HDS12-25, trip log, Spitsbergen - Northeast Greenland - Aurora Borealis, Including Long Hikes

Our journey to Greenland began today in Akureyri as we all embarked on our vessel for the trip, Hondius. Despite the rainy and grey conditions as we were welcomed onboard by the crew and staff, there was huge excitement in the air for the journey ahead, and it wasn’t long before the weather changed, and the sun began to shine through the clouds as we left port.

After we had all settled into our cabins for the voyage, it was soon time to join all together in the lounge for our mandatory safety and emergency drill. Donning our bright orange life-jackets, we were guided through the procedures and locations that will keep us safe throughout our time at sea.

Following the mandatory safety briefing, we all returned to the lounge for a cocktail or two and a warm welcome onboard from the ship’s Captain, Ernesto. This was shortly followed by an introductory briefing from the Hotel Manager, Albert, and Expedition Leader, Chris, to orientate us to life on board and explain the plan for the forthcoming days.

While the welcome introductions were underway, we were also treated to a brief sighting of three feeding humpback whales off the port side. They were most likely feeding and every so often would show off their tail flukes while diving down.

With all the various welcomes completed, it was soon time to visit the dining room and treat ourselves to a delicious meal served by the galley team. There was one more round of briefings after dinner - AECO, Bear safety, and Zodiac safety briefing - before we could head off to our cabins for some well-earned rest.

Today the sea reminded us of its power. We woke up to fierce weather, with strong winds sweeping across the decks and waves climbing to nearly 4 meters. The ship rolled and pitched, groaning with each swell, and the expedition team confirmed it was the worst weather of the season so far. Many passengers decided to spend the morning resting in their cabins, rocked gently (or not so gently) by the ship. Others bundled up in layers and waterproofs to face the rain and spray outside. On the outer decks, those who ventured out were rewarded with fresh, salty air and the sight of northern fulmars and gannets soaring with incredible grace, gliding just above the crests of the waves, unfazed by the storm.

For the hikers among us, the morning brought our very first briefing with Marco, one of the expedition guides. He outlined what we could expect from the long hikes in Greenland: uneven terrain, variable weather, and the breathtaking rewards of reaching high viewpoints over fjords and glaciers. His words made us eager to set foot ashore.

Late in the morning, we gathered in the lounge where KJ gave a presentation titled “First Impressions of Greenland.” It was the perfect introduction, painting a picture of towering mountains, vast ice, colorful tundra and endless cultural history. Listening to him while the ship rolled outside helped us begin to imagine the landscapes waiting just beyond the horizon.

Lunch was served in the dining room, a welcome chance to sit together, share stories, and recover some energy. In the afternoon, those of us interested in kayaking met the kayak team for a detailed briefing. We learned about the equipment, safety procedures, and the magic of paddling quietly among icebergs, getting as close as possible to nature without disturbing it. Excitement filled the room—we could already picture ourselves gliding silently across mirrored waters.

Not long after, Joyce gave a fascinating lecture on the whales of the Arctic seas. She described the different species we might encounter, beluga, minke, humpback, fin, even the elusive blue whale, and shared tips on how to spot them from the ship. Her passion was contagious, and many of us left with our eyes fixed on the waves, hoping for a spout or a tail fluke, although we learned that it is not easy to encounter them.

As evening approached, the expedition team gathered us once again for our first daily recap. We reviewed the day, looked ahead to tomorrow’s plans, and then came the highlight—the Blue Nose Ceremony! This centuries-old sailor’s tradition celebrates crossing the Arctic Circle. Since we had crossed it last night at 22:30, we were invited to officially join the Blue Nose Society. Laughter and applause filled the room as expedition staff painted our noses blue, one by one. It was lighthearted, fun, and unforgettable—a memory we will all carry with us.

We ended the day with a light dinner, while the Expedition Leader warned us that “the worst weather is approaching.” Comforted by the safety of the ship and the coziness of our cabins, we retired for the night, the sea still restless outside. Tomorrow, however, promises calm seas. By morning, we will enter Scoresby Sund, the world’s largest fjord system, and at last, we will set our eyes on the rugged and magnificent coast of Greenland.

After a night rocked by the open sea, what a joy it was to awaken to the serene embrace of Scoresby Sund — its waters glassy, its grandeur unfolding beneath a tender morning light. In the early hours, we entered the world’s largest fjord, and the call of the ice drew us swiftly to the outer decks. There, the first great icebergs drifted past like ancient sentinels, ethereal and immense — a spectacle that left many of us hushed in awe.

The morning was abuzz with curiosity. Marco delivered a compelling lecture on the dynamics of glaciers, also shedding light on the vast Greenlandic ice sheet with the kind of insight that deepens knowledge. After we collected our gear for the afternoon’s excursions — collecting our trusty muck boots — a photography workshop was offered at the ship’s bow. Koen, Matt, and Juan, our onboard photographers, shared their expertise with warmth and precision, guiding us in how best to frame this otherworldly landscape. Now, with cameras in hand, we feel equipped to capture the Arctic in all its fleeting majesty.

Eager to stretch our sea-legs, we boarded the Zodiacs after lunch and made landfall on one of the Bear Islands — Bjørnøyer. The island chosen for the landing was Nanuaraq Avannarteq and it was the first time Oceanwide was setting foot on it. Spirits were high as we split into hiking groups: the adventurous set off towards the island’s lofty heights, while others chose a gentler pace, wandering through the lush tundra, alive with berries, Arctic blooms, and the fiery hues of dwarf birches and willows already donning their autumn cloaks.

The island unfolded like a dream — alpine peaks lightly dusted with snow reflected in still ponds, as monumental icebergs floated silently in the distance. With clear skies above and a kind, mild breeze, we paused often to soak in the Arctic silence. Fortune smiled on a few walkers, who encountered an utterly serene Arctic hare, seemingly posing for our cameras, and even caught sight of the elusive snow bunting flitting between the brush.

Meanwhile, a small group ventured out by kayak, gliding through the fjord’s stillness to meet great northern divers, harbor seals, and elegant eider ducks — wild moments that stitched themselves into memory.

Back aboard, our Expedition Leader Chris gathered us in the lounge to outline tomorrow’s plans — our first full day hike awaits. After dinner, Marco and Jerry held a briefing, offering insight into the terrain and the journey ahead.

Dinner itself was a quiet joy — a moment to savor not just the food but the stories, reflections, and shared wonder of our first landing. But the Arctic had more to give. As the sun sank low, a hush fell over the ship and once more, we drifted to the decks. The sky bloomed in shades of rose and gold, the mountains and icebergs ignited with the soft fire of dusk, then deepened into crimson. Cameras clicked; hearts swelled.

Now, the ship grows still, cloaked in quiet anticipation. The day has given so much — but it may not be over yet. Our expedition team remains on watch... should the Northern Lights decide to dance.

KAYAK TRIPLOG

The kayakers headed out between two of the larger northern islands to explore the rugged coastline. The tundra covered this wild environment and the exposed rock showed off the beautiful geology of this location.

As we headed north, we spotted seals, and birdlife which were dwarfed in this enormous landscape. Calls of the great northern diver could be heard as they passed overhead, and eider ducks took cover as we approached. The kayaks passed through this tranquil landscape silently enjoying the sounds of Greenland, the mountains of the mainland towering up in the background made this location spectacular.

We woke at 07:15, roused by the familiar morning call as soft Arctic light filtered through the cabin windows. Outside, the steep cliffs of Harefjord stood wrapped in mist, ancient and unmoved by time. There was a stillness in the air — not silence, exactly, but the kind of quiet that only exists in remote places untouched by roads or power lines.

Breakfast was served from 07:30 to 08:30 in the dining room on Deck 4. The scent of fresh coffee, baked bread, and warmth was comforting after the cold night. Those of us preparing for the long hike ate first, loading up on energy for what we knew would be an intense day.

By 08:30, the first group of hikers was off — loaded into Zodiacs and ferried ashore to begin a 6-7-hour trek through the rugged terrain of Harefjord. They crossed tundra patches, climbed ridgelines, and walked in the shadow of the Inland Ice. Along the way, they spotted signs of muskoxen, startled Arctic hares, and paused often — not from exhaustion, but from awe.

The rest of us boarded our Zodiacs for a cruise through Røde Fjord. The water was a mirror, broken only by drifting icebergs — massive, sculpted, and impossibly blue. We drifted quietly past towering red cliffs, their faces scarred by ice and time. The silence was broken only by the occasional thunderclap of calving ice in the distance. Cameras clicked. Eyes stayed wide.

Lunch, served from 12:00 to 13:00, brought us back to warmth — and stories. The dining room buzzed with shared photos, breathless retellings, and laughter echoing through the ship. In the afternoon, around 14:00, the medium hikers took to the land. Their 3–3.5-hour hike revealed views of distant glaciers and wide Arctic valleys carpeted with moss and stone. The terrain was kinder, but no less magnificent.

Not long after, the rest of our group disembarked for a perimeter landing — a chance to roam freely at our own pace. Some of us wandered toward a glacial stream. Others sat quietly, sketching or simply watching the wind push through the tundra. Every few moments, a sudden silence reminded us just how far we were from anywhere else.

And then came the call: Polar Plunge.

A few brave souls among us stripped down to swimsuits worn under our expedition layers and lined up by the shore. One by one, we ran, jumped, screamed — and plunged into the ice-cold water. It was madness, exhilarating, and over in seconds. We emerged to applause, wrapped in towels provided by the crew, shivering and grinning.

Back aboard, we gathered in the lounge for our daily recap with the Expedition Team. They shared stories from the long hike — wildlife tracks, ancient rocks, and views that looked like another planet. We shared ours too — a collective scrapbook of wind, ice, and stillness.

As the evening set in, we made our way to the aft deck on Deck 5 for a special treat: an Arctic BBQ dinner under the open sky. Wrapped in hats, gloves, and thick coats, we dined on grilled fish, roasted vegetables, and hot drinks as the fjord grew darker around us. The cold bit at our cheeks, but the food, the fire, and the camaraderie kept us warm.

Later that night, some among us spotted faint bands of green light weaving through the sky — aurora borealis, ghostly and elusive. A quiet moment. A perfect end.

KAYAK TRIPLOG

The morning started out calm, but the wind soon picked up and the conditions became a little bumpy making the kayaking good fun. The coastline was dramatic with the crisp red and gold of the tundra punctuating the landscape. The beauty of the land paled in comparison to the icebergs which rose up from the sea like giant statues. Each piece of ice a piece of art left strewn throughout the environment.

The blue and white of the icebergs made even brighter by the dark overcast clouds and the tumultuous water surrounding them their beauty on show for everyone. The kayakers managed to navigate this iceberg garden and enjoy nature’s sculptures from each ever-changing angle.

A fun and exciting morning filled with interesting conditions and beautiful landscapes.

We woke early to a dramatic Arctic landscape—grey skies hanging low over jagged cliffs, with patches of sunlight glinting off the still waters of the fjord. After a warm breakfast aboard the ship, we geared up and boarded the Zodiacs for our morning landing at Sydkap, a rugged and hauntingly beautiful peninsula known for its sweeping tundra and ice-carved valleys.

The hike was bracing. The terrain alternated between soft moss and rocky ridges, with views stretching out over Scoresby Sund, the largest fjord system in the world. We walked in near silence at times, the only sounds being the crunch of our boots, the wind threading through low Arctic willows, and the occasional call of a distant seabird. Our guide pointed out ancient Inuit hunting shelters made from stones, worn smooth by centuries of weather.

In the meantime, KJ and Marco led three fearless hikers across the tundra from Sykap’s abandoned refuge to Nordøstbugta located on the east. Despite the heavy rain they crossed a rugged terrain, had a fabulous encounter with Arctic Hares and a curious family of Muskoxen. Climbed the ancient moraine deposited during the Yunger Dryas to finally reach the peatland towards the landing site. Despite the chilly air, the hike felt invigorating - a rare chance to be completely immersed in a place that feels untouched by time.

By midday, dark clouds gathered fast. The wind picked up sharply, and rain swept over the fjord in sheets. The decision was made to cancel our afternoon landing for safety reasons, this is the Arctic, after all, and the weather writes its own script.

Instead, we enjoyed a scenic cruise through the fjord, staying warm and dry on deck as the ship cut through icy waters flanked by towering cliffs and drifting icebergs. The rain gave the landscape a dramatic, almost cinematic quality. It felt like sailing through the pages of a Norse saga.

Later, we gathered in the lounge for a fascinating presentation on Inuit culture. Our expedition team shared stories, photographs, and artifacts that brought depth to the land we were exploring. We learned about traditional Inuit life, seasonal hunting practices, and how people have adapted to such a harsh environment for thousands of years. It was humbling and deeply enriching.

Today was a reminder of the duality of the Arctic—wild and unpredictable, but also generous in what it offers. Though we didn’t set foot on land in the afternoon, the landscape still reached us, both visually and emotionally. Days like this are why we travel to the ends of the Earth—not just for what we do, but for what we come to understand.

KAYAK TRIPLOG

The morning started with beautiful light and calm conditions. The clouds soon became heavy, and rain started to fall, making the area atmospheric. We set out along the coast admiring the geology as we made our way eastward. The banded folded rocks made for an excellent backdrop as we headed through the rain. The rocks glistened in the rain and the basalt intrusion with its black hue stood out with its stark contrast.

Large icebergs punctuated the bay and stood tall and proud. Geese and ducks frequented the shallows. Barnacle geese flew overhead their distinctive call could be heard as they flew. Eider ducks as shy as every kept their distance from us. Great northern divers hid from us under the waves as we moved on past the hunting cabins at Sydkap.

We saw an arctic fox on the shoreline but sadly it was caught within the fishing net left to dry on the shore. Another victim of careless human behavior.

We headed towards the icebergs to enjoy the beauty of this landscape once again before hailing our Zodiac back to our ship.

Our day began anchored in the dramatic and remote surroundings of Hurry Inlet, a quiet arm of Scoresby Sound, where low clouds hung close to the rugged slopes and mist drifted across the calm water. Though the sky remained overcast and occasional rain passed through, the morning brought an undeniable improvement in conditions compared to the previous days. Visibility had opened, and the subdued light gave the landscape a haunting beauty that only the Arctic can offer.

Eager to take advantage of the better weather, we disembarked in Zodiacs and went ashore for a morning hike across the tundra. The terrain was soft and damp underfoot, the mossy ground interspersed with late-season wildflowers clinging to the last warmth of summer. As we made our way through this raw and peaceful landscape, the highlight of the morning took us all by surprise: a rare snowy owl was spotted perched on a low ridge. Pure white with striking yellow eyes, the owl watched us calmly from a distance, giving everyone ample time to take photographs and simply observe in awe. For many onboard, it was a true expedition highlight—one of those unexpected and magical wildlife encounters that make Arctic travel so special.

Back onboard Hondius, lunch was served as we began our short transit southward, heading toward one of the most remote settlements in Greenland: Ittoqqortoormiit. Situated near the entrance to Scoresby Sound, this small Inuit community—home to just a few hundred residents—offered a fascinating glimpse into modern life in one of the harshest inhabited environments on Earth.

Upon landing at the small harbor in the afternoon, we were welcomed by a landscape of colorful wooden houses scattered across the rocky hillside, their vivid hues a stark contrast to the grey sky and surrounding wilderness. We split into small groups for a relaxed walk around town, where we had the opportunity to visit the local museum, showcasing traditional hunting tools, clothing, and photographs that speak to the deep cultural heritage of the region. At the community center, we learned more about contemporary life in Ittoqqortoormiit, including how families here continue to blend traditional practices with modern conveniences.

A particularly heartwarming moment came when we encountered several litters of Greenland dog puppies, tumbling over each other in play, thick fur and oversized paws hinting at their future roles as powerful sled dogs. These working dogs remain an essential part of life in East Greenland and seeing them up close—especially the younger ones—was a treat for dog lovers and photographers alike.

As we returned to the ship in the early evening, the clouds began to lift slightly, revealing glimpses of blue sky above the jagged peaks in the distance. The day left us with a rich tapestry of impressions: the stillness of the tundra, the wild elegance of the snowy owl, the enduring spirit of the people of Ittoqqortoormiit, and the unmistakable feeling of being somewhere truly remote and extraordinary.

KAYAK TRIPLOG

As the mist lifted towards the higher peaks of the fjord the calm waters were inviting. As we headed out, the low cloud clung to the mountain side adding an atmospheric air to this wonderful place. The landscape had changed from the rugged geology to a more rounded environment of this sedimentary area. The bands of each geological era on display for those wishing to look.

The kayakers headed north into the 40km long inlet, the water changing colors as we passed tributaries and rivers. The gray blue of the ocean behind us, turquoise waters in front with reddish brown waters of the tributaries. Where the waters mixed the sediments fell and after the clear water showed us the sandy bottom of this fjord.

It was a pleasantly relaxing paddle with no wind and very little swell. Surrounded by the high sides of the fjord with its sparce tundra and moss banks. The occasional eider was seen at a distance, and ravens flew overhead. We also were visited by barnacle geese and kelp gulls, a welcome injection of life in this beautiful barren landscape.

We woke to a mystical fog as Hondius entered Vikingebugt, the largest of several inlets in the outer part of the Scoresby Sund fjord. The inlet stretches about fourteen kilometers long and six kilometers wide, a grand gateway that held both mystery and promise. At its head a medium-sized glacier called Bredegletscher drains the fringe of the Geike ice field into the waters below. Yet Helgenaes, the northeastern corner of Vikingebugt is most renowned for its extraordinary hexagonal basalt columns, a sight that seemed almost otherworldly in the grey morning light. As we boarded the Zodiacs, the rain began to fall more steadily, though it did little to dampen our resolve. We stepped ashore and set out to explore the towering basalt formations, their striking patterns rising out of the rugged landscape. The rocks were slick and challenging to cross, but the reward was the chance to witness geology at its most remarkable.

This unique geological formation was created by huge basaltic subaerial plateau floods during the opening of the North Atlantic in the Paleogene (60-50 Ma).

After our excursion we returned to the vessel where a hearty lunch of pork belly and quesadillas awaited, warming and satisfying our bellies and giving us the much-needed fuel for the rest of the day.

The afternoon brought preparations for a Zodiac cruise in the cold and persistent rain. Those who ventured out were treated to an unforgettable surprise when a female polar bear with two cubs appeared along the shoreline. Such an encounter is rare in Greenland, and we were filled with awe at this incredible sight. The weather was harsh and the rain relentless but, in the moment, we almost forgot the cold. Navigating through the ice was most certainly worth the effort and the memory will remain vivid for years to come. Female polar bears have a unique reproductive cycle adapted to the harsh Arctic environment. Mating typically occurs between April and May, but fertilized eggs undergo delayed implantation, meaning they do not immediately attach to the uterine wall. This allows the female to gain enough body fat during the summer months to support pregnancy. If she reaches sufficient weight, the embryo implants in the fall, and gestation continues for about two months. Pregnant females then dig dens in snowdrifts, usually between October and November, where they give birth to one to three cubs between November and January. The mother and cubs remain in the den until March or April, relying solely on her fat reserves for nourishment during this time.

In the evening, we gathered once again on board, enjoying a delicious dinner that lifted our spirits after the day’s exertions. The night closed with Eric’s enthralling story of his journey from working as an interior designer to pursuing life as a mountaineer, ultimately summitting the mighty Grand Jorases in Italy.

KAYAK TRIPLOG

The morning held host to low clouds and a slight drizzle in the air, the mountains had a dusting of snow on the peaks showing the geological strata lines in all their beauty. Icebergs littered the bay, and the basalt columns could be picked out of the landscape from the ship.

As the kayaks approached the shoreline, ice all around, the gentle waves lapped at the rocky beaches. We navigated our way through the ice, its speed around 2 knots at it floated on the tide out of the bay. This every changing landscape was spectacular to be amongst.

We headed to the mouth of the bay passing towering blue chunks of ice, towards the open water of Scoresby Sund. Skirting around the coastline the rocks upwelled into dramatic cliffs of basalt. Behind the mountains towered even higher. Waterfalls cascaded down this spectacular rock face and added to the wild and remote feeling of this location. The cliffs we were looking for loomed ahead in the mist, and as we approached, we could see the wonderful, curved lines of the basalt columns, contorted and twisted over millennia, subject to pressure and geological timelines. These columns towered above us, a wonderful bit of geology in this vast and beautiful Landscape.

This morning was calm and clear. The rain stopped, the clouds lifted, and we could see Charcot Havn where meltwater from the Charcot Glacier flows down to the sea. The tundra was glowing with autumn colors – red and orange everywhere – and the tall peaks around us were covered fresh with snow.

Charcot Havn is a small fjord or natural harbor located within the larger Scoresby Sund fjord system on the east coast of Greenland. It is named after the French polar explorer Jean-Baptiste Charcot. It lies in an area characterized by dramatic mountains, glacially carved terrain, and deep waters that are seasonally navigable by ships during the brief Arctic summer. The surrounding region is part of the Northeast Greenland National Park, the largest national park in the world, and is virtually uninhabited except for occasional scientific and exploratory expeditions. Charcot Havn, like much of Scoresby Sund, offers a glimpse into the raw beauty and isolation of the Arctic wilderness.

We split into three groups. The long hikers packed their lunches and set off on a five-hour trek toward the glacier. The medium hikers climbed to nearby peaks for amazing views of the glacial valley and the bay where Hondius was at anchor waiting to bring us back to Iceland in the next day. For those who chose the shorter hike, the day was no less magical. The short hikers stayed closer but still enjoyed stunning views of the bay, where our ship floated among huge icebergs.

After a prolonged morning landing in the wilderness of East Greenland, we returned to the ship for lunch. In the afternoon, we cruised slowly through the stunning fjords of Scoreby Sund, heading toward the open ocean.

On the bow, we said our final goodbye to Greenland with hot chocolate in hand, watching the snowy peaks fade into the distance.

As usual, we ended the day with an evening recap. This time it was special with the Captain’s Cocktail at the end, as we prepared to sail into the rough seas of the Denmark Strait.

We awoke to a ship in motion — Hondius was making her way south across the Denmark Strait, but the sea had grown restless overnight. With swells reaching 5 to 6 meters, the vessel rose and dipped with the long, rolling waves, creaking softly as we made steady progress toward Iceland. Outside, the wind howled, and thick fog blurred the horizon, leaving the ocean feeling vast, cold, and wild.

Not everyone made it to breakfast — the motion proved a bit much for a few. But those who did gathered in the lounge, sipping hot drinks and steadying themselves with the ship’s rhythm.

Our first lecture of the day was from Joyce, who introduced us to one of the Arctic’s most mysterious and ancient inhabitants: the Greenlandic shark. As the ship rocked and swayed, Joyce spoke about these deep-dwelling creatures that can live for hundreds of years beneath the ice. Her presentation — rich with research, surprising facts, and haunting deep-sea footage — made for a perfect match to the moody weather outside. It was easy to imagine these elusive giants swimming silently in the cold depths below.

Following a brief break and a few cautious strolls down the hallways, we gathered again for Chris’s presentation on Oceanwide’s history of polar exploration. With three decades of experience, he shared stories of epic voyages across the Arctic and Antarctic — from the remote Ross Sea to the emperor penguins of Snow Hill. His enthusiasm and first-hand tales reminded us of the rare journey we’d just completed, and the many paths still waiting for future explorers.

Lunch in the dining room was an experience. The swells had not let up, and as the Hondius pitched and rolled, plates were held a little tighter, and conversations leaned toward laughter and sea stories. Despite the motion, the mood was light and communal — the shared challenge only added to the sense of camaraderie.

The afternoon brought a touch of calm — not from the sea, but from routine and familiarity. Koen took the stage with his heartfelt lecture about working as a whale-watching guide. From the cold waters of Iceland to the tropical Pacific off Tonga, his stories of close encounters with humpbacks and orcas were captivating. Stunning footage of these gentle giants brushing past his boats, breaching against snow-covered backdrops, or gliding gracefully beneath clear waters made for a fitting contrast to the rough sea outside our windows.

As evening drew near the swell started to slowly subsided whilst we approached the northern coast of Iceland. Instructions for the next day’s disembarkation were laid down during the recap, followed by one last dinner and the tribute to the entire crew who made this memorable voyage possible with all their dedication, professionalism and smiles.

The wake-up call came at 7:15 AM, though many of us were already awake—quietly packing our bags and taking in the final views from our cabin windows. The ship had docked in Akureyri, marking the end of our Arctic journey with a mix of gratitude and melancholy.

After setting our luggage out in the hallway for transfer, we made our way to the dining room for one last breakfast together. The atmosphere was calm and reflective. We shared stories, exchanged quiet laughter, and lingered over our coffee, reluctant to let the moment slip away.

After a smooth passport check with Icelandic customs, we disembarked Hondius for the final time. On the pier, those heading to Reykjavik by coach collected their luggage and said goodbyes. There were hugs, quiet promises to stay in touch, and one last look back at the ship that had carried us through ice, sea, and silence.

On behalf of Oceanwide Expeditions, Captain Ernesto Barria Vargas, Expedition Leader Chris Long, Hotel Manager Albert Don, and all the crew and staff of m/v Hondius, it has been a pleasure traveling with you!