A band of hardy adventurers exploring a glacier. This morning we awoke to a light rain and warmer temperatures, a warm front was pushing through. Just before lunch, deep within the Agostini Fjord in extreme southern Chile, a challenge came over the ship's PA system, "For those hardy souls who need yet one more adventure, we will be lowering the Zodiacs for exploration!" In a branching fjord we could see a glacier from the bridge that appeared to come all the way down to the water, however an old terminal moraine prevented the Caledonian Star from entering the fjord. The boats were lowered and those hardy souls in their wet gear assembled at the loading platform. There was excitement spiced with a bit of trepidation. "Is this silly?" "What would we see?" The answer was all around, "Nothing, if you don't look!" We crossed the shallow bar and everywhere we looked there was magic: waterfalls, exotic birds, trees in protected canyons, golden-brown mosses on exposed rock, and the rock, contorted, almost tortured schist, wet and lustrous. About a mile up the fjord, there was indeed a tidewater glacier. It cascaded from a high ledge, cracked and squeezed, not the mother of large icebergs, but numerous Zodiac-sized offspring. Several hundred yards from the face of the glacier a landing site was found with sure footing for those who wanted to observe the frequent calvings or perhaps meditate quietly with a view that most people will never experience. The glacier was huge and we were dwarfed by its age and stature. Our tiny figures are circled in the picture, although our enthusiasm was titanic as seen in the insert.