Puerto Madryn - Ship Happens - published Ponsonby News June 2019

Surrounded by a desolate landscape, the monotony of the coastline of Argentine Patagonia, is breached only occasionally by the stark white buildings of the country's numerous weather and maritime research stations. Providing a lonely and solitary life on this landscape, the sight of our passing ship brought out more than a few inhabitants of these stations to wave to us as we sailed past. 

The long and colourless cliffs were a complete dichotomy after leaving cosmopolitan and lively Buenos Aries a few days ago. Where only recently we had been  entertained by Tango dancing and ”Bon Vivant”, here  the only other sign of regular life were the accompanying pods of black and white dolphins providing comic relief as they frolicked in our wake.

Eventually we turned into the harbour entrance for Puerto Madryn, one of the continent’s best places to view wildlife; orca, penguins, whales and elephant seals.

Arms loaded up with camera equipment and great expectations, we were itching to get off and start some exploring. 

We, the usual suspects, were booked for El Arenal Beach where hundreds of elephant seals give birth and rear their young before commencing their journey to the Falkland Islands. The beach is infamous for gratuitous Utube videos of Orca sliding up the beach to snatch baby seals from their nests.

Hey - I’m from New Zealand where the most vicious our wildlife gets, is a seagull stealing your chips - this was our chance of a David Attenborough moment.

Unfortunately as we approached the dock, it was announced that we may not in fact, be allowed to berth after all due to a sudden “industrial dispute”.

Furious negotiations were taking place even as we hovered off the wharf, the ships deck crew ready to throw over our lines and the Stevedores on the wharf looking fierce and staunch, refusing to lift a finger to help us dock.

Finally accommodations must have been reached as it was announced that we would dock for a short time to let off various officials and take on the Cape Horn Pilot who we needed in a few days’ time. Passengers would be allowed to get off the ship but it would be departing in 2 hours and wouldn’t be waiting for any tardy cruisers.

There was a mad rush for the only gangplank. 

Conveniently and not without some nefarious effort on my part, I found myself at the front of the line and fortuitously beside the hull door accompanied by my table-mates, Bryce and Elizabeth - also keen on seeing the seals. We stood there for an hour as further negotiation took place and then, like the parting of the Red Sea the doors opened - the town and seals beckoned and the waiting crowd surged forward.

Chaos ensued, threats were made, lines were abandoned and a huge mass of humanity surrounded the poor and overwhelmed officers manning the exit. Confusion and tensions reigned. Doors slammed, alarms rang and sirens sounded.

Grabbing Elizabeth’s arm I managed to sidle between an arguing German and a deck Officer then we slipped passed the clogged exit just as they put up barriers to try to control the mob and as we passed through the exit scanner, the machine, overloaded and in a fit of petulance, failed. We were the last passengers to depart before the hull doors were again slammed shut and further permission to leave denied. 

Grateful for our chance of escape, we jumped onto the nearest shuttle and were dropped unceremoniously in town opposite a windswept beach, a string of shops and a big stuffed penguin with a hole in the face crying out for attention. There was little time left to enjoy the delights of the area, let alone any planned excursions to the Cape and its wildlife.  So we turned and rejoined the back of the line for the bus back to the ship, lamenting our lack of wildlife sightings.

Back onboard, we were leaning over the railing waiting for departure as a local family of sea lions took up position under the wooden pier to watch us depart. As our lines were withdrawn and we drifted off, our last view of the locals were the numerous young pups playing in and around the piers and their proud parents nervously watching, one eye on us and one on the predatory orca spotted off our stern. 

Sadly this was as close as we would get to the Cape’s famous wildlife but at least I didn’t have to explain away photographs of bloodthirsty orca feasting among the seal pups to my mother.