Experiencing incredible ice and calm seas during our cruise to Antarctica with National Geographic-Lindblad Expeditions, a pioneer in responsible exploration.

by Bridget Cottrell

Why would someone who gets seasick while snorkeling endeavor two crossings of one of the most dangerous sea passages in the world?

The answer is simple: love.

At the height of his professional career, my husband spent three-fourths of the year traveling the world. He long wanted to notch the elusive seventh continent, and we decided that, given my decidedly unseaworthy constitution, National Geographic-Lindblad Expeditions (expeditions.com) struck the perfect balance between comfort and adventure.

Lars-Eric Lindblad is credited with creating modern expedition cruising, notably leading the first "citizen travelers" expedition to Antarctica in 1966 and establishing Lindblad Travel, which later became Lindblad Expeditions under the direction of Lars-Eric's son Sven Lindblad and is now known as National Geographic-Lindblad Expeditions. Today, the company remains guided by Lars-Eric's belief that seeing the planet's remote wild places with one's own eyes would spur the onlooker to champion preservation and protection. While the destination had not been on my bucket list, after experiencing it firsthand, I have become almost evangelical in my advocating for others to make the voyage.

Our adventure began in Buenos Aires, where we checked into the 5-star Alvear Palace Hotel and had the first opportunity to size up our travel mates for the next 12 days. We made the acquaintance of two teachers who were named Grosvenor Teacher Fellows, besting hundreds of applicants for the coveted spots. "Music is everywhere, and I am looking to find it in Antarctica," remarked elementary school music teacher Lisa Werner. We also chatted up Dan Westergren, a longtime photo editor for National Geographic Traveler magazine, who would be the onboard photography expert. Having spent time with Sven Lindblad, Westergren said he keeps returning as a consultant because he appreciates the company's commitment to transporting travelers to places where you can take great pictures. In addition to expert advice, the ship keeps an arsenal of Olympus lenses and cameras that guests can borrow for field testing.

Given our limited time in Buenos Aires, we signed on for a city tour to hit the highlights, which included more than one opportunity to belt out "Don't Cry for Me Argentina!" From day one, we experienced and appreciated seamless transitions and the efficiency of the group dynamic.

The following morning's short charter flight to Ushuaia, the capital of Tierra del Fuego, provided a stunning aerial view of the dense beech forest that blanketed Antarctica millions of years ago. A catamaran cruise of the Beagle Channel preceded our boarding of National Geographic Endurance, a 408-foot-long, fully stabilized ship accommodating up to 138 guests. Launched in 2021, Endurance was purpose-built for polar navigation and has a patented X-bow that slices through waves to provide a smooth ride.

Our spacious cabin suite on the main deck boasted a large balcony accommodating two chairs, laundry service, and a premium Wi-Fi connection. After quickly settling in, we headed to the Ice Lounge for our first group talk, which included an overview of the voyage, an introduction to the multinational expedition crew, and scores of tips from the onboard physician for managing nausea.

The credentials of the expedition team were impressive, encompassing degrees and specializations in areas of study I'd never heard of, including maritime archaeology. There was also an expert in excrement and a self-professed "bird nerd." The team's disparate divisions converged in a shared love of the White Continent and a deep desire to educate and inspire anyone who will listen that it's under threat and needs and deserves protection. Seated in a comfy swivel chair in the lounge, surrounded on three sides by tall windows, I felt like we were in the most luxurious classroom on earth.

Armed with a scopolamine patch behind my ear, I anxiously awaited our approach to the Drake Passage, anticipating two days of raucous seas I'd seen on scores of Instagram posts. Ultimately, our crossing was more "Drake's Lake" than "Drake's Shake." Knowing I'd be queasy in either case, I admit to being slightly disappointed to not have earned the credo that comes with experiencing the full wrath of the seas.

During the Antarctic summer, the only time tour operators bring travelers to the continent, the sun is visible 24 hours a day. On the other side of the passage, I was awed to awaken at 3 a.m. to calm seas and a Maxfield Parrish-like light illuminating the icy dreamscape, complete with sculptural chunks of ice displaying hues of blue from turquoise to sapphire. It was the first of many "pinch me" moments in which I could barely believe we were on the same planet.

A faster-than-expected transit of the Drake Passage presented an earlier opportunity to go ashore and encounter our first penguin rookery, which we could smell well before making it to shore via inflatable Zodiac boats. Passengers disembarked in an orderly fashion in assigned groups from the Expedition Deck, where lockers store cold and wet weather gear and help keep cabins clutter-free. An optional rental program can make packing even more effortless, providing all the necessary kit to be comfortable during land and sea outings. The highly pathogenic H5N1 avian influenza virus, commonly known as bird flu, has been detected in birds and seals across the Antarctic Peninsula, posing a significant threat to wildlife and killing thousands of seals in recent years. Great care was taken to disinfect footwear, both coming and going, to help fight the disease's spread.

Seemingly perpetually busy, watching the Adélie penguins waddle along dedicated "highways," sometimes from dizzyingly high perches en route to the sea, was endlessly entertaining despite their pungency. Adélie, Gentoo, and Chinstrap penguins are among the most common species found in Antarctica and spied nearly every day of our journey; a lone pair of majestic Emperor penguins that seemingly appeared from nowhere was heralded with much fanfare during one afternoon's ice hike.

The itinerary was relatively fluid for the five days dedicated to exploring, and the nimbleness allowed for taking advantage of the unexpected, like when Captain Oliver Kruess changed course so that we could sail alongside a pod of Minke whales, a momentous occasion that seemingly brought the entirety of the ship to the bridge to watch the spectacle. "A man without a boat is crippled in my mind," remarked Capt. Kruess during a cocktail-hour presentation. Kruess, who grew up on a German island among a family of mariners "who'd rather have been postmen," has worked on boats all his life with a passion that's never waned.

Between expeditions, there were scores of interesting and diverse presentations, including the anatomy of a snowflake, the lifecycle of krill, the history of polar exploration, and pro tips on maximizing the iPhone camera. While what was above the water was endlessly fascinating, two undersea specialists were on board who provided daily updates supported by incredible footage from their dives highlighting what lies and lives beneath the surface of the frigid water. "Seventy percent of the earth is water, so it would be rude to not share what's going on beneath the ice," said Carlos Garrande, a native of Spain who holds a PhD focused on the history of Azorean whaling and recent changes in the use of whaleboats. All talks and presentations are made available on in-cabin televisions, a boon during my seasick bouts.

On-ship amenities included a large fitness center and yoga studio, a well-stocked library, two restaurants and bars, a spa, a gift shop where I picked up a few pieces of unique jewelry, and ample observation areas with binoculars and telescopes. Two heated glass "igloos" cantilevered over the aft corners of the ship are available to reserve on a first-come, first-served basis, allowing inhabitants to comfortably spend a night admiring the midnight sun in secluded bliss.

With its sleek, Scandinavian-inspired interiors and an abundance of fine art (including dramatic photography by artist-in-residence Eric Guth), the ship experience is akin to staying in a luxury land-based hotel. Hotel director Patrik Svarcmyr's affableness, evidenced by donning Viking attire to deliver spiked hot chocolate to guests while on a Zodiac expedition, undoubtedly inspires the quick camaraderie that develops among passengers.

We enjoyed getting to know people from all over the world during meals and cocktail hour and were pleasantly surprised to encounter far more people under the age of 40 than we anticipated. They were a generous lot, too, with one guest making a sizable donation to HappyWhale, which granted our group naming rights when our expedition discovered a previously unidentified humpback whale, and another guest paying $4.5k in an auction of the ship's ensign to assist with a crew member's unexpected medical bills.

As one would expect, dining was also on par with the luxury hotel experience. The team, led by Executive Chef Sara Henstam and supported by a service staff that operated with precision, provided memorable meals from a global point of view. "In the spirit of exploring, I encourage you to try something new,"" remarked Chef Henstam before Shackleton's Culinary Journey, a six-course private dining experience offered to each guest during the voyage that is inspired by the 1914 adventure of Antarctica's most famous explorer. Prior to a Thanksgiving feast that included no less than a dozen varieties of pie, Chef Henstam said, "I am always trying to make it difficult for guests to choose."

"People come for the penguins and come back for the ice," said expedition leader and award-winning natural history filmmaker Jessie Johnson. Truly, the ice was endlessly fascinating, particularly when it converged with the sea and sky on cloudy days to create an odd sense of spatial disorientation before dissipating to reveal yet another dreamy snow globe scene seemingly stretching to infinity. Chunks of animate ice appeared to have a mind of its own, quickly amassing alongside the moored ship in such quantities one afternoon that it became easy to understand how Shackleton's Endurance was eventually crushed by ice floes. The feeling of awe was similar to what I experienced looking up from the bottom of the Grand Canyon.

Johnson was exceptionally adept at helping people connect with the sublime emotions roused by the environment. She captained a Zodiac cruise that included the opportunity to create an en plein air watercolor and another in which we spent several minutes floating along in silence so that we could absorb the whisper of the wind, appreciate the mesmerizing undulations of the water in the bay unfurling like a silk flag, and commit to memory the pop and crackle of icebergs. This fleeting, treasured moment near the end of the trip was one of my favorites as it created an indelible souvenir that will hopefully persist in my mind's eye for a lifetime.

Stirred, Not Shaken