At the bottom of the world, we see mountains upside-down in the water's reflection. So still is the Lemaire Channel that the picture of the cliffs above is mirrored precisely on the surface, broken only by the electric blue of icebergs drifting by. To complete the picture, we set all the squares and push peacefully through the brash, the quiet hum of the engines not enough to disturb humpbacks sleeping on the surface nearby, their backs glowing in white sunlight. Dwarfed by glaciers on both sides, what Europa lacks in size she makes up for in the pride shared by all who sail on her, the ocean wanderer.

The channel widens gently as we approach the Argentine Islands and soon, above the hubbub of lunchtime, the heavy clatter of the anchor going out signals we have arrived at our next destination. Vernadsky Station and the Wordie Hut is the order of business, and soon voyage crew are ashore to explore the large research station that twenty-four Ukrainians call home. The scientists here are exceedingly friendly and we pay our thanks with a basket of fresh fruit for them. I am touched by how they talk about their home country: one scientist struggles to say if he is excited to return home soon, to a country he loves, so ravaged by war. He just looks forward to seeing his family again.

Lying at anchor, we have time to celebrate our good fortune on deck. As the sun goes down, we ask if we will see a day as beautiful as this again. The sun will return tomorrow, and it will bring a different day, but why compare beauty in a world as perfect as this?

Goodnight

Fair Winds, fair thoughts, fair sailing.

Mattias and Bark Europa Crew