Antarctica
In the fall of 2023, Casey and I traversed to the literal end of the Earth: Antarctica. Why? To celebrate my 40th birthday, and also because Casey and I have a marriage goal of visiting all the continents together.
Since you can’t just show up in Antarctica, we did a lot of research on touring companies that respected the environment. We ended up booking our trip with Intrepid, a certified B Corp that supports local economies, focuses on sustainability, and sees traveling as an opportunity to connect. Importantly, they are part of the International Association of Antarctic Tour Operators (IAATO), which has strict guidelines and regulations to keep the continent pristine.
It took two days to fly to the end of South America and two days to cross the Drake Passage by ship, but we finally made it! Antarctica was otherworldly because it is so untouched by humanity. Its beauty lies in the fact that it has been set apart, and I hope it stays that way.
Icebergs sculpted by wind
Tierra del Fuego
On October 31, after roughly 34 hours of travel, we arrived in Ushuaia, Argentina, our jumping off point. We arrived a couple days ahead of our embark date to ensure we didn’t miss it. Ushuaia isn’t a large town. It’s hilly but easy enough to wander around. We spent a full day just walking, from the street of touristy gear shops to the cemetery to the waterfront. Ushuaia sits right on the Beagle Channel, which is surrounded by tall, rugged mountains.
We learned that the Yaghan peoples spent a lot of time in their bark canoes, which were insulated with sod. They even kept small fires in the canoes for heat and light as they traveled. When Portuguese explorer Ferdinand Magellan tried to round Cape Horn and went through the Beagle Channel, he saw plumes of smoke rising from the water, a la “Land of Fire” or Tierra del Fuego.
On our second day exploring Ushuaia, we rode El Tren del Fin del Mundo—the train at the end of the world. This historic narrow gauge railway goes through a formal penal colony where prison labor was forced to log in order to build Ushuaia. At some points, the stumps were knee-high, showing how deep the snow was when the trees were being cut. After the train trip, we visited Parque Nacional Tierra del Fuego, at the end of Rt 3, which goes all the way from the tip of Argentina to Alaska.
Food Recommendations:
El Viejo Marino specializes in southern king crab. Get there early—they don’t take reservations, so prepare for a line.
Cafe Martinez is a local chain that has great snacks and coffee.
Bodegón Fueguino has excellent local dishes. I recommend the lamb in orange and honey sauce.
María Lola Restó was our last meal. It was expensive but very worth it!
Hotel Recommendations:
Hotel Albatros was the best place we stayed. It is centrally located, clean, and well managed.
Our last wander took us up to Cerro Martial, a glacial valley high above Ushuaia. It was stunning. It reminded us a lot of the French Valley in Torres del Paine.
Our Antarctic voyage was the first of the season, and it took a day longer for our boat to arrive, so Intrepid arranged for us to take a catamaran down the Beagle Channel. We saw cormorants, sea lions, and the iconic lighthouse. We also saw Magellanic and gentoo penguins for the first time in the wild.
The catamaran tour offered a chance to get to know our fellow passengers. We still keep in touch with our Aussie friends Joy, Dave, Hannah, and Luke!
Travel considerations:
We booked our Intrepid trip nearly two years in advance while it was on sale. It was $8500 a person, not including flights.
We flew via Argentinian Airlines, which was . . . an adventure.
We were required to have travel insurance with a minimum of $500K coverage.
Argentina did not require US travelers to have a visa.
No vaccines were required beyond the most recent Covid vaccine.
Intrepid provided a detailed packing list.
Drake Passage
On November 4, we finally boarded our ship, the Ocean Endeavour. It’s on the smaller side of Antarctic cruise ships, with only 189 guests. I was glad for this because it meant we could maneuver into smaller bays.
Our room was comfortable with a queen bed, couch, desk, closet, and a bathroom with a shower. We had two small windows facing starboard. Importantly, I put on a Scopolamine patch for motion sickness. These were my saving grace during the rough waters the Drake Passage is infamous for. I will note that I did have withdrawal when I got back to Argentina, though, which felt like all the seasickness hit me at once. Not fun. Still, the patches were worth it.
The ship had a dining room where breakfast and lunch were a buffet and dinner had a limited menu that changed daily. There was also a workout room, plenty of space to lounge and read, a presentation hall, a small shop, walkable decks, a hot tub, and a pool. (Unfortunately our crossing was rough enough that the pool was never open.)
The Drake Passage crosses the Southern Ocean, which has infinite fetch, the distance wind travels before hitting a land mass. Around Antarctica, there is no land, so the winds get wild. We hit 4-5 meter swells, making us grateful the chairs in the dining room were chained down. Whole shelves of dishes crashed and shattered multiple times.
During the rough days at sea, the crew offered lectures about citizen climate scientist initiatives. From phytoplankton and clouds to birds and whales, everyone on board had the opportunity to help collect information. Antarctica is so remote, scientists rely on volunteers to gather data. We also attended a photography lesson and a biosecurity meeting where we learned how to check our outer layers for anything organic (grasses and dirt can get caught in velcro). In addition, we were taught why we had to step in a virucide solution before leaving the ship. At the time of our travel, Antarctica was the only continent where avian flu hadn’t been detected. We aimed to keep it that way.
Deception Island
By November 6 we were finally in the Antarctic biome. Captain Jack surprised us by taking us to Deception Island. He maneuvered the ship through Neptune’s Bellow, a tight squeeze with an underwater, hidden rock in the middle—Raven’s Rock. Deception Island was one of the highlights of the trip for me. It is an active volcano caldera.
This was our first opportunity to go through the mud room procedure and board a zodiac. You have to wear several layers, including a Gill coat, a life jacket, waterproof pants, and mud boots.
The sand on shore was black and warm—we could feel the heat even through our boots. We saw colonies of chinstrap penguins and gentoo penguins. A few lucky folks also saw a single Adélie penguin.
Gentoo penguins on Deception Island
Antarctic Peninsula
By November 7, we had finally reached the peninsula. The icebergs were the most amazing blue. In groups of about twelve, we were able to take a zodiac out and around them, noting the way each eroded from the wind and the water in incredible, natural patterns. As we puttered around Brabant Island in our zodiac, with the sun shining and the water calm, the sheer silence of the place was so moving. It felt like we’d reached a place of absolute calm.
Iceberg!
Then, all of a sudden, it began hailing and the water became choppy. Our zodiac was nearly two nautical miles from the ship. The ride back was harrowing. I gripped the ropes in thick gloves while the zodiac bounced across the waves. Freezing sea water splashed in our faces. The ship even tried to get closer to us. We were so soaked by the time we got back that I was shocked our life vests didn’t self-inflate, a safety design in case you fall in. We definitely earned our Antarctica patches with that outing.
Wildlife-wise, we saw a seal, cormorants, and (very far away) some fin whales.
The Antarctic peninsula
On November 8, we finally walked on the continent proper. For a while, the captain was afraid we wouldn’t get the opportunity. Being the first trip of the season, the snow on the banks can be 40 feet deep. But he found a decent beach to land on in Neko Harbor. The scene as the zodiac pulled in was magical: Completely silent save for gurgles of water. A glacier in back that looked like it was about to calve. Gentoo penguins porpoising. Icebergs that glowed blue. I will never forget the majesty of that day.
After everyone safely returned to the ship—in the middle of a snow storm—they held the polar plunge. Casey, wearing his blue speedo, jumped into the Southern Ocean as I cheered from the deck.
By November 9 we were ready to head back across the Drake. We’d experienced brash ice, snow storms, and sunshine. We’d seen whales, seals, and penguins. We’d made lifelong friends and experienced a continent not many people get to see. Oh, and Casey won the haiku contest:
Please drive faster
Really, really need to pee
Must get back to ship
Our itinerary
Antarctica is such a special place, precisely because of its remote nature. It is the coldest, driest continent, with peaks in the center around 16,000 feet. It’s also divided into east and west by a mountain range, with the peninsula in the west. In the height of winter, the ice shelf doubles the size of the continent, which is why tours don’t begin until spring.
The Antarctic Treaty is an international agreement meaning no one country can claim the continent. Its motto, “Peace & Science,” is something more countries should follow.
I left Antarctica with a deeper understanding of the magic of life. This place, so far from human drama, was a balm. I feel honored to have been able to experience the beauty of this place. More than just crossing a new continent off the list, this trip was an expedition, an adventure, I will not soon forget.
