A miserable night spent crossing the Golfo San Jorge in a NE near gale almost eclipsed the sheer joy of the anchorage we had just left. For my money these were anchorages of a lifetime. The Leones islands are about halfway down the length of Argentina, isolated, uninhabited, made of a kind of sandy rock that readily falls to dust. And behind them, on the mainland, is a cleft in the rocks which takes you into an intriguing fjord that is truly awe inspiring. Sheer cliffs form the only safe harbour for many miles; it is a place to truly feel lost to the world. There are no humans here apart from us, and a rich variety of birds gave us suspicious glances as we came in. At night, all is totally silent. No planes fly over here. The only disturbance was due to baby seal who took an interest in our self steering paddle and played with it for much of the night. Then, when we thought it could get no better, we spotted in the pilot book a reference to a penguin colony on a nearby island. We anchored beneath a derelict lighthouse and cautiously went ashore. The penguins didn't seem to mind. Some waddled back to their burrows and peered out at us. Others took us in their stride and stared us out. One allowed me within a couple of feet before dismissing me with a flick of his flipper and waddling off towards the sea. Yet another magic spot, in only 24 hours. We are now just north of Puerto Deseado, the last harbour before the Beagle Channel 400 miles away. We shall not stop - no need. A bit of a blow expected in the next 24 hours but we are well prepared.