Clickbait again—but based on what the Chinese tour groups on our ship paid, RMB 120,000, and backing out the round-trip airfare, it really does come out to about RMB 10,000 per day. Heh.

In terms of trip length, Antarctic cruises are actually fairly long. Entry-level itineraries start at 9 days and 8 nights. Slightly longer deep-expedition trips that cross the Antarctic Circle add another night or two, and some itineraries run 17 or 18 days.

My first-ever Antarctica cruise was on Polar Latitude’s Seaventure, a standard Antarctic Peninsula itinerary: 2 days crossing the Drake Passage + 4 days on the Antarctic Peninsula + 1 day in the South Shetland Islands + 1 day and a half heading back.

So during all those days rocking around in the Southern Ocean, what is there to do on the ship?

01 Even on a cruise, you still end up taking classes

I thought this would be a pure veg-out trip. Instead, learning became the main theme.

Crossing the Drake Passage takes at least a day and a half each way. Expedition companies use that time to organize lectures so everyone can learn some basic theory in advance.

The expedition team onboard included PhDs in oceanography, geology, and biology—apparently academic competition got too intense, so they became ship crew instead—and they gave the lectures. Topics included Antarctic geological history, whales and birds of the Southern Ocean, and more. Two American scientists sailing with us also gave a science-pop talk about their research.

Some team members were full-time polar guides, and their job was to tell expedition stories, like leading documentary crews into the Arctic. Public-speaking skills definitely matter: one guy somehow managed to tell me a story about barely surviving an Antarctic blizzard—and put me to sleep in the process.

When passing research stations run by different countries, there’s sometimes a chance to invite station staff onboard to share their experiences. For example, this guy was from the famous British Port Lockroy station, which has since become a heritage museum.

There were even hidden guest stars among the passengers. One Chinese tour leader on board had actually worked with China’s Antarctic research program, overwintered twice at Great Wall Station, and helped build Kunlun Station at Dome A, the highest point in Antarctica. His experience was so legendary that even the expedition staff couldn’t touch it.

Looking at the packed schedule every day, I couldn’t help thinking: if only I’d had this much curiosity back when I was in school.

02 Citizen science projects

Beyond the classroom-style learning, the trip really did offer a chance to relive the old dream of doing research.

Citizen science projects? I call them outsourced research grunt work. There are more and more polar research projects now, but it’s impossible for each one to send dedicated staff all the way down here, so the tens of thousands of tourists who visit every year become the perfect labor force.

Antarctic research mainly focuses on oceanography, glaciology, ornithology, marine biology, and meteorology.

On our ship, the first science task every day was to recruit people to observe clouds: classify the clouds over the surrounding sea by height and shape from the deck, then upload the results to the NASA satellite overhead.

Then came birdwatching: recording the species and number of seabirds following the ship’s wake, helping scientists understand seabird distribution and habitat patterns in the Southern Ocean. And honestly, after a few days, I really did learn to recognize a few kinds of albatross.

Happy Whales is a similar project: you upload photos of whales to the website of the same name. If the match shows it’s a whale never previously identified, you even get to name it.

FjordPhyto plankton research was the only project where I actually knew who I was working for; it studies polar coastal ecosystems.

I sincerely hope the data I worked so hard to collect from 100 meters below the sea surface, along with the water samples, will someday become part of a Nature paper and make a great contribution to ocean conservation, global warming, human survival, and world peace!

03 Landings, Zodiac cruises, and sailing

At the end of the day, people come to Antarctica to set foot on the seventh continent, so landings are the top priority. I even used to treat the number of landings as the single most important metric when comparing cruise prices. When weather prevented a landing during the trip, I’d joke with people around me, “Welp, there goes another $500 today.”

Expedition companies pre-book landing sites before departure. Generally speaking, the two marquee spots—Paradise Bay and Neco Harbour—are usually an either/or choice.

On this trip, Jougla Point and Damoy Point also left a deep impression on us.

Landing experiences do vary by company. I’ve heard that established operators like Quark and G Adventure have more experienced expedition staff and set up more challenging hiking routes, while newer or ultra-luxury operators tend to be more relaxed.

Under IAATO rules, no more than 100 people can go ashore at one time. But cruise ships usually carry 100-200 passengers, so guests are often split into two groups: while one group lands, the other group goes out for a cruise. When the weather is good, sitting out there in the icy sea wind blowing in from the polar region is actually pretty great.

And at certain moments, sailing itself can be an incredible experience. Whale-chasing in the Gerlache Strait, and especially passing through the Lemaire Channel in perfect weather, ended up being the high point of our entire trip. I’d gladly trade 4 overcast landings for that.

Travel in general depends heavily on weather and luck, and nowhere is that more true than Antarctica.

04 The rich get to experience the world first

Every cruise offers paid add-on experiences, most commonly kayaking, stand-up paddleboarding, and camping. Each session costs about $200-$300. And don’t even say that’s expensive—spots still get snapped up fast, or assigned by lottery.

Paddling a small boat through a maze of Antarctic icebergs while humpback whales play right beside you—who can resist that kind of cinematic atmosphere? I haven’t figured it out myself, so go try it and report back.

And then there’s camping. Just imagine it: lying out on snow and ice untouched by human footprints for ages, a brilliant Milky Way overhead—wait, except it’s the polar summer and the sun barely sets, so swap that image for one where the sun dips below the horizon and immediately starts rising again. What’s a Waldorf Astoria or Ritz-Carlton compared with that? How many people can say they spent a night sleeping soundly—or freezing—in Antarctica’s grand hotel?

So much for the saying that the brave get to experience the world first. Clearly, it’s the brave people with money who get there first.

As far as I know, Oceanwide seems to be the only company that included kayaking and camping for free. Sadly, I didn’t manage to sign up.

One more quick note: Wi‑Fi on our ship wasn’t free either, which meant I only dared send my family and friends one message a day: “Alive.”

05 The southernmost, coldest plunge in the world

This activity asks for only one sacrifice: your courage—enough to jump into the icy Antarctic sea.

The Polar Plunge is a classic Antarctica trip tradition. On one bright, calm day, the expedition leader came over the PA system and announced that it was time for the brave-person game to begin. There were far more spectators lining the railings than fools actually willing to throw themselves into a slurry of ice water.

I was one of those fools. I yelled “for China,” forgot all about posture or dignity, and hurled myself into the Antarctic waters. I was too panicked to notice whether the seawater here was saltier or less salty than elsewhere, but at least I stayed true to my personal brand.

The rugged older Western guys, meanwhile, looked impressively professional both in their diving form and in how little splash they made.

In reality, the safety measures were quite solid. In addition to the thick rope around your waist, a fully equipped Zodiac was standing by at all times. Once you got out, there was all the vodka and hot chocolate you could want.

06 What left the deepest impression on you during polar travel?

At the sharing session before the trip ended, the expedition leader asked everyone this question. My answer was: “The incredible life stories of my fellow passengers.”

Meeting all kinds of travelers on board was the most distinctive part of the experience for me. There was a French couple traveling around the world in a small van who turned out to be hugely popular on Instagram; a former Navy SEAL Black gentleman who also happened to be an excellent photographer; and a family traveling together across three generations.

Listening to their travel stories felt like opening one life mystery box after another.

But the real surprise came from the Chinese passengers on board.

I met an elderly woman who had retired from the Institute of Geographic Sciences and Natural Resources Research at the Chinese Academy of Sciences. When she was younger, she joined surveying and mapping expeditions to Tibet five times, and she still energetically participated in every citizen science project. We found a book in the library that said the first Chinese person to take part in Antarctic exploration was XXX. She casually remarked, “That was my colleague at the institute.”

Her husband had previously been a senior official in China’s environmental protection field and had participated in many major treaty negotiations. They worked hard together when they were young, and now travel the world together in old age—a truly enviable couple.

Then there was Mr. Dong, a fellow Zhejiang native. I had assumed he was only in his early forties, but it turned out he was just two years away from retirement... When I asked for his secret to staying youthful, he said, “Always stay curious.”

He and his friends are exactly the kind of people I like best: proactive, hardworking, and full of enthusiasm for life.

Two older brothers from Yantai generously shared decades’ worth of photography wisdom with me.

And quite often, while the Southern Ocean raged outside, I’d be holding a cup of hot coffee and listening to entrepreneurs—leaders in their respective niche fields—tell the story of how they built their businesses.

Or, if I got even luckier, there might be a translator guy on board—at that point, what resistance was even possible?

I believe every cruise ship sailing to Antarctica is a mobile treasure house of stories. Even a total introvert like me couldn’t help but say, “Open sesame.”

Beyond that, if the 10-meter waves of the Drake Passage haven’t knocked you flat, you can try doing yoga on deck facing the icebergs, or make full use of the ship’s gym, sauna, small pool, and other facilities. There were also plenty of other activities on board—charity auctions, crew talent shows, photography competitions—but I won’t go into all of them here.

Before going to Antarctica, I had never been on a cruise. After this trip, honestly, I’ve kind of fallen in love with traveling by ship.

For more about my Antarctica experience, see

About the Author

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