I have always wanted to visit Antarctica, the White Continent at the southern end of the Earth. But I could never justify the cost, especially since Melissa wasn’t as interested in going. So when a dear friend made it possible for me to join her on an 11-day trip to Antarctica at the beginning of the year, I felt hugely fortunate.
We traveled on the Viking Expeditions ship Octantis from the southernmost city in South America (Ushuaia, Argentina) to the northern end of the Antarctic Peninsula. There we spent a week exploring the bays, channels, and islands of the northernmost part of the continent. We saw penguins and humpback whales, mountains, glaciers, and icebergs of all shapes and sizes. We took excursions in small boats, walked along rocky shores and snowy paths, and even hiked on the sea ice that covered a bay.
It was one of the most extraordinary trips I’ve ever taken. The stark, pure beauty of the sea and landscapes constantly awed me. I don’t think I’ve said “wow” so often since my early visits to the Swiss Alps.
What was it like in Antarctica?
Much of the time, being on the edge of Antarctica was like living in a black and white photograph: slate-gray water, cloudy skies, the black rock of mountains and shores flecked with snow or covered with blankets of ice tens or even hundreds of feet high. The only flecks of color were robin’s-egg or turquoise blue from light refracting through cracks in glaciers or the underwater parts of icebergs. That and the bright red and yellow of our Viking parkas and kayaks.
We had a few bits of rare sunshine, which turned the water midnight blue and the ice brilliant white. Then everyone rushed to the rails of the ship to take pictures. January is high summer in Antarctica. Temperatures hovered around the low 30s Fahrenheit, though the wind sometimes made it feel colder. Far from being the epic deep freeze you associate with polar regions, the weather was much like that of winters in the northern United States. It snowed sometimes, but only lightly.
Although we saw other ships in the distance, we never saw other people. Everywhere we stopped in Antarctica, we were the only humans around. The stillness and the silence were profound. The overwhelming feeling was of being very far away from everything else.
What about icebergs?
I’ll never forget my first view of an iceberg. After more than a day of open-water sailing, with nothing on the horizon in any direction but the occasional ship, I saw a big, dark shape on the water far in the distance. At first it looked like a container ship. But through binoculars, I realized it was a large, flat mass of floating ice—probably broken off from an ice shelf and drifting with the currents. Its sheer size stunned me.
Over the days that followed, I became acquainted with icebergs large and small (the small ones up close, the large ones always from a distance as the ship steered carefully around them). The sea looked like it was dotted with sculptures that had been etched by the winds and waves into all kinds of shapes. Those shapes constantly changed as the icebergs drifted past and I saw them from different angles.
Occasionally, a small iceberg would go by with one or two penguins hitching a ride on top. Then I’d grab my binoculars and watch them with delight until they disappeared from view.
Did you see much wildlife?
Antarctica has no land mammals, but it’s rich in bird and marine life. We saw three types of penguins during our voyage (Adelie, Gentoo, and Chinstrap). From the ship or from the smaller boats we took out for daily excursions, we often saw penguins in the water or on shore. I learned some new things about these lovable birds:
- Penguins are great climbers, trudging slowly up steep trails through the snow to reach their nesting sites in high rocky areas, beyond the reach of hungry seals.
- They make small mounds of stones to nest on. We got good views of a penguin nesting site on one of our shore hikes, though we didn’t see any chicks.
- While swimming, penguins sometimes leap entirely out of the water like dolphins—possibly to get their bearings or to make it harder for seals or orcas to catch them. A group of little leaping penguins is ridiculously cute.
We also saw lots of humpback whales—or, more accurately, their water spouts, dorsal fins, and tails. Humpbacks spend the summer feeding in Antarctica, fattening themselves on rich supplies of shrimp-like krill, before migrating north almost to the Equator to give birth. Besides whales, we also spotted a pair of seals on distant sea ice and many types of seabirds, such as terns, gulls, albatross, petrels, and cormorants.
Was it hard to get there?
Antarctica is not somewhere you go for a quick jaunt. Getting there required 18 hours of flying (from DC to Houston to Buenos Aires to Ushuaia). Mechanical problems and flight delays on United Airlines stretched our time in transit to more than 48 hours and cost us a planned day of sightseeing in Buenos Aires. After that, it took a day and a half of sailing to cross the Drake Passage, which separates South America from Antarctica.
As a timid sailor, I worried for months about the crossing. The Drake Passage is where the waters of the Atlantic, Pacific, and Southern Oceans meet. With no land anywhere on the globe at those latitudes to slow waves, swells in the Drake Passage can be huge. (The best advice I got before my trip was not to look at YouTube videos of the Drake.)
I’m happy to report that the crossings to and from Antarctica were much easier than I’d feared. Between my prescription motion-sickness patches and the ship’s underwater stabilizer bars, I felt very little nausea (not nearly as much as on mountain bus rides). We entered the Drake Passage late at night; the lurching motion woke me up and kept me sleepless for hours. (Nora slept right through it like a trooper.) But by morning, I was used enough to the motion to wobble along the hallways, eat meals, and listen to audiobooks and lectures. (I saved reading for calmer waters.)
If you’re eager to visit Antarctica but worried about the crossing, I say pluck up your courage and go! Any rough sailing will be only a few days out of an amazing voyage.
What was it like on the ship?
I’d never been on a multinight cruise before, so I didn’t have much basis for comparison. But our Viking ship, Octantis, felt to me like an oasis of luxury, with spacious, comfortable rooms and impeccable service. Octantis carries 378 passengers and 256 crew members, making it one of the bigger vessels operating close to shore in Antarctica. But the ship never felt huge or overwhelming. Instead, it felt cozy and peaceful, in tune with the breathtaking scenery visible out every window.
Viking prides itself on its calm vibe. There are no children allowed and no casinos, dance clubs, or shows. Instead, there were lectures and films, scientific presentations, concerts, a couple of trivia contests (which our team won!), a spa, and a fitness center where you could exercise with amazing views. There was also plenty of time to read or relax in the cozy lounges scattered around ship—each with a bar nearby in case you got thirsty. At meal times, there was a amazingly diverse array of interesting, tasty food. Given that we had to take all of our supplies for 11 days with us from Argentina, I have no idea how the wizards in the kitchen kept serving beautiful fresh fruit until almost the last day.
I may not take another cruise in my life. (I’m not a fan of cruises because of their environmental impact and their tendency to overwhelm small or fragile places with thousands of people who do little for the local economy.) But if I ever did take another cruise, it would probably have to be on Viking. They’ve spoiled me for anything else.
In particular, I was impressed with the commitment to responsible environmental stewardship on the ship. Once we reached the narrow channels of the Antarctic Peninsula, the ship never traveled faster than 10 knots to avoid hitting whales. At dusk each night, blinds were put down on all the windows to prevent birds from being attracted to the light and striking the ship. Staff were meticulous about making sure we never dropped anything in the water or on shore and about disinfecting our boots before and after each excursion to prevent contamination of the pristine landscape.
Octantis also played an active role in scientific research. The ship had more than a dozen scientists on board, including several whose graduate studies were being partly funded by Viking. In exchange for giving presentations and talking with interested passengers, the ship’s scientists got passage to this faraway place to conduct their research. With help from passengers, they launched weather balloons for the National Weather Service, took water and soil samples to analyze in the ship’s lab, counted penguins and other wildlife, and gathered reams of data to help further humanity’s understanding of this amazing continent.
