Just after our barbecue, the Amadeo I came to perhaps the trickiest maneuver in the fjords: the English Narrow, an S-curve that requires precise navigation. The passengers shuffled to the ship’s mirador de proa (prow lookout) en masse, braving the winds to witness this delicate bit of captaining. Just before the turn, I looked up to the bridge and met eyes with the Captain. He raised his brows at me as if saying, “Look what I can do,” and proceeded to execute the maneuver with ease. We were left to admire the scenery as a thick fog rolled in. Our ship’s horn blasted four times to warn the cargo ship a few kilometers to our rear that the fog would be obscuring their sight at the English Narrow. In the afternoon, we passed the Capitán Leonidas shipwreck, a picturesque but sobering reminder of how deceptively shallow these channels can be. My initial wish was to get a closer look, but I quickly realized that would be a poor idea. As the day drew to a close, the ship’s hostess passed around motion sickness pills. I took one just in case. That night we were sailing through open waters, and the ship did dip and swoon as unobstructed Pacific winds combed across our route.