Heart Beat:I have been away these past few weeks on my own little voyage. It was something I always wanted to do.
Some friends warned me against it, claiming that a mixture of boredom and cabin fever would finally drive me out of my mind.
Others predicted that I would enjoy every minute.
Accordingly, I found myself in the City of the Most Holy Trinity and Port of St Mary of the Fair Winds, better known in these more crowded days as Buenos Aires.
I was following, in part, the path of the famed Portuguese navigator, Fernando de Magalhaes, or Magellan, although it must be admitted in slightly more comfort.
In fact, Magellan never touched present day Buenos Aires, but I know one thing for sure. If he had and Mrs Magellan had accompanied the expedition, he would probably still be there, probably standing outside a shoe shop on Calle Florida watching with horror as his Highest Authority covered the floor with more shoes than you would see outside a Grand Mosque.
The hostile natives who killed him in the Philippines might well have been pre-empted by furious shopkeepers in Buenos Aires, informed after multiple fittings that there was nothing suitable.
Buenos Aires is a beautiful, friendly city with welcoming people. The prices of food, drink, transport and accommodation made me very conscious of the competition for our own tourist industry. We simply don't compare.
The Portenos do not take incompetence lightly, their streets were spotless and well policed and they take great pride in their city. Intriguingly, there was nearly a riot over a moderate blockage at a toll plaza as furious motorists protested at, what to us would have been, an inconsequential delay.
When I made this point to our driver, he shrugged and said: "why should we have to put up with this incompetence". Why indeed, I thought, visualising more or less continuous bloodshed on the M50. We put up with too much, with little or muted protest. Other nations simply would not.
To return to my epic voyage; my father at one stage of his life had served in the Merchant Marine and had sailed in most seas and oceans. He had graphically described the difficulties and dangers of rounding Cape Horn and the wonders of the Southern Oceans and Antarctica. Fuelled also by the stories of Sir Ernest Shackleton and Kerryman, Tom Crean, I wanted to see for myself.
However, I had little interest in sharing the dangers and difficulties of these illustrious predecessors and rather opted to undertake the journey in as much comfort, and with as little danger, as possible.
Accordingly, having flown to Buenos Aires and having been lavishly reprovisioned and watered, the Highest Authority and I made our way to the flimsy barque which was due to take us through the Magellan Strait, explore the Beagle Channel and take us around Cape Horn, thence along the Chilean coast, finally disembarking in Callao, the port of Lima, in Peru.
Before departing I had described this epic voyage to a lady acquaintance: five hundred of us on a 70ft boat.
"Really," she said, "I am sure that will be very interesting."
It would indeed, but I had omitted a zero and we became part of the motley crew assembled on the 700ft, MS Seven Seas Mariner, operated by Regent cruises and under the command of Captain Philippe Fichet-Delavault, from St Malo in France.
I was no sophisticated cruise aficionado, unlike many of my fellow passengers, and accordingly had no benchmark (or is that a dirty word?) against which to measure my expectation. But let me say straight out that it was a wonderful experience.
The only personal drawback was that I regained eight pounds of the weight so painfully shed. I was quite relieved it was so little.
I think we did rather better than Magellan, Darwin and all those folk and we did not have to eat a single penguin. The food was simply magnificent and willpower was stretched to the limit and beyond.
I found no time for boredom on the journey, afloat or ashore. There was something for everybody and the space in which to do it. We had lectures from naturalists and marine interest specialists and we had two special people, a lady of Irish extraction called Terri Breen, an anthropologist and story teller par excellence, and ex-US ambassador Sam Hart who talked about world affairs.
Furthermore, on days at sea, a discussion group would meet before lunch, chaired by our English cruise director Barry Hopkins to discuss myriad topics. It quickly became apparent there were many knowledgeable folk aboard and I learned a lot from their input.
Nothing passed the ship or vice versa without us being made aware. We had an excellent view of the latest comet, McNaught, the brightest in nearly 100 years.
It was growing colder approaching Cape Horn and the Antarctic; thus far we had excellent weather and calm seas, with little call on the ship's excellent medical services.
Was this too good to last?
Seafarer Maurice Neligan is also a cardiac surgeon.