Feb 23 - Sailing around Cape Horn (Atlantic to Pacific)

DONNA KAY PHILLIPS : It's a balmy 47º, with dramatically flat cloud cover this Southern summer's day heading around Isla Tierra del Fuego. Last night we came back after dinner to discover that the Captain had invited us to the bridge for the sail around Cape Horn at 2pm. To be able to see this crew creating history with a Carnival ship in some of the most challenging water in the world, is a high that is very hard to explain, needless to say we are STOKED!!

We hurried through lunch with my folks and the Dodero's then scurried up to the bridge where we joined about 30 other guests for the experience. There is a genuine sense of adventure amongst most of the passengers, most hoping for big water and challenging conditions, it's what we've all come for, we expect the Horn to bite back and we're bracing for it in the best viewing position on the ship.

The last few islands that we pass on the way to Cape Horn are craggy and ominous in the gray sky and pitchy gray seas. We are accompanied by Skuas, Cormorans and the Albatross, easily gliding over the rough waters with an 11 ft wing span. Add 75 mph gusts of wind and sleet and the "end of the world" vibe is intact.

Pietro shows us around the instrument panels and informs me that we have approx 100 ft of water under the keel, a good amount, but not like the open ocean with 9,000 ft.

There are may waves breaking out off the visible land, revealing massive rocks just beneath the surface, not hard to imagine why this is such a challenging thing - sailing AROUND the Horn.

The ship's crew is merrily running out onto the bow in their parkas and hats and gloves to take pictures, they are giddy children and I feel so good for them being able to take some time from their demands and to experience this with us all. A few insane types strip off their shirts for extreme pics against the fierce backdrop.

We arrive at Cape Horn with the Chilean flag and Lighthouse on our Port side. A lifeboat is dispatched with officer's, crew and photographers that are sent out to battle the massive swells to cove where they will climb the steps to the Lighthouse to receive a plaque for the Carnival Splendor for making the journey.

It is nothing short of a perilous site watching as the tiny catamaran lifeboat sails off into the gray sleet out of view as we sail towards the Pacific without them.

As we pull to the far west side of the Horn, Poseidon's mood shifts. There is very little visibility as we are enveloped in sleeting gray. Massive waves breaking hard against craggy rocks are barely noticeable on our port side as we round the coast and into the Pacific. The winds blow the sea spray violently to the left side of the ship, the sheer auditory volume of the wind against the double pained glass is dramatic.

The ship pitches and rolls but handles the big water very well, I suspect the stabilizers have been engaged at this point. While she pushes on into the headwinds of the Pacific, then the Antarctic, walking across the bridge becomes pretty hilarious to watch. One minute you are running, the next climbing up hill.

We finally come back around into the Atlantic, the Lifeboat radios the bridge and the staff captain responds by using the Port steering console to position the Splendor to receive her Tender on the leward side, protecting her from the high winds. Meanwhile, sea lions breach, albatross and cormorans dive over and under our bow and the gray seas swirl.

Within minutes the tender rejoins the ship and we are underway, briefly back into the Atlantic as we enter the channel westward to the southernmost town of Ushuaia where we will take a train to the end of the world tomorrow. We will sleep even better tonight after this emotionally charged experience and with the serious roll of the ship. - a very grateful dkp