“So, why would you travel so far just to see ice and penguins?” was last year’s question to my long-time friend, Lillian. With a resounding “No!” she replied that Antarctica was so much more—gorgeous scenery, inspiring stories of heroic exploration, and important, modern-day research. By the time she had finished her rebuttal, she had elicited my reluctant promise that I would visit that continent within the near future.

The truth of her comments struck me the first time that our group was called on deck by our expedition leader to watch the surreal play of light on the landscape and icebergs in the water. It was the first of many wondrous experiences that helped us appreciate and understand this little-known, but intriguing expanse of snow, ice and rock.

What Lillian didn’t add was what Antarctica was not: There are no igloos, Inuit (Eskimos), or polar bears (which belong to the northern, or Arctic, regions of the earth). Also, it is not just a place of beauty and inspiration, but a harsh and brutal environment which has rendered it uninhabitable, at least by humans. Only a few species of birds and penguins manage to live there full time.

In fact, there are no indigenous people or even permanent residents in Antarctica at all, except for a few thousand researchers, the majority who live there in the summer months (December through January in the Southern Hemisphere) and small groups of tourists who also visit during that time of year.

How does a lone, female traveler go about planning such a trip to a place best accessible by ship from the tip of South America? With the choice of three general types of travel—converted Russian trawlers; small, comfortable ships with lecturers and adventurous continental landings; or large mega-cruise ships which hold a few thousand passengers and primarily observe Antarctica while cruising—I opted for the middle ground.

After meeting my travel companions in Buenos Aires, Argentina, we flew four-and-a-half hours south to Patagonia near Tierra del Fuego and boarded our ship in Ushuaia, Argentina, the southernmost city of the world. With 100 passengers, 8 naturalists, a crew of 73, and a captain from Finland who was highly experienced in traversing potentially treacherous icy waters, we began our adventure.

The two-day journey by sea to Antarctica provided us with history lessons. Many of the world’s greatest early seafaring explorers, including Ferdinand Magellan (1519), Sir Francis Drake (1578), and Captain Cook (1773) passed through these waters. Following in their wake, we waved goodbye to Cape Horn and entered the infamous Drake Passage (considered the roughest sea passage in the world) for the next 600 miles. In the Antarctic Convergence portion, where icy water mingles with warmer water from the north, we experienced a fog so dense that it appeared to us that there was no visibility at all. Fortunately, we had a moderate crossing on the way down. We would not be so lucky on our return.

But where exactly were we headed? Answer: the Antarctic Peninsula on Antarctica—a continent 1½ times the size of the continental U.S., consisting of 98 percent ice and 2 percent rock, holding 68 percent of the world’s water and known as the coldest, driest desert on earth. It is a place where posted sunset in the summer months is 11:28 p.m. and sunrise 3:23 a.m., although it never really gets dark. In winter, there is little sunlight and temperatures on the mainland at the South Pole may drop to 94 degrees F below zero. No one “owns” Antarctica. It is governed by the Antarctic Treaty, signed by twelve nations in 1961, who agreed to keep the continent “forever used for peaceful purposes.”

Everyone on board enthusiastically anticipated our first landing on the continent by Zodiac rafts, extremely sturdy motorized crafts piloted by our naturalists. We quickly learned the twice-a-day ritual of “gearing up.” In addition to dressing in multiple layers of clothing, boot disinfection was required when going to and from land—and was repeated for the five days that we were in the Antarctic Peninsula. In addition, protective sunglasses and sun block were required. Hiking on the ice was common and each of us had been told to send letters from our physicians saying that we were fit to undertake this trip.

Interesting landings included visiting research stations. In keeping with the Treaty, major research is conducted here, especially studies concerning global warming. In addition, many earth sciences and biomedical sciences are priorities. Because of the hole in the earth’s ozone layer, there is a particular interest in the study of skin cancer. 

During our voyage, we visited two research stations: Vernadsky and Palmer—the former Ukrainian and the latter American—which, like the other Antarctic stations, cooperate with each other. Scientists in both locations seemed happy to see us and were extremely hospitable in showing us around and explaining their studies and also their way of life. Both stations had their own cook.

Palmer Station was an American outpost. The American flag flying, guys wore their baseball hats and talked of looking forward to the Super Bowl game to be beamed down by satellite. Palmer Station is funded by the National Science Foundation. Although the staff is primarily male, it is staffed by female scientists as well. The average age is early- to mid-thirties and many stay all year, enduring the rough winters of darkness and extreme temperatures. Would I volunteer to collect data at a U.S. station? Yes, perhaps for a couple of weeks during the summer!

The story of Antarctica is the story of heroes—of prizes won and lives lost. It is also the story of exploitation in the 1800s during the great age of whaling and sealing, with numbers of some species being permanently reduced. However, the Golden Age of Polar Exploration produced such legends as Ernest Shackleton, who despite losing his ship, The Endurance, which was crushed by pack ice, and being stranded during the winter months, managed to save all his men. His legendary leadership skills are often studied in business schools.

On a less happy note, Robert Scott and his party perished on their disappointing return trek from the South Pole after discovering that they placed second in the race for the Pole, behind Roald Amundsen and his Norwegian colleagues, the first explorers to actually set foot on the geographical South Pole. Scott’s final words were recorded in his diary, found by a search party after the spring thaw: “This shall be my last entry . . .” with his words trailing off as he froze to death. 

Setting foot on Antarctica was truly an exciting experience, and sighting our first penguin rookeries even more so. Like most of our group, I enjoyed the recent penguin movies but gained a new sense of respect and even awe by being privileged to step in their natural environment. They are truly delightful and downright funny at times, whether presenting flat rocks as gifts to their partners, attempting to steal the rocks from other birds’ nests, or trudging single file in their one-way intersecting penguin “highways” as they went about daily business. Rule: Penguins always have the right of way! 

In general, they were oblivious to our presence, which mandated our staying at least 10 feet away from the nesting groups. However, they also demonstrated heightened vigilance whenever the shadow of a predator flew overhead. One explanation of their complacency with us is their history of having no natural enemies on land. Chief predators are leopard seals in the water and sea birds such as the giant skuas which nest above the penguin rookeries.

Lucky for us, it was the time of year for the baby penguins, and one could observe parenting and social skills of the three species of penguins with which we came into contact. However, there was another side to admiring the cuteness of the family units and fuzzy baby chicks. It was difficult to watch films that graphically portrayed death to the animals, but that is the reality of the cruelty of nature and of a harsh environment.

There was no lack of activities on this trip—when outdoors, hiking and photography were popular, while some of the braver souls brought swimsuits to soak in an outdoor thermal pool, found in a caldera or volcanic crater.

On board ship, we were treated to a variety of lectures twice a day, science films including recent PBS productions, and interesting dinner table discussions, especially involving global warming. The verdict: No one really knows for sure, except that it is real and predictions range from the catastrophic to moderate, with everything in between.  However, scientific studies indicate that some penguin colonies are increasing and others decreasing, some of their hunting habits are changing, major ice shelves are demonstrating environmental changes, and specific areas of the sea around the continent are showing regularly increasing yearly temperatures.

In addition to presentation of news from the world of science, there was no shortage of good food prepared by our Greek chef or of culture in many forms. Okay, I admit that I missed the late night screening of Moby Dick and the live recitation of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner with their many references to polar waters, but that’s about it!

Who goes there? The typical Antarctic visitor is well-educated and well-traveled, probably interested in science, global warming, penguins, photography, or perhaps just along for the adventure. With 100 people primarily from the U.S. and U.K., there was no lack of socialization or camaraderie in our group. When returning to reality upon landing in Chicago, we were told that it was nine degrees F outside. Much colder than the average Antarctic temperature of 38, it gave new meaning to the concept of going south for the winter. All in all, this trip was one of the best ever, and truly life-changing as far as understanding the very interesting world we live in—at least, more than before.