Photo by @iahtehphotography / We journeyed “to that treacherous point where the Pacific and Atlantic oceans meet. We were looking for something no one had ever seen, and we were prepared to climb up or rappel down a knobby face above the deadliest seas on Earth to find it. (Well, some of us were prepared. Ahem.) We chugged 32 hours by ferry; motored 10 hours more on a wooden charter boat captained by a sailor who confessed mid-journey that he'd never navigated this wicked stretch. Then we hit Cape Horn, the last spit of ground in Tierra del Fuego," writes Craig Welch, describing our experience vividly. We were following a scientific expedition led by Brian Buma last year. Upon arrival to Cape Horn, we were met near it shores by Chilean Navy Officer Andrés Morales and his family— the only living souls on this island, barring the occasional passing cruise ship. Or, at this particular time, adventurous scientists about to explore the island away from the shelter of this outpost. In the coming days, Morales would keep us abreast of weather conditions by radio on an island notorious for its gales and unpredictable weather. Not knowing when I might see them again, I asked to take a family portrait outside during a lull in the gusts buffeting their little home. Within minutes, the winds picked up again, ruffling their gracious poses to produce this— an image of a windswept family trying desperately to look presentable for my camera. I had hoped to capture a sense of the place they were in—a windy, isolated island at the bottom of the world. Cape Horn delivered. Later we hiked through gales and sheet rain, slipping on penguin guano before plummeting to our necks in prickly shrubs. All this in search for the world’s southernmost tree. #capehorn #chile #southernmosttree #climatechange
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