Two hundred and ninety-nine days to go. That is what my Silversea account displayed when I logged in for the first time after P and I had boldly booked our expedition to Antarctica.
Did I say Antarctica? Aah, that is not the name we were going by at this stage. For over 10 months, this trip was our best kept secret, and during this time, we referred to it by anything but its real name. We called it That Which Must Not Be Named, or when we were feeling particularly audacious, Voldemort. We even organized our laptop folders under the name “Gaby” (our Silversea cruise consultant for all questions about the expedition, who left no stone unturned to resolve all our queries promptly).
Why this juvenile secrecy, you ask? Because we had seen enough YouTube videos and read enough articles to know that stepping foot on Antarctica is not a piece of cake (even if you have booked the trip 10+ months in advance!). The weather is unpredictable, the dark and sordid tales of the Drake are hard to ignore for anyone who has done even the tiniest bit of research on Antarctica. Ships have often failed to depart from Ushuaia, Argentina, or Puerto Williams, Chile (the two hubs of Antarctic expeditions). Some have set sail only to turn back, unable to cross the treacherous Drake Passage. Others have made it to Antarctica but failed to land due to wind, ice, or sea conditions.
During our Captain’s Welcome on the second day of our expedition, our Captain Andriy Domanin said, “You bring the weather, I’ll take you places.” And boy, did we bring the weather! And true to his promise, Captain took us to places we never thought we would ever be fortunate enough to experience up close. But I’m going on a tangent here. Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?
“Antarctica is the place where nature has the last word.”
Day 1: Friday, November 29
Alarms went off simultaneously in what seemed like every room on the 6th floor of the W Hotel, Santiago de Chile — including mine. But I didn’t need one as I was lying wide open, unable to sleep the entire night. Jetlag? Excitement? You decide.
We had been in Santiago for five days, soaking in the city, immersing ourselves in the history of Plaza de Armas, wandering through the idyllic Las Condes neighborhood, marveling at the stunning balconies and terraces of the city’s high-rises, and stuffing our faces with delectable Peruvian and Chilean cuisine. But today was the day we were to set sail from Puerto Williams toward the Antarctic Peninsula. It was 4:30 a.m., and we were told breakfast would be at 5:30, followed by a 6:20 a.m. assembly downstairs for the bus that would take us to the airport.
I took a quick shower and called home, unsure whether there would be Wi-Fi on board, before heading down for breakfast. As I was helping myself to bread rolls and deli meat, an Indian lady approached me. She introduced herself as R from Chennai, traveling with her husband. We hit off immediately, and by the time we parted ways 10 days later, it felt as though we were saying goodbye to family.
As scheduled, the 6:20 a.m. bus took us to Santiago airport, where we met R’s husband, D. After some wait, as everyone from the hotel arrived, we boarded our first flight to Punta Arenas, which would take four hours. From there, we transferred to a charter flight with Antarctic Airways, a 45-minute hop to Puerto Williams. The word “Antarctic” had made its first appearance on the body of the aircraft, and the excitement was palpable among the passengers. Many of us took a moment to snap a photo or two in front of what would likely be the most unique flight of our lives.
At Puerto Williams, which had the smallest airport I’ve ever been to, a bus took us to the port where we first glimpsed the majestic Silversea Silver Cloud waiting for us. As we climbed the stairs and boarded the ship, all of its 220 crew members lined up to greet us. We handed over our passports, received our room key cards, all the while helping ourselves to a glass of champagne.
Once the embarkation formalities were over, we made way to our room, where we found waiting for us two bright red Silversea parkas, two Silversea backpacks, and two water bottles. The room was more than spacious for two people, featuring an extremely comfortable king bed, a sofa, a center table, a television, a bathroom with shower, and a walk-in closet.
Our first task was to watch the safety briefing on the TV before heading over to Panorama Lounge, our muster station, on the eighth floor. This lounge, with its sweeping views overlooking the deck, would quickly become our favorite spot on the ship.
P and I then took a quick tour of the ship, navigating our way from the main deck to the pool deck, taking the stairs up to the jogging track on the 9th floor, crossing the zodiac station, and finally reaching the Observation Lounge — an ideal place to relax while waiting to spot wildlife.
That night, we dined at The Restaurant, one of the ship’s four restaurants and two bars, and then went up to the Panorama Lounge, helping ourselves to coffee and a French Martini while watching the ship pull away from the docks, gradually drifting farther and farther from land until it was no longer in sight.
“The Drake Passage tests your resolve, but the promise of what lies beyond makes every wave worth it.”
Image courtesy: Pranjal Mallick
Day 2: Saturday, November 30
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
I was determined to not wake up, refusing to give in to the persistent noise throbbing against my ears for nearly an hour now. My goal was to hit the sack before the ship hit the turbulent waters of the Drake, and even though I managed to drift off, this awful metallic sound kept waking me up.
Known for its unpredictable and treacherous waters, the Drake Passage is a stretch of ocean between South America and the Antarctic Peninsula, where the convergence of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans creates powerful winds and waves. Despite its reputation for rough seas, crossing the Drake offers a sense of adventure and anticipation. Navigating the Drake Passage is an unforgettable experience, often described as a rite of passage for those traveling to Antarctica — a reminder that adventure is often found in the most challenging places. The Drake Passage is where the sea tests your courage, but it’s also where the beauty of Antarctica begins to whisper in the wind.
By this time, the waves were getting rougher and crashing against the ship, and my stomach began to churn as the ship rocked its way along the Drake Passage. Realizing that sleep will now remain elusive, I got up at 2:30 am to track down the source of the noise. After some investigation, I found it was coming from the closet where the door of the safety vault kept slamming against the box. I conjured up a random code and locked it, hoping I would remember it in the morning.
Wide awake now and having not slept well the previous few nights, I desperately needed a good rest before the onshore activities began. So, I took a Dramamine — not for seasickness, but in the hope that it would lull me to drowsiness.
I woke up around 7:30 am, and immediately rushed to the window to capture the mighty waves of the Drake. But lo and behold, all I could see were very calm, rolling waves that rocked the ship gently. That is not to say we did not keep losing our balance and tumbling from side to side, but it was a far cry from the horror stories that we’ve heard. Were we getting lucky? Maybe it was too soon to tell.
Image courtesy: Pranjal Mallick
Today was our first full day at sea, and plenty of onboard activities were scheduled to keep us busy. First up: breakfast of champions, where we were joined by our friends from Chennai. Afterward, we exchanged our parkas and waterproof boots for different sizes. We first took our parkas to the Explorer Lounge on the sixth floor (the auditorium-like venue where we would assemble at least once every day — for our evening recap and briefings — as well as for any other enrichment lecture). Both P and I needed to size down. From here we went to the mudroom on the 3rd floor where I sized down in my shoes while P sized up. The mudroom is undoubtedly one of the most important places in the ship as it is from here that all excursions launch and end, and over the next one week, it would become the place where we would keep coming back to four times a day!
At 11:30 a.m., we assembled at the Explorer Lounge for the first introduction with our expedition leader, Peter, and his incredible crew. Peter gave us a voyage overview, explained to us how excursions would work (more on that later), and gave a quick lowdown on zodiacs and how to use them. This was followed by a kayak safety briefing by Maurice, the lead kayak expert.
Having slept for barely four hours, I was almost dozing off at this point. And so, I decided to skip lunch and head for a long nap instead.
The first evening on the ship marked the Captain’s Welcome, and as we poured in the Explorer Lounge for the third time in the day and made ourselves comfortable with a Cosmopolitan, Nicole, our entertainment host called upon Captain Andriy Domanin and the heads of other departments. Captain assured us that we were making good progress and by afternoon the next day, we should find ourselves at the South Shetland Islands! We toasted to what we hoped would be an incredible voyage and filed out of the auditorium.
P and I dined at La Terrezza that night (which offers buffet breakfast and lunch, but becomes an Italian sit-down restaurant for dinner), followed by a nightcap at the Panorama Lounge before calling it a day.
“In the vastness of Antarctica, you realize how insignificant you are in the grand scheme of the universe. But in that realization, you also find a sense of peace.”
Image courtesy: Pranjal Mallick
Day 3: Sunday, December 1
Did you know that when you are on Antarctic soil (or rather snow!), only three things can touch the ground? The sole of your shoes, the tips of your hiking poles, and the tips of your tripod. That’s it. No resting your bag on the ground while you fish for your stuff, no kneeling on the snow to take a picture, no making snowballs and throwing them at each other, no rolling on the snow, and certainly no touching the penguins!
With this in mind, every single gear we intended to carry for our landings — anything that would be exposed to the elements — needed to be disinfected. This included our jackets, waterproof pants and boots, hiking poles, backpacks etc. So, the first agenda of the day, right after breakfast, was to line up at the Explorer Lounge to ensure that any impurities on our gear were eliminated.
Today, we were scheduled for our first landing at Whalers Bay, Deception Island, in the South Shetland Islands. But before diving into the details of each anchorage and excursion, let me explain how things worked.
For the next six days, we would aim for two excursions daily: one in the morning and one in the afternoon. These excursions could either be a landing or a zodiac cruise. During a landing, a zodiac (a small inflatable rubber boat) would transport us from the ship to shore, where we could step foot on the Antarctic continent and hike a designated trail marked by the expedition team. These landings often offered opportunities to see wildlife and experience the untouched landscape up close.
A zodiac cruise, on the other hand, allowed us to explore the surrounding waters in these small boats. Zodiacs are incredibly versatile, able to navigate through ice, fjords, and narrow channels, bringing us closer to wildlife, glaciers, and icebergs — providing a unique way to experience the raw beauty of Antarctica, places inaccessible to larger vessels.
A third activity, kayaking, was also available every day, but to participate, we had to skip one of the scheduled excursions. Guided by Maurice, the kayaking trips let us paddle through icy channels, glide alongside glaciers, or weave between icebergs, offering a completely unique view of the Antarctic landscape.
Each evening, during the recap and briefing, we’d receive the potential itinerary for the next day. Additionally, every night, we received the Daily Chronicle in our rooms, which outlined the following day’s agenda in detail. The ship would typically arrive at a new anchorage by 7:00 a.m. Within the next 30 minutes, the expedition crew would head to shore in a zodiac to assess the safety of the site. They would clear ice and slush to prepare the landing area and mark a hiking trail with red flags to guide us.
The 204 passengers aboard were divided into six zodiac groups of 34 (we were in Group 4). Starting at 7:30 a.m., zodiac groups would be called one by one to the mudroom. Since only 100 people could land at a site at once, three groups would go first, and once they returned after about 90–100 minutes, the remaining groups would disembark. Dressed in layers, secured by our 3-in-1 red parkas (featuring a puffer layer, fleece layer, and waterproof outer shell), and life vests, we would head to the mudroom when called, where we’d put on our waterproof boots before boarding the zodiacs for the landing, and once back, would disinfect our boots and hiking poles before heading back to our rooms.
Image courtesy: Pranjal Mallick
All the passengers were brimming with excitement as we neared our first landing. Around 12:30 p.m., the ship slowly approached the rugged coastline, the silhouette of snow-capped peaks emerging from the horizon — their stark beauty a sharp contrast against the deep blue of the surrounding sea. Many of us gathered on the deck to witness this long-awaited sight. It was a thrilling reminder that we had crossed the Drake Passage and were now on the brink of exploring one of the most remote and pristine regions on earth.
By 1:30 p.m., the ship had anchored, and zodiac operations began in full swing. Groups 1-3 were quickly whisked to shore, while we waited anxiously for our turn.
Image courtesy: Pranjal Mallick
Image courtesy: Pranjal Mallick
Landing at Whalers Bay, Deception Island, our first stop before heading to the Antarctic Peninsula, was exhilarating. The island, a volcanic caldera, greeted us with its striking landscape — black sand beaches, rugged cliffs, and the haunting remnants of an old whaling station and hanger.
Stepping off the zodiac and onto the volcanic sand, we were immediately struck by the raw beauty of the place. The whaling station, now a ghostly relic of the past, stood frozen in time, with rusted buildings and decaying equipment. We followed Marzena, our guide for the day, while Mitya and Sam shared the history of the whaling station and the hanger.
During our briefing, we were told to maintain a 15-meter distance from wildlife, but I suppose no one told that to the penguins. As I walked along the beach, a curious Gentoo waddled right next to me, adding to my sense of wonder. After a few moments, it hopped into the sea and swam away.
As we boarded the zodiac to return to the ship, I felt as though I was leaving another world — a place so remote, untouched, and rich with history, that witnessing it firsthand felt like a privilege beyond measure.
“To stand on the frozen shores of Antarctica is to experience silence in its purest form. It is a place that humbles you and makes you feel small, yet deeply connected to the earth.”
Follow along my Antarctic adventures with Part 2 and Part 3, where we go on nine excursions, encounter the titular penguins, icebergs, and glaciers, watch some majestic humpback whales, and also make some extremely questionable life choices in the form of jumping into the subzero waters of the Antarctic ocean (otherwise known as Polar Plunge)!