Editor’s note: This is part one of a story titled “The Straits”)

The sun has risen, shining between two snow-covered mountain peaks. The waves are 15 feet high, breaking over the bow and spraying salt on everything they touch. We are at full sail, with winds of 20 miles per hour or more. We are all scared to death. Our group is retracing the steps of Magellan’s route through the islands at the southern tip of South America.

A band of brothers from New Jersey — Lug Nut, Buck Wheat, Grasshopper, and myself, Buttercup — are heading to the tip of South America. A year in the making, it was hard to leave our wives and children, but we are adventurous. We have been in the gym every night for strength training and are ready for this journey.

This trip started 40 hours ago in New York, with a flight to Buenos Aires, a transfer to El Calafate International Airport in Patagonia, Argentina.

There’s more to this in the current issue of the Times Virginian newspaper. Support local journalism by purchasing the issue at a local newsstand or subscribing at www.timesvirginian.com/subscriber_services to receive the print edition or view the full article in the e-edition version.