Not many ships venture into the Drake Passage, 500 miles of heave and blow between the fjords of southern Chile and the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula. At these latitudes, there is nothing but icy cold ocean, 360 degrees of it. With no landmass to break the wind's fetch, a ship can expect to run into waves that are two, three, even five stories high. Sailing crews consider these the most treacherous seas on the planet.
This afternoon, the Drake is living up to its reputation. As near-hurricane-force winds slam growing swells into the research vessel Nathaniel B. Palmer, scientists below deck scurry to lash down computer terminals and plaster lab equipment with bubble wrap. Off the starboard side, a cavalcade of hulking waves begins to line up, each ready to take a nice swing at the ship. Deck hands pelted by frozen sea spray and snow stagger like drunks. The barrage of these ice bullets comes in horizontal, so fierce it’s impossible to keep my eyes open for more than a moment. But in that moment, I have the unfortunate luck to glimpse the frenzied ocean over my shoulder. I have read that people drown in seas like these because there’s so much wind-whipped water in the air that even if you can keep your head above the surface, you cannot draw a breath. Of course, if unprotected by a suit, you’ll lose consciousness in seas this cold after one and a half minutes anyway.
