Tenacity: the reserve to not stop trying, continuing in the face of adversity, fortitude.

Flexibility: adapting to changing or new situations, not dogmatic, adaptable.

Stupidity: lacking in knowledge or common sense. Not sensible. Beyond reason.

A few definition to get this first post going. No prizes for guessing what comes next. Keep these words in mind!

It was last Monday, April 16^th and I was hard at it with the final arrangements and packing for the Atlantic trip which started with a flight that coming Thursday night. I had to pack for the trip, pack for the time in South Africa with Bernadette following the sail, and also pack for a conference we were going to in South Carolina, leaving the following day – and returning on Thursday just in time to change bags and catch my flight down to Santiago, Chile, with onward connection to Punta Arenas down in Patagonia. I was going to spend Friday afternoon and night there looking around and then catch the flight to the Falkland Islands on the Saturday morning. There is only one flight a week from South America to the Falklands, and it’s one of only three weekly flights in total that go to the Falklands. The other two are RAF sponsored flights out of Brize Norton Air Force Station in Oxfordshire, England. Missing my flight wasn’t an option – not unless I wanted to miss the first week of preparation and bonding with the rest of the crew.

So it was Monday and we’d just finished lunch (the “we” is Bernadette and James and I – James and Alice both came home over the last weekend to say good bye and good luck to me – a sundry expense to the cost of the sail – but well worth it!). My cell phone rang and low and behold – American Airlines. I don’t know about you, but when an airline calls just before a trip – it’s seldom good news. It wasn’t.

“Mr Shepherd – this is Lucy from American Airlines. How is your day going?”

“Well Lucy, it depends on what great news you have for me.”

“Well Mr Shepherd, I wanted to let you know that there has been a change to your scheduled trip later this week to – to – to Poonta Areenass.”

“A good change or a not so good change?”

“Not sure.” So we now knew this was going to be a not so go change, “We’ve heard from LATAM airlines that your connection to Poonta Areenass has changed time and now leaves at 07.53 on Friday morning.”

“Lucy, my American Airlines flight to Santiago lands at 07.47 – correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Am I missing something here?”

It was perfectly clear that this call was to inform, not help. I asked if American were going to do something about this 6 minute change – which would involve going through immigration, collecting a bag, changing terminals, going through security and getting to the gate….

6 minutes seemed a tad tight – may be a glass half empty view! They weren’t able to help me, but she had further news – to help explain. Now we were informing and explaining, but definitely not helping!

“There’s a strike down there and it seems things are fluid.” Fluid! Hmmmm, I have visited South America many times and plans there are always “fluid.” It goes with the culture. These plans weren’t fluid, they were “liquid” – at best!

After 3 hours on the phone with various offices across Latin and South America, I established that LATAM Airline’s customer service was an oxymoron, and after consulting with American “We’re here to inform you” Airlines, I established the only way around this was to leave Dallas a full day earlier. I discussed this with Bernadette and she agreed, this was the only option. Flexibility.

I had to call the conference organizer and explain we weren’t going to make it the next day. I was sad – we enjoyed this annual gathering and it was in one of our favorite places to visit – Palmeto Bluff (a place of staggering beauty). Nothing could be done, there was no flexibility around the flight out of “Poonta Areenass” on the Saturday morning. The upside of the change was that I would get more time with Jamesie who was hanging around until the Wednesday late afternoon, and we could all have dinner together later that evening. Some sense of order was restored to my life and while I was in a slight funk about the changes, I just accepted them and got on with the jobs at hand. I booked a hotel room at the Airport in Santiago for my premature arrival – somewhere I would now have to while a way almost a complete day – before my early start on the Friday morning – catching my earlier flight from Santiago to Punta Arenas.

Tuesday dawned and I was looking forward to a nice, and hither too unplanned, bike ride and the indulgence of more time to organize and pack. All seemed reasonably good with the world and, following a few hours in the office, I headed to prepare and change to go riding. Like many people, I may have a bad habit of taking my phone to the bathroom with me on some occasions (don’t judge – you’ve done it!) Sifting through emails was a productive activity to what is really down time. There was a harmless looking notification from American Airlines about my new schedule. I glanced at it – knowing the schedule inside out. BLAST OFF!

My new schedule absolutely showed the flight to Chile for the following evening, a full 24 hours before the original, but now my onward connection was showing not for 24 hours after I arrived in Santiago, but for the same day my new flight arrived. I had confirmed with American the previous evening that my original connection was still good – and it was. It got better – NOT. This new connection left 6 minutes before my flight from Dallas was due to land! I must admit, I handled this news with a private manic episode, not something one should do while vulnerable in the bathroom. After a further 6 hours on the phone with American and LATAM, it was clear – no-one was going to help. LATAM  blamed American for the stupid connection – the original flight that had been brought forward in time, had been canceled and this new flight was the only one available before Sunday – as in Sunday, the day after the day the only weekly flight to the Falklands leaves.

I have no idea how this could be American’s fault, but the guy at LATAM – who was clearly just putting me on hold while he berated other problematic travelers – just kept telling me that American had to “protect me.” He failed to explain how or why I was going to be protected. American tried to do the job for me – but all they got was to call back the next morning and say that “maybe the strike would be over – and more flights would be available.”

Didn’t sound likely to me. I let the crew who were also traveling and the skipper of the boat waiting down in the Falklands know I was in travel hell and might not make it on Saturday. A couple of the crew had already arrived in Santiago and they valiantly tried to help me by going to the airport and speaking directly with LATAM. Nothing gave. I was stuck.

I fully admit, I was in a funk. A real funk. I had missed the conference, and then missed the extra time I thought Bernadette and me and Jamesie would have had – because I was locked on the phone for what was 9 hours in total, with two more hours still to come the following day – non of which had been built into my tight plans. I was now also behind with the leaving preparations. GRAND FUNK!

I could either passively accept things and miss the first week, or I could place confidence in the strike being settled and call the next day to find I had been allocated a seat on an achievable, yet unconfirmed connection. As I sat with Bernadette that Tuesday evening, sipping on Vodka and Kombucha – my mind rolled around the alternatives I hadn’t fully explored. Santiago to Punta Arenas was a full 36 hours of driving door to door, and it involved crossing the Andes mountains – stupid. I had 49 hours of time available – in total from landing in Santiago to flying out of Punta Arenas. That wasn’t an option. There are no trains. The bus ride is actually a combination of rides and in total it was 48 hours from leaving the bus station in down town Santiago. Not an option. I was almost resolved to the inevitable and so sat to have some quality time with Bernadette (catching up on the latest episode of The Voice – so not real quality). However, she could tell my mind wasn’t on whatever Blake Shelton thought of Jack Frost’s performance. She suggested we leave this for later and go back up to the office! Within 30 minutes of playing on the internet I had re-confirmed a number of things, not least that there were no International connections into Punta Arenas. There were no flights to be booked with other carriers out of Santiago into Punta Arenas – there are two other carriers and they showed no availability – twerps. However, there was something new I came across  – I could fly from Buenos Aires into a little place called Rio Grande in Tierra del Fuego – in Argentina and it was only a 6 hour drive over the border into Chile and to Punta Arenas. I also found out that you absolutely can’t rent a car in one country and leave it in another. In fact, they don’t even let you take it over the border and then bring it back. Forbidden – not clear by whom. Now for the piece de resistance – there was a bus service from Rio Grande to Punta Arenas and it only took 8 hours, including getting off and getting on a ferry to cross the Strait of Magellan. There was more…

I found a little annotated diagram on one site – showing that the bus station in Rio Grande was a 6 minute taxi ride from the airport and the bus ride would be 8 hours. The bus left Rio Grande at 10.30 (am) on Friday morning and the flight from Buenos Aires took off at 5.30 Friday morning, arriving at 09.00 (am). This could be a possibility! Planes, taxis, buses and a ferry and I could make it into Punta Arenas by 18.30 (6.30pm) on Friday night – in time for a beer and some dinner and a night’s sleep and a taxi to the airport to catch my midday flight across to the Falklands. I explained all of this to Bernadette who gave me an encouraging nod –  which either said – “go for it” – or “you idiot, when is enough enough?”

Enough is never enough until you’ve exhausted all avenues, when the purpose is important – tenacity. Changing plans when presented with changes in circumstance – flexibility. Flying into Buenos Aires, hanging around for 20 hours in a shady hotel, catching an early morning flight when heavy thunder storms are forecast, riding a local taxi from a small airport into a small town in Tierra Del Fuego – where the location of the bus station is disputed between several locations within the same web page – getting a ferry across a famously rough piece of water and hoping the bus would be similarly transported and finish it’s trip into Punta Arenas – stupidity – maybe.

I bought the flight, bought the bus ticket (including picking a seat), reserved a hotel room near to Buenos Aires airport (wrong hotel – more to come on that), sent a note to Alice in Boston to call places en route and clarify things in Spanish – various ill explained pieces of mis-information  and then contented myself that if this failed, effort wouldn’t be the issue.

I was off to the Falkland Islands!