10/13/2026
After a one-day delay, we finally landed in the Falklands. On our first attempt, the pilot had already begun the descent when we were denied landing just minutes out because of strong crosswinds over the runway.
LATAM arranged transfers and hotels for all of us. Organizing it on such short notice was quite chaotic.
A day later we flew again, and this time the landing was smooth. Everyone was in good spirits, talking about the excitement ahead.
It was a beautiful sunny afternoon when we touched down at the Royal Air Force base, and it felt like something out of a movie. As soon as we landed, a unit of two dozen soldiers in full camouflage, carrying submachine guns, surrounded the landing perimeter. They held their positions until every civilian had left the airfield. Inside, the terminal had just one luggage conveyor. While we waited to clear immigration, an officer with a small dog moved among us, sniffing our gear to make sure no one was bringing food products onto the island. Ahead of us, on a raised platform, six immigration officers greeted us with British courtesy and checked our paperwork quickly and efficiently.
Each of us collected our many bags and pushed our carts out of the terminal into the fresh air, where the transport team was waiting with two vehicles: one for people and one just for gear.
We drove for 45 minutes through the beautiful rolling hills of the countryside to the town of Stanley.
It was Sunday and the roads were quiet. Stanley is unmistakably an English village. There are a few red phone booths, a post office, a bank, a church and a museum. Every building is a single storey with a red, green or blue roof.
At the town jetty sat our sailing vessel, Vinson of Antarctica, alongside her sister ship, Amundsen of Antarctica.
The crew and everyone else pitched in to load our 40 pieces of luggage on board.
By late afternoon the sun was going down, and I could feel the cool air of the sub-Antarctic.
The crew showed us to our cabins. We soon started unpacking our luggage and camera gear, stowing it in the small cabin closets and on our bunks for easy access.
At dinner, we all gathered in the salon, tired and relaxed. We had made it, and we were on board.
David, the skipper, introduced us to his crew: Bee, Wes and Dion. I had worked with David before on a trip to Antarctica.
David and Dion explained the requirements for visiting South Georgia. We have to clean our clothes, boots and gear of every trace of debris we brought from home, to protect the island's wildlife and fragile environment.
We went to sleep with the ship still tied up in the Falklands.
On Monday morning a Falklands immigration officer came aboard. Another officer followed with a dog to check the vessel for rats, so we don't carry these invaders to South Georgia.
At about 10:30 a.m. we cast off our lines and left land behind, starting a 730-nautical-mile voyage of three to four days to South Georgia.
Once we were out of the bay, there was a light 13-knot northeasterly wind. David and the crew raised three sails, and we're now heading 095° at about 8.5 knots under both wind and engine.
We're rolling gently, and the adventure is underway.
Talk soon, and stay curious.
