’s the fact that we were 2,300 miles from the nearest civilization and had not a care in the world. There are no stoplights, no high-rises or resorts, no horns honking, no tvs blaring the “news” and getting your blood pressure up in Hanga Roa. It’s simple, not pretentious, and just perfect. I’m just happy on an island, this one in particular. Even though this place is isolated physically, I never felt lonely or bored. You have to want to be here, and we did.
Heartwarmed. I think the kindness of the folks we encountered is what stands out most for me on this trip. It’s not the famous towering moai statues, it’s the generosity and warmth we were shown. Anthony Bourdain’s line about his host’s hospitality rings in my head: “giving till it hurts.” We were taken in, hugged, fed, loved, with no expectations of anything in return. If kindness were a currency, the people of Rapa Nui would be some of the wealthiest I’ve ever encountered.
LETTERS FROM MONSTER 