The Drake Passage (Antarctica Marathon Part V)

Dear Shackleton,

Before my trip to Antarctica, I watched a documentary on your crises. A crew set out to recreate your “adventure” by wearing the same clothing, eating the same foods, and attempting a similar route through the Drake Passage. It was evident that you’d greatly benefit from modern-day equipment — and Dramamine.

Our ship, the Ioffe, took us through the Drake Passage, a 48-hour trip. Many passengers sported a small circular patch under their ear to help with the impending sea sickness. I stuck with Dramamine, which I took 12 hours before reaching the Drake Passage.

I woke up throughout the night because I was involuntarily being rolled from head to toe, head to toe. My stomach lurched as the front of the ship swayed upwards. And my stomach rolled back down as the ship plummeted into the water. Again and again. Head to toe.

In the morning, we held onto railings and stumbled around as we moved throughout the ship. Showering was dangerous — one hand needed to stay on the railing and the other washed your hair.

The dining room at breakfast was sparse. Many people succumbed to sea sickness and couldn’t get out of bed for 24–48 hours. The staff went from room to room to check on passengers, and decorated the railings in the hallway with barf bags. Luckily, the drugs I took worked, but I was surprised at how intensely I felt the waves. Subconsciously, I thought Dramamine would make me feel normal — make me immune from the swaying. This type of drug does not make you feel invincible.

We had a mandatory meeting that first day to review IAATO’s guidelines for visitors to the Antarctic, a keynote emphasizing that we need to respect the landscape and wildlife. (More specifically, you can’t graffiti “Shackleton was here” was a glacier. Sorry, man.) During the meeting, some people kept a barf bag clutched in their hand. Others stored two in their back pockets. Many of these bags were used throughout the meeting.

On day two, we saw some new faces, as people found their sea legs and emerged from their bed. Most of us spent that second day rehydrating — whether dehydrated from our medicine or throwing up, and the marathon only 1.5 days away.

Now out of the Drake Passage, the waves gently rock me to sleep.

My hat is off to you, Shackleton.

Cheers,

Lindsay

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII