Day Three – beyond the mist

We met the ship´s engineer, a burly congenial Frenchman named Cyril, at dinner last night. We also met the ship´s doctor, a thin, delicate woman named Sylvie. Dinner was an elegant affair with white linen tablecloths, tiny shrimp, seared scallops topped with golden breadcrumbs and fillet mignon.

We woke up this morning to white mist surrounding our ship. One of the naturalists on board, a wild Costa Rican man named Marcel Lichtenstein, says it is a rite of passage to cross the mist before reaching the White Continent.

This morning, we went to a lecture on icebergs. ¨Growlers¨, some of the smallest icebergs are as big as a Volkswagen car. ¨Bergy bits¨are as big as a house. A ¨small¨ iceberg is as big as a cathedral.  A ¨large¨ iceberg is as big as a mall!

First passenger to spot an iceberg wins a bottle of champagne.