Chionophobia: Fear of snow

One of the activities available to me in Antarctica is ice caving.

Yippee.

Considering how much I like the cold and snow, AND how claustrophobic I am, the combination of the two - ice, in a confined area - sounds absolutely sinister.

Why don’t we just pack the caves with spiders and snakes too, and let me go entirely off the deep end???

My greatest fear that I have to face every day, however, is the ‘fear of wide gaps’. Over potholes, or rivulets of water, or from the boat to the dock (and vice versa).

We had to move the boat this morning because of more “mas viente” … now we are tied alongside the travel-lift, which we hope is a secure place for the boat in the coming southwesterly storm – but puts the deck a good three-to-four feet away and four-to-five feet below the concrete wall I am apparently supposed to scale. I had wanted to go to town, to write this email, buy my girls some souvenirs, check my FB, hear what y’all have to say … but with the taxi waiting, I stood on the toe rail, the boat heaving up and down in the surge, and I froze (oh and it’s darned cold too so I was LITERALLY freezing as well).

So here I am: PINING for that tall wobbly timber ladder of Piriapolis, that rope ladder flung over the wall at Yate Club Argentino, or even the lonely tattered tire on the opposite end of the wharf here. Alone, on the boat, typing with gloves on, drinking tea.

I hate it when my fears control me, and yet the fear – of plunging six feet into 40 degree water, Oreo-cookied between a 40 ton steel vessel and a rebar-infused monolith of cement – is to some extent common sense. I’m not a candy ass: I’m ‘survival oriented’.

So … speaking of “candy” and “fear” – today is Halloween! Here’s hoping you all have more Treats than Tricks in your goodie bags this year. XXOO – Betsy

Oct 31 2009 from Barranco Amarillo, Chile

@ Betsy Crowfoot

PS – A dozen French mountain climbers came to visit us Sat’y night, having just completed a six-week hiking/climbing/cross-country skiing expedition near Ushuaia. They arrived at the dock, looked down, and just stood there … Mountain climbers! I’m not the only candy-ass around. I dragged out the swim ladder and hung it from the wall to help some board. Later that night, more dock lines broke, we busted a fender off (having deflated three previously), then the dock took a huge chunk out of the toerail and gel coat around 5AM (so we took off and drove in circles for a while). Being ‘survival oriented’ just might pay off…