Life on 7

Antarctica for most is an opportunity to check off the seventh continent; to fall within the less than one percent of humans to ever walk on all seven continents. What you do not know until you’ve had the good fortune to go is how Antarctica changes your life. You’ve been told of the massive glaciers and the penguin-shredding leopard seals, but what you aren’t told is that you are about to embark on a voyage with one-hundred and twenty strangers with no cell phone service. In exceptionally close quarters, you’ll bond over career choices and failed relationships. You’ll be inspired by the effort it took fellow passengers to make it to Antarctica. You’ll find yourself intoxicated by the charisma that can only be found on a ship full of determined humans en route to pursing one of many dreams they’ll inevitably conquer. I could tell you about humpbacks and zodiacs or the immeasurable satisfaction of climbing to the top of Canessa Point, but that would not do justice to the journey. Antarctica strengthens you. Antarctica reinvigorates you. Antarctica empowers you. 

March 6, 2019

Ushuaia proved to be exactly as advertised—a sleepy port town perfect for backpackers hiking their way through Patagonia and die-hard adventure enthusiasts sailing their way to the final frontier. I stayed at Oshovia Hostel—a charming wood clad dormitory on the outskirts of town. If you count Ushuaia as being the closest you can get to a hostel in Antarctica, then I have now officially stayed in a hostel on every continent. When I first started traveling, hostels were the only option I could afford. Not only were they the least expensive, they were the best option for meeting fellow travelers.

Oshovia was no different. Merely a few hours after check-in I met Alex—a lovely French man now living in Vancouver. Alex was trilingual, and I was amazed at how quickly he switched from English (with me), French (with fellow travelers), and Spanish (with the locals). We drank cheap local beers and ate American potato chips as we watched soccer and touched on important topics like food, travel, and how fleeting time is.

After the game wrapped up we grabbed an early dinner (8:30 PM—several restaurants don’t even open until 9 PM in Argentina) with Kelsey and Evan. By great luck, Kelsey, a Florida native, and I had met online while researching Antarctica and discovered we were boarding the same ship to Antarctica. Kelsey’s Airbnb had suggested a great place for King Crab—which Ushuaia specifically is known for. Volver is at the opposite end of the main drag and is also wood clad and complete with kitschy trinkets and lanterns that were likely tacked on the wall in the 1970s. We ordered wine, spoke about our travels (Kelsey had been to Uganda and Alex was interested in going to Peru), and discussed our careers that allowed us these opportunities to travel.

The ceviche and King Crab Alex and I shared was incredible! The ceviche was spicy—not something I’ve found during my travels through Argentina, but enjoyed immensely. The crab was very fresh and paired with a mild aioli. Our main dish of seafood paella came and the conversation continued to flow until we were nearly the last guests remaining. The four of us walked the main drag—nestled directly between the snow capped mountains and the rushing blue water—as we tried to determine if our boat had arrived and imagine what might be in store for us in Antarctica.

Alex and I continued the thirty-five minute walk back to our hostel after having parted ways with Kelsey and Evan at the half way point. We wrapped up the evening with some great chocolate that he had picked up in town—a place that had also come recommended to me—and some mint tea. Exhausted we said good night and I went back to my dormitory where God blessed me with black out curtains and six women who, by some divine miracle, did not snore! It was the best sleep I can recall having in months.

The next day I took a hot shower (with surprisingly great water pressure) and repacked a suitcase that could only be zipped sitting directly on it and saying a silent prayer. Luggage had to be checked in at 11 AM near the port. Once luggage was checked and Alex had bought his bus ticket for his next Patagonia adventure, we went in search of food. We landed on Maria Lola, a nice spot with a good view of the water (and my ship!). After fresh fish and seafood linguini, we went in search of a small, but popular, chocolate shop, Choco Negra (where Alex had gotten his chocolate the night before).

Being French Alex has a very specific opinion on chocolate. I, on the other hand, prefer a Hershey’s bar in the freezer for twenty minutes. Somewhere, week’s later, he is rolling his eyes as he reads this post. It was in that vein that I got a piece of white chocolate (that I’m confident Alex scoffed at), a piece of mint chocolate, and a piece of milk chocolate. This would be a decision I would live to regret, as when I finally got on the boat, the chocolate was amazing and I only had a few small pieces, and certainly not enough to share with everyone.

Time was ticking as we left the chocolate shop and I had a mere forty-five minutes before I needed to be at the port for our 4 PM departure. We found the closest coffee shop with (barely working) internet and I quickly sent my last texts and posts for the next twelve days. Alex and I said rushed good-bye’s and as luck would have it, I walked out the door with four American’s who, with their American flag fanny-pack, clearly looked like they were heading to Antarctica for the first time.

As being shy isn’t my strong suit, I quickly asked them if they were departing for Antarctica and, as the overstuffed backpacks would have it, they were. Trey, seemingly the most gregarious of the four, told me that they all lived in Seattle or San Francisco, but three of them had grown up in Georgia together. Years back they had written their future selves a note saying if they hadn’t gone to Antarctica in the five years since graduation, they were heading down the wrong track, and it was to this end that they quickly course corrected and booked a quad cabin to come to Antarctica. We all walked down to the pier together with me spastically, intermittently, exclaiming how I couldn’t believe we were actually about to be Antarctica bound! I’m sure there were side glances, but they had the decency to tolerate my enthusiasm.

Once on board the MV Ortelius, we were quickly assigned to our rooms. As is the case with most ships, you have your more glamorous large rooms, complete with a view, and your quad rooms with two bunkbeds opposite each other. The closet doubles as a shower and a toilet and you are the first to die if you hit an iceberg (as cited in Titanic). Guess which one I booked?

When I got to cabin 429, I was surprised at how clean and nice the rooms were. Given what I was expecting, they were surprisingly spacious, with a small tv, a tiny closet for each person, and a decent sized bathroom (complete with a shower that was NOT over the toilet!).

As the girls started filing in, I met Lauren, Brittany, and Tika. Tika was a bubbly and adventurous twenty-three year old who had been traveling for an indeterminable amount of time, but had been randomly bitten by a bite-and-run dog in Ushuaia. She drove around for hours with a doctor looking for the second rabies vaccination in order to be able to board. Lauren was a California native, currently living just outside of San Diego. She was around my age, drawn to global travel, and specialized in wedding photography. Brittany had lived in varying places throughout the world, including a year in Seoul, Korea, traveling as a pharmacist with the military. She celebrated Carnival with her sister in Brazil and was traveling solo for the remainder of her trip. For Lauren, Brittany, and I, Antarctica was our seventh continent, and we couldn’t wait to get our eyes and feet on it.

[Myself, Brittany]

 

[Brittany, Myself, Lauren]

[Brittany, Myself, Lauren]

It turned out Trey, Steven, Patrick, and Stephen (2) were busy moving in next door to cabin 428. Time would quickly show us that we really did have the best rooms on the block—right next to the dining room, the zodiac gateway, the stairway, right next to the water station, and not near a public bathroom.

[Trey, Patrick, Stephen (2)]

[Stephen (2), Steven, Patrick]

After a mandatory safety drill, 6:30 PM rolled around, we were setting sail for the final frontier—Antarctica! We started the evening off with a Captain’s champagne toast. The crew, largely comprised of biologists, PhD’s, and polar scientists, introduced themselves and their role on the ship. The first step was crossing the Drake Passage—known to be the worst water crossing in the world. The Drake did not disappoint—we found out nearly immediately that the weather was working against us and meteorologists were calling for up to twenty-seven-foot swells.

Within twenty-four hours of boarding, over half of the one hundred and seventeen passengers were falling victim to the motion sickness of the Drake. Piles of vomit lining the stairways and the hallways couldn’t be cleaned up fast enough. There was sanitizer and a cleaning crew working around the clock and the doctor was being shuffled from cabin to cabin, with an additional line forming outside of her office door. Those who had proudly claimed the night before that they didn’t get sea-sick were puking up their apologies and ransacking the barf bags that had previously adorned the hallway rail like modern art.

The evening of March 8^th found us telling stories of travels and aspirations over bottles of red wine and unnecessary tequila shots. We broke in the Krill ‘Em All Bar—a multipurpose common area that served as a bar, a view point, game room, café, and the home of our nightly recaps. The guys spoke minimally of mountaineering, continents visited, and jobs in virtual reality hardware, software at Google, and logistics software at Convoy. The ladies spoke of forward-looking career opportunities, future travel plans, and highlights of South America.

Ladies night on the 9^th was a natural answer to the previous late-night festivities. When Harry Met Sally was Cabin 429’s pick. Conversation flowed as continuously as the movie did, discussing everything from marriage, monogamy, sex, faithfulness, Billy Crystal, and New York, to past relationships, friendships, Katz Delicatessen, and a myriad of topics usually reserved for your inner circle of friends. Conversation consumed us and we barely took notice of the 60 knots of wind or the sea state of 10 on the Beaufort scale.

March 10, 2019

The boat never ceased rocking last night and I found myself sleeping restlessly for the first time since arriving on board. During breakfast the Glacier Spotting Contest was officially won as we spotted our first glacier through the fog. Like gossip in a small town, excitement began to spread through the ship. At a distance, humpback whales were spotted on the portside of the boat. Through continued educational lectures and daily recaps, we began focusing on the environment and the wildlife we were about to encounter. Did you know that the total mass of krill in the world outweighs the total mass of all humans on Earth? Or that crabeater seals don’t eat crabs?

This mornings’ breakfast was scrambled eggs, spam, and toast. After breakfast we had a brief camping workshop and then headed back to our bunks to get ready for zodiacs in the afternoon. We loaded our dry packs with the essentials—cameras and Go-Pros and extra hand warmers. Land started coming into focus through the clouds and the excitement was mounting as the Dramamine coma began to subside and sea-sick patches were tossed to the trash.

1 pair of tall, thin wool socks, topped with long-johns, a thicker layer of wool socks, followed by fleece leggings, topped with a thick pair of wool socks, followed by water proof ski-pants, a thin black turtle neck tucked into the fleece pants, followed by a well-fitting fleece top tucked into the ski pants, a neck buff, my winter coat, tall muck boots, a beanie, topped off with a bright orange life vest became the official Antarctic uniform. I’m expecting a call from Playboy any day.

While Trey and Steven were tightening up their crampons to hike Spigot Peak in Orne Harbor, Lauren, Brittany, Patrick, Stephen (2) and I were using our passenger badges to scan ourselves off the ship and into a zodiac—a small, rubber boat suitable for ten passengers and a guide to get through the icy and often unpredictable waters of the polar regions.

The first Antarctic excursion did not disappoint—the wildlife seen in Orne Harbor was unfathomable! We saw the first of what would become thousands of penguins. A chinstrap penguin colony, so named for the black marking under their jaw, claimed the rocks just below an overhang. Meanwhile, another rookery of gentoo penguins with bright orange beaks made their home just around the rocky bend. Nestled among the penguins we saw our first seal—a fuzzy looking brown fur seal lazily napping under the overcast sky.

[Lauren Patrick, Stephen (2), Myself, Brittany]

Humpback whales played hide and seek throughout the chilly waters—we’d see fins, tales, and blow-spouts while gasping in awe and snapping photographs like wildlife paparazzi. A shy Minke whale completely eluded our zodiac, but was photographed by others peeking out from the crashing waves. As a final highlight to our first zodiac out into Antarctic waters, we came within a few meters of a stunning leopard seal yawning on the ice, showcasing not only her spots, but her razor-sharp teeth and enormous reptilian head.

High-fives, adrenaline, and discussion of our great fortune to be on this voyage flooded the zodiac as the wave of excitement continued.

March 11, 2019

After a long and enjoyable night of playing rummy and presidents (card games) with Lauren, Steven, Patrick, Emilio (Argentinian guy), Mal (Kiwi mountaineering guide), and David, the morning seemed to come much too quickly. Breakfast was served at 7:30 AM and, despite being a lover of all things food, largely consisted of buttered toast and orange juice for me.

Today was our first day of adventure activities and we couldn’t wait to get started! First up was kayaking and Brittany, Lauren, and I had signed up to be a part of the morning kayaking group in Neko Harbor. After badging out of the ship, sanitizing our ship-provided muck boots to avoid contamination, and zodiacking closer to the ice and glaciers, we finally got into our two-(wo)man kayaks. The scenery was breathtaking—brilliant sunlight, glaciers, and a sapphire-blue sky. We could see the morning group of mountaineers making their way up a nearby mountain and hear the gurgle as the waves lapped at our kayaks.

[Anna, Myself]

While the scenery proved to be breathtaking, the wildlife during our kayaking proved to still be sleeping. With the exception of a couple of humpback whales while still in the zodiac, we did not see any wildlife during our kayaking. The winds, however, managed to stay calm for the first hour and a half and we enjoyed kayaking several miles through glaciers, ice, and frosty blue water.

We made it back to the ship in time for a scalding hot shower (I cannot tell you the life a hot shower with great water pressure brings back to you after finger and toe numbing kayaking in the freezing temperatures). Following a welcomed shower, we practically ran to the dining room for lunch, which turned out to be one of the best yet—chicken fajitas with avocado and mango salsa. We gorged on chicken, tomato, and tortillas until we could not eat, or stay awake, anymore.

A quick thirty-minute nap seemed to pass entirely too quickly before we were badging back out for our next zodiac trip to Danco Island. Danco was named after Emile Danco, a geophysicist from an 1890’s expedition. Danco was a quick five-minute trip from the vessel and we found ourselves immediately greeted by Gentoo penguins. Gentoos are rather small penguins with bright orange beaks and slightly softer orange webbed feet. The majority were walking down penguin highways—paths they’ve clearly carved out from the top of the cliffs to the ocean water. The lower parts of the highway were largely made up of pebble beaches, while the upper parts were rocky, flat stones covered largely in ice and snow. The penguins were particularly curious about humans and the hum of the constant clicking cameras.

Being an island, Danco had an amazing vista after a mere twenty-minute climb to the top—passing hundreds of penguins en route. Once at the top the winds were ferocious, but the view highlighted everything from the retreating sun to ice bergs of all shapes and sizes. Humpback whales could be spotted at a long distance and the ship could be seen further down in the bay. Penguins continued to greet us as we balanced photographing everything in sight with taking in the peace, serenity, and solitude of this magnificent place.

We made it back to the ship in time for a brief happy hour, followed by our daily recap. During the recap, we discussed the days events, highlighted a few photogenic moments, and talked about the upcoming day’s events. One of the trainees gave a presentation on seals, their nuances, and their behaviors. Did you know there are two types of seals—those with ears and those without?

Dinner was another treat with a salmon appetizer, pan fried fillet of Hoki, rice, and mango salsa. For dessert we had mille fuille aka a delicious apple turnover complete with icing.

Following dinner it was time for my prep meeting for mountaineering. We all received our crampons and helmets and laced up our crampons to our hiking boots to ensure they fit. The next morning I was meant to mountaineer near Brown Station, followed by my first steps on official continental land in the afternoon, and the polar plunge!

March 12, 2019

The mountaineers were up early layering on their gear and sending up prayers for no activity cancellations. I stuffed my size eight feet, pre-wool socks, into Lauren’s size seven mountaineering boots that she was gracious enough to share. Fourteen passengers and two guides met in the lecture room and then made our way to the gateway to badge out and jump in the Bond-style zodiacs. A mere five-minute trip to a rocky cliff side and we were dropped off with our gear.

Excitement coursed through our veins, warming our otherwise freezing extremities. The morning was alarmingly beautiful—with sun and mountain peaks revealing themselves with every clearing cloud. With our crampons on, muck boots secured to the cliffside, and everyone roped up, we began our assent up Canessa Point. With ice picks in hand, two groups of seven hiked up the snow covered peak, stopping only occasionally to take in the unbelievable view. We came across beautiful, but dangerous, ice-blue crevasses. We gaped at the glaciers, the MV Ortelius in the distance, and the seemingly never-ending snow-capped mountains. We made it to the top with surprising speed and relished the workout that got us there and the view it rewarded.

Where I had previously thought kayaking would be the highlight activity, mountaineering had silently and effectively stolen its glory. I enjoyed the relative solitude it provided. I loved the challenge it provided. I relished the risk and reward it provided. It was a great first step on continental land.

[Mal, Myself]

After 7^th Continent photos and ringing in Stephen (2)’s birthday, we swiftly made our way back down, de-cramponed, pried off the much-too-small mountaineering boots, and made our way back in the zodiac with our muck boots on. By lunch I was famished, and I found myself eating more in one meal than perhaps I ever had. After shoveling in food and complaining about over-eating, it was time to put on my bikini—painful irony.

The second zodiac of the day was a thirty-minute ride to Stony Peak and was meant to be a small hike and the polar plunge! I was really looking forward to the polar plunge. The trip had taken a lot of money, a lot of time, and a lot of determination to make happen and I planned to experience the good, the bad, and the freezing.

We made the quick ten-minute hike up Stony Peak and enjoyed the flat peak with a view of glaciers, mountains, and churning water. We gave my camera a workout as we took photos of our group of friends, ladies photos, guy photos, Convoy photos, and even snapped a few with the American flag in them (in case we needed to claim land in the name of America).

[Steven, Patrick, Trey, Stephen (2), David,

Myself, Lauren, Brittany]

[Brittany, Myself, Steven, Patrick, Trey, 

Stephen (2), David, Lauren]

[Patrick, Myself, David, Lauren, Brittany, 

Trey, Steven]

We made our way back down and to our delight a Weddell seal was lazing about in the snow. Unfortunately, the churning water and winds had picked up and in a last second switch, the polar plunge was cancelled. 

Dinner was a special treat as we grilled out and ate dinner on the heli-pad. The view was spectacular, but the chilly winds eventually drew us all back into the warmth of the bar. We enjoyed card games as the busy day came to an end much too quickly.

March 13, 2019

It felt wonderful to wake up and not have any morning activities. We were super excited to venture out on the zodiac this morning. We had a wonderful cruise through the iceberg graveyard with Lauren, Brittany, Trey, Steven, Patrick, Stephen (2), Adrian, Beck, and Bill, a seventy-five-year-old Scottish cartoonist, as our guide. The graveyard was not only full of icebergs, but magnificent seals every where we looked! We saw Weddell seals and Crabeater seals galore—all sunning themselves on the ice and enjoying a beautiful morning. The water underneath the icebergs was a vibrant baby blue and we could see how tides had affected their shape.

The morning would go down as one of the best on the twelve day trip. It had all the makings of a good memory—sunlight, unimaginable landscapes, inviting conversation, clever humor, up-close experiences with wildlife, and fleeting moments of eye contact that seemed to say more than any travel journal could capture.

The afternoon was a two-point stop, with Wordie House on Winter Island being the first of the two. Wordie House was named after the chief scientist on Ernest Shackleton’s 1914-1917 expedition and has been closed since 1954. Wordie House now serves as a tourable shack museum.

The second stop was Vernadsky Station, a research station on Winter Island’s neighboring island, Galindez Island. Vernadsky serves as a Ukrainian base complete with polar divers, PhD’s, and a post office! Lauren and I picked our way through the post cards and set up camp on a small wooden table in their vodka-heavy bar. Our hands began to cramp as we wrote countless stories of the unimaginable Anatarctic to our loved ones back in the States.

Steven, Stephen (2), and Patrick joined us from their kayaking adventure and we did a quick taste test before bidding goodbye to the Ukrainian team. Penguins waddled outside in the snow and the zodiac back made for brief, private conversations as the snow prevented anything more.

[Lauren, Myself, Stephen (2), Steven, Patrick]

After dinner we layered up in our thickest gear prepared to camp on the glorious white continent. We waited in the heli-hanger for twenty-minutes, crossing our fingers for the weather to cooperate. Alas the word came back that weather would prevent us from being able to camp. While some were relieved that we would not be camping in the snow, sleet, and winds, I worried that the opportunity to camp may not come again.

In an effort to distract from the bad news, we decided on a movie night with the guys. Seven people in a four-person cabin—living in a studio in New York really does prepare you for anything, even Antarctica. With a fifth twin mattress in tow, the guys set up movie night in our room. With a clean room and being in our pajamas, the ladies had felt prepared for this, possibly even looking forward to this. Ten minutes into the movie we realized the terrible, nearly fatal misstep we had made—we had let them select the movie. We had mistakenly assumed that four intellectual and talented men of this caliber could be trusted to make a seemingly easy decision. We were WRONG. Brain cells were lost for nearly sixty minutes of suffering when a white flag was finally waved. Three more hours of aliens, idiots, and wizards with terribly dark eyebrows was more than we could take. The guys retreated to their room and the women tried to gain back time that could never be recovered again.

March 14, 2019

Breakfast this morning consisted largely of pancakes and boiled eggs and we enjoyed a roommates breakfast with the four of us picking our way through the buffet.

The weather continued to turn bad, as snow covered the boat deck and visibility declined drastically. Thankfully we were still able to do a split zodiac landing, with passengers rotating between Port Lockroy, an old British base, turned museum and post office, and Jougla Point.

Declining weather and exhaustion from recent days activities kept several passengers on the ship. I drug Lauren out of the room, reminding her of the money we had spent and time that seemed to be evaporating on the ship. In hindsight, we should have also done Brittany, who wasn’t feeling well, the same favor.

Port Lockeroy was picturesque, with snow falling down on a beautiful landscape and penguins waddling everywhere you looked, but in truth, for me, it paled in comparison to what I didn’t know was coming next.

In our two minute zodiac from Lockeroy to Jougla Point, came pure animalistic destruction! It was the reason I had been drawn to Antarctica—the apex predators. A stunning, female leopard seal only a few meters away was making a fantastic showing of cleverly, and speedily, ripping penguins from the shoreline and demolishing them! A celebrity in her own show, she snatched over eight penguins. Using her reptilian head and razor-sharp teeth, she ferociously worked to tear the penguins inside out in search of the meat, leaving only a feathered carcass and bright orange beak in her wake. The speed and agility; the rawness of the act was unforgettable. Kayakers had a front row seat as cameras clicked and passengers watched totally awestruck.

I imagine with time the different landing sites will become hazy. I will have forgotten how the freezing cold smacks your face or the silent prayers you whisper in hopes that your activities will not be cancelled, but the leopard seal in all her prowess, power, destruction, and glory will not be forgotten.

Jougla Point had gigantic whale bones, but I couldn’t help but silently smile at Pippa and stare out over the water, patiently waiting for the next animal sighting.

For dinner we dined with the guys. We spoke about highlights of the trip and the next travel items on our bucketlists—I’d like to hike Kilimanjaro or dive with the killer whales in Norway, and Brittany had proposed a ladies trip to Portugal, Morocco, and Spain.

As we feared, camping was cancelled, meaning I would not get to camp on Antarctica (this time around). Post dinner was cards and conversation and the telling and retelling of the glorious leopard seal and all her might.

March 15, 2019

It was hard to believe that our last half-day in Antarctica had already arrived. After all excursions, including zodiacking, kayaking, and camping, were cancelled we feared the worst—that we wouldn’t be stepping foot back on Antarctica.

In a fortunate turn of events, the crew was able to get us to safe weather for one last landing. We were scheduled for an early breakfast in hopes of getting on land before the weather turned on us. Breakfast was served at 7 AM and consisted of bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast.

Our final stop Deception Island: a ring of volcanos and a former Chilean base and whaling station. The beaches were black volcanic rock. It was spitting down rain, and there were dozens of territorial fur seals. We took photos and walked the black sand with the guys. We were swimsuit ready for the polar plunge, but with a quick shift in weather, that got cancelled, meaning that I wouldn’t be doing the polar plunge in Antarctica (on this trip).

Waves of emotion began to wash over me and I took a few final minutes at the landing to be alone. Standing there I gazed out at the snow-covered mountains. Sleet and rain continued to spit down. I thought about all the challenges that had been put in my path and all the good fortune that had come my way. I thought about God and stars aligning and all the seemingly unimportant things that had to fall into place perfectly for this trip, with these people, on these dates. I thought about my parents aging, and my nieces growing up too quickly, and how proud I am of my sister and brother and the lives they’ve made in Indiana and Louisiana. I thought about my life in New York. I thought about my grandmother and how she would follow my global adventures through postcards and eventually the internet while she was still living. And I knew that she was right there with me, seeing the last and final continent in all its magnificence.

[South America, North America, Europe, Africa,

Asia, Australia, ANTARCTICA]

I got one of the last zodiacs off the island, savoring a few more minutes of what would soon become a memory. If people noticed the tears streaming down my cheeks, they didn’t say anything.

Lunch was pork belly, salad, and soup. After lunch, we played rummy (did I mention it was my grandmother and grandfather who had taught me how to play?). Anna, Patrick, Steven, Lauren, Beck, and I played to five-hundred, giving Patrick a hard time along the way.

Dinner was venison stew, risotto, and crème brulee. The mood was largely melancholy as we set sail back for Argentina.

March 16, 2019

The day consisted largely of cards, broken up by a great presentation by Iain on wintering in Antarctica at Rothera Station. His presentation was filled with memories of his time there—camping, skiing, Christmas, losing parents, broken ankles, snow storms, and shoveling (lots of shoveling).

The girls watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding and we dined with the guys again for dinner before a few more rounds of cards.

March 17, 2019

The day was spent largely writing this. Our lifevests and muck boots were returned to the lecture room. Emotions ran high.

Michael gave a presentation on sea ice and climate change, citing interesting facts, but keeping the presentation short and to the point.

[Michael, Myself, Bill]

That evening I made a special request to Siggy, who was kind enough to pull seven chairs around a six-person dining table. It was our first and last dinner with all four guys and all three girls together. I did my best, unsuccessfully, to stay emotionless and lighthearted. Numbers and social media accounts were exchanged before we made our last and final appearance at the Krill ‘Em All bar upstairs.

The night was a whirlwind, as good things tend to be. Hilarity ensued as we worked our way through various card games we had learned on the ship and loved. [Steven, I think it’s your turn to start. Brittany, you can quit licking that cup. Patrick, I still haven’t figured out the snake hiss thing—was it a snake? Trey, you can stop kissing Patrick on the cheek. Stephen (2), I can still hear you shouting Emilio. Lauren, please continue to point to things with your booty for full effect.]

I realized too late that there were still some people I wanted long conversations with; people I wanted to know or to know me. We closed down the bar and in the blink of an eye this trip of a lifetime was coming to an end.  

March 18, 2019

Getting off the boat that morning was heartache. Never would I be on this ship again, with these exact same people, at this exact point in their lives, without the distraction of internet and cell phones and real-world obligations. I attempted to disguise my emotions with tiredness, but every time someone hugged me, I felt myself collapsing into them and wanting to hold on to that moment indefinitely. Michael, Mal, and Pippa were the last lined up outside of the ship, and I found myself hugging Michael twice glassy-eyed, trying to remember to breathe as I hugged Mal, and not wanting to let go of Pippa.

Thank God for two parents who pushed me every day. Thank God for their gift of roots and wings. Thank God for unexpected friends in tiny cabins. Thank God for Antarctica.

Now back to conquering New York.

Q/A:

Did you bring me a penguin back in your suitcase?

Yes, I brought back several dozen penguins that unfortunately enjoyed the warm weather in Colombia and decided to stay there when I left for New York.

Was there alcohol?

There may have been a bottle of wine or champagne, but I cannot be sure of it.

Can I steal some of your pictures for my next Instagram post?

Yes, please feel free to take any of my photos and claim them as  your own. If you’re someone who is stealing my photos and have not been to Antarctica, please go to Antarctica, as well as help yourself to my photos. What’s mine is yours.

Did you see any whales?

Yes, we saw several humpback whales, but I did not see them right next to my zodiac (others did). Others also saw a minke whale in Orne Harbor. To my chagrin, no killer whales were seen. [I did hear about a trip in Norway to dive with the killer whales, so you can guess what my next trip looks like.]

What was the most amazing thing about the trip so far?

Animal: LEOPARD SEAL DEMOLISHING PENGUINS!

Landscape: Canessa Point overlooking the water, glaciers, and mountains

The Truth: The people; It is always, always, always the people that make a trip

Why do you write so many postcards?

Little and unexpected things like a handwritten postcard seem to bring a lot of joy. I now try to get a mailing address any time I add a contact to my iphone, that way I can surprise them with a postcard instead of giving away the surprise by asking for a mailing address. 

Will you go to Antarctica again?

Without question, I’ll be back to Antarctica. I want to do the Arctic now and diving with the killer whales in Norway before I head back to Antarctica. Also, hit the lottery.