Cape horn stands like a pale ghost on the horizon peering at us through the gloom of a fog bank. In weather like this, with slick water and no wind, it’s easy to underestimate these waters that seem so benign. Even now however, the black rocks cloaked in their sinister white mist speak of crashing waves and a hungry sea. Shortly we are about to turn into the Beagle Passage an make for Ushuaia were I’ll have a brief interlude with civilization before turning back to the south … well … maybe the term civilized is pushing it a bit, but it is nice to have a few hours of freedom off the ship!