Uncover the wonders of Antarctica: an extraordinary destination of stunning natural beauty and adventure.
From the gnarled and frostbitten climbers who dare to summit Mount Everest to the billionaires hell-bent on heading into space, humans have long experienced the urge to cross grand accomplishments off their bucket lists, even when they are supremely uncomfortable.
Checking all seven continents off your must-see list is a hot ticket item for most seasoned travelers. Like persevering through blisters on the Pacific Crest Trail or caged scuba diving with great white sharks, the Antarctic travelers of yesteryear once had to subvert their creature comforts for the privilege of witnessing the south’s massive peaks and glaciers. They’d have to board crammed, aging research vessels if they so much as dreamed of setting foot on The Great White Continent. Fortunately, thanks to two new expedition ships (the Venture and the Pursuit) by luxury cruise purveyor, Seabourn, adventurers can travel to the southernmost landmass in elegance and style.
My journey aboard the all-new Seabourn Venture started at the ends of the earth, in Ushuaia. A favorite among shoestring budget backpackers and Patagonian trekkers hoping to spot penguins near the mainland, Ushuaia is part Argentinian mountain town, part cruise ship terminal. After boarding the Venture and checking into our spacious veranda stateroom (Seabourn boasts a fleet of roomy, all-suite ships that are perfect for couples who like to sprawl out), we discovered the ship’s “secret” hot tubs on deck eight, which would soon become our favorite post-excursion hangout. Soaked and satisfied, we changed and settled into the vessel’s posh, lower-level dining room for a truly fabulous first dinner.

Seabourn Antarctica Land Excursion
Like Seabourn’s more-luxurious-than-most other ships, the Venture can hold a sizeable yet intimate 264 passengers and boasts a variety of dining options, ranging from a chic sushi lounge on deck six, complete with live music in the evenings, to The Colonnade, which offers more casual world cuisine, to the creatively-named The Restaurant, where guests can experience fine dining on the high seas. Food, drinks, and a stellar wine and cocktail list are all included. My partner, Itai, and I wanted to go big for our first night on board, so we gussied ourselves up and dined at The Restaurant, supping on seared scallops, al dente linguini, and petit fours. The sun set at a surreal 1 A.M., and I was out cold long before the waves beyond my window went dark.
One of the most notorious parts of any expedition to Antarctica (with good reason) is the Drake Passage, the turbulent stretch of sea between Chile’s Cape Horn and the South Shetland Islands, near the Antarctic Peninsula. It’s where the Atlantic, Pacific, and Southern Oceans meet, which can cause fifty-foot seas that’ll make your ship look like a toy boat in a bathtub if your group isn’t blessed with idyllic weather. As for our sailing? It wasn’t quite a “Drake lake,” but the six to eight foot waves we encountered made for relatively smooth cruising, the perfect excuse to enjoy some of the ship’s onboard science lectures.
A key difference between an ordinary cruise ship and an expedition ship is that, rather than hosting elaborate theater shows in the evenings, an expedition ship will likely house a theater with a series of engaging, informative lectures about the history, flora, and fauna of the site you are about to visit.

Seabourn Venture (Photo by Seabourn)
There are also song and dance numbers after dinner, sure, but they aren’t the main attraction in Seabourn Venture’s Discovery Center. After an IAATO (International Association of Antarctic Tour Operators) briefing that detailed necessary safety and biohazard precautions for visiting the highly-protected Antarctic continent and its animal inhabitants, Itai and I watched in awe as one of the ship’s expedition team members, Victoria, detailed the legendary journey of explorer Ernest Shackleton. For those of you who aren’t total nerds for Antarctic history (don’t worry, I wasn’t either before this trip), Shackleton is easily the most famous captain ever to sail to the Great White Continent, namely because, after abandoning a ship that was locked in sea ice and leaving his men stranded for four months on Elephant Island, he returned, miraculously, with a Chilean ship and rescued all of his men.
So, you can imagine my sheer glee when the Venture arrived in Antarctic waters a half day earlier than expected, the crew announcing over the PA system that we were approaching Elephant Island and would be making a surprise extra Zodiac tour. That’s right, instead of five days of Antarctic exploration we would have six. Itai and I ran to our room’s veranda to look at the view and were met by a formidable series of dark peaks wrapped in rime ice. Far below us, small penguins were porpoising themselves out of the water, leaping up here and there like tiny torpedoes.

Emily with Antarctic Penguin Colony (Photo by Emily Pennington)
The waves were choppy as I boarded the burly, inflatable Zodiac, and a light snow began to fall as the wind whipped my hair around my face and turned my cheeks bright pink. It was astonishing to me that Shackleton’s men were able to survive sleeping under their lifeboats in such frigid conditions for many months. As we floated around in the whitecaps, our team leader pointed out a colony of chinstrap penguins and a rogue elephant seal lounging on the rocks, just below a sculpted bust of the Chilean captain who helped Shackleton recover his men. Before we returned to the ship, a large leopard seal swirled around our boat in the water, scoping us out.
It was a tremendous start to a trip that I already expected to be utterly mind-bending. As my days aboard the Venture continued on, it started to dawn on me that Antarctica was unlike anywhere I had ever been before, and that’s coming from a gal who’s mountain biked around the Svalbard archipelago and backpacked off-trail above the Arctic Circle. It was more foreign than familiar. More Neptune than nature. A trip to Antarctica is like a trip to another planet altogether.
Our first planned day on the southernmost continent began with warm (31 degrees Fahrenheit), sunny weather and a striking view of Hope Bay with its many craggy mountains. After gorging myself on a room service breakfast of eggs and Swedish pancakes, I boarded a Zodiac with the Venture’s unlikely penguin expert, a broad shouldered Montanan named Toby. We motored around the saltwater, snapping photos of tuxedoed Adélie penguins and marveling at the brilliant red research buildings of Esperanza Station.

Zodiac Excursion
One of the most notorious parts of any expedition to Antarctica is the Drake Passage, the turbulent stretch of sea between Chile’s Cape Horn and the South Shetland Islands, near the Antarctic Peninsula. It’s where the Atlantic, Pacific, and Southern Oceans meet.
Next up? A submarine voyage to the bottom of the freezing ocean. One of the more expensive offerings aboard many big brands’ cruise ships, submersibles have become a hot commodity in recent years. Most take place in the Caribbean, providing a scuba diving-adjacent experience for guests, without the hassle of learning to dive (or squeeze into a wetsuit). Seabourn has upped the ante and, when traveling on the Venture, guests can book (for a fee of a thousand dollars) a one-hour Antarctic submarine trip into the icy waters that’s sure to make their friends back home jealous.

Seabourn Submarine in Antarctica (Photo by Emily Pennington)
It’s here that my spacey daydreams really took flight, because, as I stepped into the small, round vessel, I was transported to another universe entirely, one where bubble-shaped windows unveiled views of a vast, blue void. Once the sub’s operator and our six passengers had boarded and it stop opening was screwed tight, our group descended roughly 90 meters until a bizarre carpet of pink brittle sea stars came into view. We hovered like some futuristic space ship contraption, then slowly traversed the depths, expectant and delirious with excitement. Every single person in the submarine’s mouths were agape for the full hour, as we motored past neon sponges and the occasional huge starfish down below.
My mind completely blown and put back together before lunchtime, I returned to the ship to meet up with Itai, throw on my electric orange Seabourn parka, and hop aboard yet another Zodiac to officially step foot on my seventh continent at Brown Bluff. This was also my first up close and personal encounter with penguins, and Itai and I could scarcely take three steps without a small, waddling bird crossing our path. An enormous rookery of Adélie penguins sat on the far side of the landing site, with moms and dads feeding their mouthy chicks. “Nice to meet you!” We greeted them as we strolled along the shoreline. “Will you please be my best friend?”
Alas, life is not always penguins and sunshine on the Antarctic Peninsula, and just as we were settling in to the afternoon show, a hungry, brown skua soared across the sky and nabbed one of the chicks, gobbling it in front of our eyes. My assumed, cinematic rule that the cutest, cuddliest shall survive and triumph seemed null here. “Nature is harsh, but it’s never cruel,” a guest would later tell me aboard the ship.
The more time I spent in Antarctica, the more it truly seemed like an alien landscape in which the ordinary rules did not apply. Think about it: the birds waddle around on land and then soar underwater, Weddell seals flop around on the shores like blubbery, graceless puppies, and the largest mammals, whales, are entirely sea-bound. Add to that the fact that the climate is practically free of plant life, and 32 degrees is considered a warm summer day, and you’ll see why my body and mind were completely topsy turvy for the entirety of the sailing.

Kayaking Excursion (Photo by Emily Pennington)
Like astronauts, we had to wear special suits and boots on our kayak excursion, partly to prevent invasive species from landing in the highly-sensitive Antarctic landmass, but also because the water is so frigid that a human could only survive in it for a few minutes if someone fell in. Rob, our incredible kayaking guide, had been part of a team of adventurers who sailed for seventeen days from Elephant Island to South Georgia Island, recreating Shackleton’s epic journey using all the same technology. His expert voice shepherded us through the awkward process of squeezing into a fluorescent red dry suit before we disembarked the Venture for our outing.
Though we certainly weren’t about to paddle for days on end to a remote whaling station, our group was gifted a glorious, sunny day, and we floated around amongst large icebergs bobbing around in the water. Here and there, a trio of penguins would surface to check us out, then vanish as quickly as they came.
All of a sudden, we heard a loud “Ppssshhhhh,” and I caught a splash out of the corner of my eye. “Minke whales!” Rob shouted. “They’re probably swimming right under us and going to resurface again.” He was right. Not five minutes later, a duo of spouts erupted from the ocean, followed by the enormous flukes of two minke whales. It was absolutely breathtaking.
With so much natural majesty all around us at all hours, it’s no wonder that sustainable tourism is on the tip of everyone’s tongue when it comes to traveling in Antarctica. Not only does the IAATO board require that all guests wear special, sanitized boots when they go ashore for any landing, they also do sanctioned bio-checks before a ship’s first disembarkation, in which seeds, leaves, and dirt will be vacuumed out of guests’ coat and bag pockets, if necessary.
They also demand that ships pre-book their landing sites along the peninsula and its many islands, to avoid multiple boats arriving at the same place at the same time. According to IAATO regulations, no more than 100 passengers can be outside at a landing site at once; this is why it’s essential to book an Antarctic sailing on a vessel that only has 100-300 passengers, as you’ll be able to get off the ship far more often than on a more populated trip. And, a word to the wise: the 500 (and larger) person ships aren’t even permitted to go ashore.
All of our time in Antarctica was enchanting and otherworldly. A pod of at least ten orcas upended our afternoon plans one day when the captain decided to follow them through the Gerlache Strait so that the entire ship could catch the perfect glimpse and photo opp. We cruised through the Lemaire Channel with perfect weather, chilly and clear, at sunset and watched the sky turn a thousand shades of orange from the Bow Lounge. Daniel Fox, the Venture’s onboard adventure photographer, took a small group of passengers out on a special, photography-centric iceberg outing to snap pictures of the wildly blue frozen sculptures in person. As we meandered through the hulking, frozen masses of ice, I couldn’t help but laugh at their odd yet familiar shapes: a triumphant arch, a great pyramid, and a mouth full of pointed icicle teeth.

Antarctic Landscape (Photo by Emily Pennington)
In a surprise twist, our ship took a turn away from the icy rings of Saturn and towards a volcanic moonscape for our final day, before we braved the Drake Passage once more. Deception Island is a ring-shaped islet with a natural safe harbor at its center, a product of its collapsed volcanic caldera. As a result, ships can enter through the twisted cliffs of Neptune’s Bellows and take part in mellow seaside strolls and kayaking outings, all within range of an oceanic hot spring.
Itai and I were thrilled that our much-feared polar plunge might take place in not-so-frigid waters, and we excitedly boarded the Zodiacs for a brief hike to the top of a chocolate brown hill, freckled with the occasional snowbank. We trekked past badass looking penguins standing stock-still as hot steam rose from the water, and we sauntered by a young Weddell seal as she painstakingly belly flopped her way into the sea for several minutes.
Next up? More kayaking with our favorite guide, Rob. Since the water was exceptionally calm and glassy, Rob allowed us to explore along the shoreline a bit farther than usual, dipping our hands into the steamy caldera water and cracking jokes about how our imaginary album covers will never be as cool as “Stoic Penguins in the Steam.” At one point, Rob had us raft together our small boats, grabbing each other’s paddles as support, and instructed a young gentleman to stand up and do the macarena to wild cheers and applause from the rest of us.

Lemaire Channel Antarctica Sunset
There was nothing left to do but plunge, polar-style. The entirety of the passengers were called back to the Seabourn Venture, and, after a hearty lunch, told to don a bathing suit, a robe, and a thick jacket if they wished to participate. It’s always been my opinion that if you’re going to do the thing, you better dive in head-first, so of course, Itai and I were game.
Unlike other polar plunges I’ve seen in silly Tiktok and Instagram videos, Seabourn let us enter the cold water at our own pace, from shore. To our surprise, it was bathtub-warm right at the water’s edge, and many guests did not elect to go in past their waists. But I wanted the real thing, I decided. I took a deep breath, waded out as far as my feet could touch the chilly bottom, and dove in, swimming several strokes out into the still saltwater. Never one to spoil a good time, Itai followed close behind. I was giddy with the thrill of accomplishment.
To celebrate, we grabbed a table at The Club on deck nine for a fancy dinner of sushi and piano serenades. The entire week had passed in a life-changing blur. After traversing an alien landscape, meeting its strange inhabitants, and soaking my body in Antarctic hot springs, I felt blissed out, discombobulated, and utterly lost on my home planet in the best way possible. Isn’t that what the best trips are all about?