This was my first experience sailing on a ship in the open sea, even the ocean. The rocking became the key element in my life for several very, very, very long days. I thought that this might be what hell is like.

Then, one afternoon, I started to feel better. And when it was my watch again to take the helm, nothing bothered me anymore, the sky was clear, the ocean wasn’t rocking so violently, the yacht was speeding along, a fresh breeze was blowing, and everything around finally seemed simply wonderful. Some clouds looked like solidified stones, small ice floes floated here and there, and ahead, the outlines of snow-capped mountains, spires, and icebergs were visible. There was a pleasant feeling of steering something large: you turn a little to the left – and the 20-meter yacht goes to the left. You turn to the right – and it goes to the right. And then you abstract yourself, and your thoughts clear: no need to go anywhere, no need to call anyone, nothing needs to be done. Everything that needs to be done – you are already doing. A queue of tasks doesn’t stretch into your head. This is what unites any journey: the joy of being here and now. And you stand at the helm.

Antarctica and its first shores greeted me with the sun, which glittered on the small waves and spread its rays over the shining ice caps of the islands. The first impression was unforgettable – a dream come true!