WorldTravelReynolds

Y’all, today felt like a well rested day after winning the lottery—our zodiac wasn’t scheduled until 9:30 a.m.! We pulled into Half Moon Island at 7:30, but getting to sleep past 6 a.m. felt downright luxurious. Heaven, I tell you.

Half Moon Island gave us our grand finale landing, and it didn’t go easy on us. We had a treacherous climb over rocks, ice, and snow—think stair-stepping in ski boots on a slippery hillside. At one point Chuck took a good look at the path, turned to me, and said, “I love you, but I’m not risking this old hip for fluffy chicks.” Smart man—he headed back to the zodiac to wait for me.

Me? I was on a mission. I wanted to see the baby penguin chicks something fierce, so I pushed on, one careful step at a time. When I finally crested the rocky ridge, oh my—the view opened up like a postcard from heaven. Sparkling blue water, snow-covered hills, and total peace. I had to stop every few minutes to let penguins cross their “highway” (they’ve got right of way). The only downside? Penguins poop constantly, so the “white” snow looked more like a well-used parking lot. Glamorous it is not!

But then—jackpot! I made it to the chinstrap penguin nursery. The babies were the cutest things this side of a watching kitten videos all day. Fluffy, wobbly, and demanding lunch like tiny feathered dictators. I watched one mom feed her two chicks, then hand them off to dad like she was clocking out for her break. Dad took over protection duty, puffing up and keeping watch while the little ones snuggled under his brood pouch. It was the sweetest family handoff I ever did see—better than any reality show.

The whole colony was pure entertainment: penguins flirting, fussing, stealing pebbles, and showing off personalities bigger than life. I could’ve stayed all day.

Back on the ship, we barely had time to thaw before an impromptu briefing in the lounge. Depending on who you asked, the news was either exciting or downright scary.

Our original plan was to finish tomorrow (Dec 21), disembark on King George Island, spend one night in a hotel there, then fly back to Puerto Williams the next morning. Well… Mother Nature had other ideas. Weather grounded all charter flights into King George—not just today, but forecast for the next three days, with a backlog of other stranded cruises waiting their turn.

So the captain and the bigwigs huddled and made the call: instead of sitting around freezing on the island, we’re sailing straight across the Drake Passage back to South America. The entire room erupted in cheers! The expedition team looked shocked—apparently most folks dread extra Drake time and pray for calm seas. Not this bunch. We’re rebels.

Downside: our last planned stop at Charlotte Bay got canceled so we could leave immediately. A little sad, but totally understandable—safety first.

Upside: instead of packing tonight, we get a bonus relaxing sea day tomorrow (fingers crossed for “Drake Lake” instead of “Drake Shake”). I already booked myself another spa day—massage, here I come!

One more day on this beautiful ship, rocking gently (hopefully), eating like royalty, and saying goodbye to the white continent. Bittersweet, but what a way to end it.

Antarctica, you’ve been a dream. Thank you for every chilly, magical minute.

May God bless you all! Chuck & Lea Ann