Antarctica: A Legendary Adventure
to the Bottom of the World

It never occurred to me that you could visit Antarctica. It's all science and research stations and relics of explorers past, or so I thought. On my long list of places to travel, Antarctica didn’t even make the cut. In 2013, I met a family while hiking in Peru who regaled me with tales of the great white continent. "Antarctica is the best place we've ever been," they said. The idea has stuck with me ever since. Why was it so great?

In July 2014, I was laying in bed at night thinking about life and travel and suddenly, without warning, Antarctica popped into the forefront of my mind. I had to go. I had to take pictures of the ice. I had to see for myself. I was booked and paid-in-full a few weeks later. Friends often asked why I didn’t just go to Iceland or Alaska, or some place easier to get to. I didn’t have a good answer. Only that for whatever reason, it had to be Antarctica.

Getting There

I started traveling in the morning of December 4th, 2014 starting from San Francisco and then on to Panama City to Buenos Aires and finally to Ushuaia in a 27 hour stretch. It was brutal! Four legs, without stopping, from one airport to the next. I felt my body unnaturally contorting to the seated position, head cocked and neck twisted. Each flight deepening that aching tiredness so common to prolonged air travel. 

In Ushuaia, I was greeted with sunny skies and mountainous peaks in every direction. I had no expectations of the southernmost city in the world and was pleasantly surprised! Ushuaia is a cross between an up and coming ski town and a colorful tourist gateway. It’s a destination that leads elsewhere, but pretty all the same.

Travelers from all around the world were starting (or ending) their adventures here and many like me were making their way to Antarctica. I met a group of Antarctic revelers at a small Irish pub called the Dublin. Together, we drank and laughed and imagined the stories we’d have when we return. We were a boisterous bunch, exuberantly anxious about what the trip might bring, excited to embark on a journey unknown.
 

Aboard the M/V Sea Adventurer 

When it came time to greet our ship,the M/V Sea Adventurer, I already had many new friends in tow and happy stories emblazoned on the pages of my journal. As soon as I stepped on board, everything hit me, all at once. 

“Is it really happening?”

All of the thoughtful planning and prep has lead me to this moment. My excitement was uncontrollable. My unadulterated bliss — palpable and obvious to anyone standing near. The pull of the Antarctic, so strong, that there was undeniably no other place in the world for me to be than right here, right now. The ship’s lines were cast. We pull away. Ushuaia, disappearing into the gray, overcast sky. Soft, cold rain fell while the shoreline slowly disappeared, until nothing was left but sea.

And so it began.

We were finally on our way to Antarctica, but not without its price. The cost of entry to our prized destination? The Drake Passage. The Drake, as its called, is the the temperamental open waters between Argentina and Antarctica. It's where the Southern Ocean and the Pacific Ocean meet. It's a place notorious for wild weather. We were headed straight for it. 

The ship and its 100 passengers fit into two camps: those worried about the rolling, tumultuous swells of an angry sea and those hoping for it. Hoping for all the extremes of Antarctica, I fit comfortably in the latter group.

For those few days in open waters, I rode the rolls with joy and tumbled over with glee. At night, I hovered ever so slightly just above my bed as thunderous waves rolled by. It made me laugh most of the time. The swells were big. It was no joke! Our experience was only a 4 out of 10, we’re told. It’s an average Drake.

Our crossing was not so kind to everyone, as you’d imagine, and many fellow shipmates will tell a very different tale of the Drake Passage. The sick bags placed liberally throughout the halls were used by many and often. To be clear however, I had taken preventative measures in the form of Gravol, motion bands, and ginger chews. I never planned to tackle these seas on my own.

During our passage, I’d become a late-night regular on the bridge, sleepily making way up the ship at 2am. Marios and Alex were the only ones there, watching the course and keeping us safe. They shared their stories and their tea in between pointing out distant shapes and penguins on icebergs amid the charcoal sky. I wasn’t sleeping very much, taking a shift approach to the night: two hours up, two hours asleep. The sky was always on. There was always something to see. 

Like magic, the South Shetland Islands appeared - the first sign that we were getting close. Open waters were behind us, and through the night we passed by the island group en route to the Antarctic Sound. The water was adorned with massive tabular icebergs, a key characteristic of this region. By morning we’d reach our first stop on the north-east side of the Antarctic Peninsula. 

We had arrived.

The Antarctic Peninsula: Glorious & Unforgettable

Day to day life in Antarctica was thrilling! Aboard the ship, we were awoken softly each morning with music and morning announcements. Then, it was off to the zodiacs for our daily adventures. I'd always be up and ready to go in flash. Strapping into the cumbersome and awkward cold weather gear in an instant. I barely missed a beat, always with an unrelenting grin.

Each day we visited two locations: one in the morning and one in the afternoon with zodiac cruising, hiking ashore and kayaking (if you’d signed up and paid extra) as activity options. 

Though the visit to Antarctica proper was a mere five days, it felt infinitely longer. In part because the sun never really set and because the days were packed with truly amazing sights. With each landing, everyone on the ship shared the same sentiment: “It can’t get any better than this!” — and yet somehow, it did. And so with each 7:00am wake up call, I was overwhelmed with excitement about what the day would bring. 

Day 2, PM - Portal Point

The afternoon excursion was at Portal Point on Charlotte Bay. My group of intrepid kayakers paddled through enormous ice on a surprisingly bright, blue and warm sunny day - an incredible contrast to the surrounding white landscapes. We followed a few humpback whales in the distance before heading to shore to hike up to a vista point overlooking the bay. I cried here. A lot. The beauty of this place was truly overwhelming and the tears fell without warning. 

Day 3, AM - Orne Harbor

The kayakers were up and out early, having gotten into the swing of getting into gear each day. The weather turned for the worse while we were paddling and heavy swells caused dramatic waves. Deeming it unsafe, our kayaking guides Becs and Sean took us to shore instead where we hiked up a steep cliff to visit a nesting chinstrap penguin colony. In the middle of the night ,the sky lit up unlike anything I’d ever seen, with vibrant pink and purple hues painting everything in sight.

Day 3, PM - Cuverville Island

Another sunny day out on the kayaks with remarkable, pristine conditions. We paddled along the ice and glaciers and mountains, spotting Gentoo penguins hiking up a nearby cliffside. We then cruised to shore, visiting larger Gentoo colonies shuffling about. Before long, we took another zodiac cruise around a massive garden of sculptural icebergs. We anchored overnight there, and those who signed up for camping slept on shore.

Day 4, AM - Paradise Bay

For the first time, I skipped kayaking for a zodiac cruise, to get closer to glacier faces and the ice of Paradise Bay. Our driver Fede, historian and guide, took us exploring around the bay getting super close to crazy shapes of the ice. Afterwards, we visited Almirante Brown, an abandoned Argentinian base where I soaked in the Antarctic summer sun and watched the penguins again. It was here at Paradise Bay where a crazy group of passengers temporarily lost their good judgement and plunged into the icy Antarctic waters. It was a cool -1 degree Celsius and I was among them.  It was a cool -1 degree Celsius and expedition team guides, Will and Liz captured the expressive glory from every one of our faces.

Day 4, PM - Port Lockroy 

The clouds at Port Lockroy matched the brash ice of the sea, at which point it was hard to tell what was up and was down. We paddled again around Jougla Point and Goudier Island when the skies cleared up revealing astonishing blue skies reflected perfectly in the calm, mirror waters. On shore we visited the famous UK Base (now a museum and post office) surrounded by carefree gentoo penguins -- unfazed by the presence of humans. As we sailed away, we encountered 20 orca whales! Jimmy and Christian, expedition guides and marine biologists were in heaven. An epic ending to the day.

Day 5, AM - Baily Head 

The most impressive landing we had was at Bailey Head on Deception Island. Kayaking was definitely too dangerous there. Bailey Head is completely exposed to the elements, and only in the most favorable conditions can anyone land there. This was a true testament to the extreme professionalism and skill of our expedition team. The reward was epic!!! 100,000 pairs of chinstrap penguins - the largest colony we'd seen. 

Day 5, PM - Fort Point 

Our last excursion was at Fort Point, a dramatic mountain-scape jutting up from nowhere as if it were formed angrily, all at once. We kayaked around the point and landed on shore, observing seals, four different types of penguins: Gentoos, Adélie, Chinstraps and ONE vagrant Macaroni - he didn't belong there having traveled on his own, far away from home. Santi, expedition guide and ornithologist shared his theories on why the lone Macaroni was there, but ultimately he didn't really know. 

Leaving Antarctica

After Fort Point, that depressing feeling started to fall on the ship. Many of us weren't quite ready to say goodbye to Antarctica, I certainly wasn't. I hoped there'd be just one more day. (Ok, I hoped there'd be many more days). Maybe a storm on the Drake Passage would force us to wait it out in this polar paradise... I wasn't quite done. 

But, no. The Drake was calm, guiding us home.

Thankfully, we had another two full days of northbound sailing before heading back to reality. Those two days afforded me the necessary time to decompress and to process the experience. It also gave our ship of new friends plenty of time for late-night dance parties, boozy celebrations, trivia and toasts, speeches and slideshows and a few more nights of social dining with the crew and our team.

Without the Drake, the trip would have come to a jarring conclusion, leaving me utterly heartbroken and abandoned at the port of Ushuaia. (Even though that’s how I felt at the end anyway). I was one of the very last to get off our ship, soaking in every last bit before I absolutely had to go. 

And then it was over. 

Coming Home

My Antarctic experience is an epic sum of hundreds of immensely special micro-moments. Moments where I cried from the unimaginable remarkableness of the Antarctic wilderness. Moments of child-like wonder, heartfelt moments from fellow passengers, hugs from the expedition team and the ship’s crew — moments of ridiculous glee, utter exhaustion, intense respect and unparalleled gratitude —  moments of extremes and everything in between. 

I’ve traveled to many places around the world. I’ve visited grand locations and experienced several journeys that taught me invaluable lessons about myself and how I fit into this world. Something was different about Antarctica. I can’t exactly describe how it was so profound, why it was so life-changing or what exact impact it had on me. 

Since my return, there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by without scheming on how to go back — how to experience that same incredible joy, that same need to make a difference, that same need to be there again. There’s not a single place in the world I’ve been to (yet) that’s given me the same feeling. And I’m not alone. We all so emphatically believe that “Life will never be the same!” And so far it hasn’t been.

Now that I’m home, I have two big goals in mind: The first, going back — it’s a must. The second, exploring ways to bring the spirit of Antarctica, travel and photography back to my everyday life.

And with that, I encourage you to visit this dream of a place to fully understand what I’m talking about. 

As soon as possible. 

Or perhaps you'll join me right here, the next time I go. When, "I've just returned from Antarctica" no longer applies and "I'm headed back!" is the state I'm in. And then, we can do this all over again as I plan and prep for a new adventure to the bottom of the world and the top of my heart.

Parting Words:

There's no way I could ever tell all the stories, there's so many and this post is already way too long. It's likely I will share some more of the more substantial mini-stories as separate posts like Noelle and Stephen's engagement, Solan's wakeup calls and Lucy's incredible impersonation of it, Rosemary's amazing speech, Christian's chart, Emily, Liz and Ali dancing through the Drake, Fede and Sarah dance the salsa, the Library party I happened upon at 1am, IVAN!, Jaegar Bombs at the Dublin (with a priceless reaction from Justin and Minh), Sarah almost being on the wrong ship, hiking Glacier Martial, hiking Tierra del Fuego, Alec stumbling upon me in losing it in happy tears, Captains Cocktails, Gigi and Ann taking care of me and so many, many more... It was too good.

Special thanks to all of Quark's expedition team and crew who showed me the incredible and inspiring Antarctic Wilderness. It wouldn't have been the same without this exact group at these exact places. 

Thank you!