Adventure is a state of mind

Wind directions, projectile vomit, humungous swells and trepidation

“The Sun came up upon the left,
Out of the sea came he!
And he shone bright, and on the right
Went down into the sea.”

That’s just Samuel Coleridge’s way of telling us that his ship was going south – and I’ve always loved it. And in our case, the sun did come up, upon our left, out of the sea.

When you travel on land, there’s a defined set of landmarks – an old, gnarled tree or an impressive chain of mountains, or geographic features to orient you. At sea, your best indicator is the rising and setting sun, and of course the stars (if you know how to read them!). The land has characters which show you the way, and assure you you’re headed in the right direction, while the sea, it would seem, has nothing. This isn’t strictly true – a seasoned sailor will tell you that all seas have character. For instance, the Arabian Sea is ‘predictable’ – with terrible winds, rain and swells during the monsoon and mirror-calm waters in the winter; while the only thing you can predict about the Bay of Bengal, is the unpredictability. The part of the world ocean that I’m writing about is the southern part of the Indian Ocean and the Southern (or Antarctic) Ocean. If you accessed a map of the world, you will see that the latter is the only belt of water that goes all the way around the world, without being blocked be a landmass. It is a connecting link between the three largest oceans in the world and a constant east flowing Antarctic Circumpolar current (ACC) which helps to keep the water in all the oceans well mixed. The ACC is also known as the ‘West wind drift’, which isn’t just a romantic name either – like most other surface currents in the world, it is generated and driven directly by the constant movement of the air above it. To put it simply, winds which are strong enough and last long enough over a body of water will drag the water below with them, in that direction (such circulation is called ‘wind driven circulation’ – clever, eh?). The ACC is a strong current, driven by strong winds and neither is hindered by landmasses, which tend to make them less ‘awesome’.

So anyway, all there strong winds and strong currents build up very powerful weather phenomenon around the Antarctic continent, so much so that beyond the 40 Degree Latitude, each belt has a ‘fancy’ name – and if you’re travelling south from the equator, you pass the roaring forties, the furious fifties and the shrieking sixties, before ultimately reaching Antarctica. It was these infamous latitudes that I had unwittingly agreed to cross, in the name of science and adventure.

We weren’t at the scary part yet, though. Over our first few days, the weather was anything but fair, while we sailed south from Mauritius (at about 20 South). The winds were strong nonetheless and the swells were more ‘robust’ than what I’m used to. I got an unforgettable demonstration of the wind force on the very first day, when some of us went up to the bow of the ship, despite some not yet having strong sea legs. One member (whose identity I shall withhold) suddenly had to throw up and so he ran up to side, about 12 feet ahead of me and was vomiting in the most dignified manner possible. The wind, meanwhile was so strong that portions of the projectiles which were going into sea got blown away in the opposite direction – up, over the head of the project-er and back aft and then all over my t-shit. (I couldn’t possibly make something like this up, folks). So much for science and adventure.

That evening, one of the members (not the projectile vomiting one) wanted to go up on the monkey deck (the deck above the Wheelhouse, where the ship was steered), to set up some of his equipment – and he dragged me and one other person along – just for ‘company’. (I think he was afraid he’d slip off the stairs and fall into the sea before fun really began). This is what I wrote in my Journal about my trip to the Monkey Deck (pasted here, without editing):

Watching the vessel cut through the high swells from up top made me, for a fraction of a second think, “Ah! Excitement! This is what it’s all about, in the end – the thrill!” Only a fraction of a second though. Then the dread of what lay ahead and the longing to go back to land came sweeping back.

The sense of foreboding that we had during those first few days at sea was significant. But within the week we had started our work, in full force – and it became our primary concern to be able to work properly at all times. This took most of the dread off, I guess; and by the time the real fun began and we were really getting tossed around – we were no longer scared, just awed.

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

- Mark Twain