Antarctica Travel Blog: Our Journey to the 7th Continent

Published: July 2, 2025

We left our round-the-world motorcycles in Ushuaia after riding the length of the Americas, said bye to our wheels, and crossed the infamous Drake Passage in a violent storm—to finally set foot on the seventh continent. Cold, wild, mesmerising… and easily the best thing we’ve ever done.

This travel blog recounts our trip to Antarctica during our round the world motorcycle ride. To read more stories from our travels check out Our Adventures

Motorcycle Travel Blog Antarctica

By Andy Davidson

Mad or Nomad: Round the World Motorcycle Traveller

Watch our Antarctica video

Before diving into our blog and photography below, have a quick watch of this short film we made first for a little glimpse into the frozen world….

To go or not to go?

I wasn’t going to go. I get terrible seasickness. It hasn’t stopped me doing a lot, we still scuba dive whenever we can, go on boat trips often, sailing with friends, use ferries and so on. I just get hit hard – but it’s manageable because it only lasts a few hours.

But this one’s different. The voyage from Ushuaia to the Antarctic peninsula takes around 2 days to cover the 1,000kms of sea. And it goes through the infamous Drake Passage – the most volatile and dangerous stretch of ocean on earth.

But, Alissa (who also gets seasick but isn’t as much of a baby as me) was going regardless. So, I changed my mind a week before and prayed to the Sea Gods for a smooth crossing.

We boarded our ship, the Plancius, and the expedition leader, Adam, was standing at the top of the galley greeting everyone. A quick hello revealed his English accent. He’s from Marlow, where we used to live. “How bad is the crossing?” I asked impetuously.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it. It’s going to be bad. Really, really bad.”

I laughed as he was obviously joking. “No, seriously, it’s going to be bad. There’s a huge storm coming in.”

We found our cabin, which was right at the front of the boat – not in the centre like we had requested. Our bags dropped to the floor—and so did my heart. Right at the front of the boat. The worst place. Brilliant.

The Briefing

All the guests were called to gather in the meeting room. There was free hot chocolate, coffee and sugary biscuits. You could feel the excitement in the air as everyone nabbed a chair and looked on eagerly as Adam tapped his microphone.

He welcomed us all aboard, discussed the journey ahead and introduced us to his team – the expedition guides who would be taking us out in the zodiacs (small dinghies). They were all experts in their fields: glaciologist, Antarctic historian, ecologist, birder, Earth scientist, marine life biologist – just to name a few. Impressive.

We all whooped, giddy on hot chocolate and biscuits…

The Captain

It was all fun – until Adam called the captain to the front. He spoke quietly into the microphone, his Russian accent slow and deliberate.

“This is going to be a seriously rough crossing. We have two storms to navigate through and they are classed as violent storms. We will get through the Beagle Channel and wait for our opportunity to cross. This means we may be delayed. It is disappointing. But we will all do our best.

If you suffer from seasickness, you must see the ship’s doctor now. Actually, see him even if you don’t.”

The mood in the room changed fast.

The Plancius

Our boat was the MV Plancius. It was originally built in 1976 as an oceanographic research ship for the Royal Dutch Navy. The boat was retired from the Navy in 2004 and underwent a two-year, multi-million-pound rebuild to transform her into a polar expedition ship. The Plancius had a structural overhaul, was ice-strengthened and reconfigured to accommodate 108 passengers and 10 zodiac boats with an observation area, lecture room, deck space for wildlife viewing and a quieter engine so as not to scare sea animals.

It’s very different from an Antarctic cruise ship and is referred to as an ‘expedition’ ship, meaning it has a focus on adventure. It’s more compact and nimble making it easier to get into nooks and has a smaller overall capacity so they can get their passengers off the boat and onto the ice quicker. Instead of an entertainment crew, it’s an expedition crew of scientists giving lectures and seminars multiple times a day throughout the journey.

It all sounded right up our street. But, as I sat there contemplating my life decisions, I thought about the huge cruise liners and their one saving grace – stabilisers.

Most of the luxury cruisers have retractable wing like-stabilisers that are extended during rough seas to keep them balanced. Ours did not.

First meal

Dinner was served in the dining room and we were seriously impressed. It was like being in a restaurant. Having been on our motorcycles in the cold and wind for the last few weeks getting down to Ushuaia through Patagonia and eating tuna and rice most days, we ate a little too much.

I spotted the doctor and darted over to him. I ransacked as many different travel sickness medications from pharmacies in Ushuaia as I could. But what I really wanted were the famous patches. These little circular patches are placed behind your ear and left there for three days to prevent seasickness. They’re supposed to be the good stuff and I managed to squeeze enough out of him for both of us ready for the Drake.

The Drake Passage

The Drake Passage is the turbulent stretch of ocean between the southern tip of South America (Cape Horn) and the South Shetland Islands of Antarctica. Spanning about 600 miles (965 km) wide, it’s the shortest—and most infamous—route between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, funnelling the Antarctic Circumpolar Current, the strongest ocean current on Earth, through a narrow gap with no land to slow it down.

This convergence of three oceans—Atlantic, Pacific, and Southern—creates a volatile mix of towering waves, fierce winds, and sudden storms, making it one of the most challenging crossings on the planet. Despite its fearsome reputation, the Drake Passage plays a vital role in regulating global ocean circulation and climate, and it’s the gateway for most sea voyages to Antarctica.

When you sail to Antarctica, you can either get the Drake Shake or the Drake Lake – and you keep your fingers crossed for the Lake.

The Drake Shake?

Eating so much was not a good idea. The boat started out smooth but things quickly got out of hand. We meandered back to our cabins and tried to get some sleep. By the morning, the boat was in full swing. Even with the patch on, the boat was rocking so much that I couldn’t keep my food down. Getting out of bed became harder and I was constantly throwing up.

I made it to breakfast to grab a few dry crackers and a green apple, and chatted with one of the guides… “This Drake Shake is pretty bad, isn’t it?”

“Drake Shake? We’re not even on the Drake yet. We’re in the Beagle Channel. Mate, if you think it’s bad now… this is probably 10% of what it’s going to be like!”

I went back to bed.

The Real Drake Shake

We hit the Drake. But we still both forced ourselves to go to dinner. We noticed that all the railings from our room to the canteen were lined with fresh sick bags tucked into them.

At first it was funny, all the dinner guests whooped as mugs and cutlery flew across the room. The waves were rolling past our windows. Staff were walking people to their tables one at a time. Once seated there were metal bars to hook your feet under for support. The boat rocked hard from side to side. Chairs were tipping over everywhere.

Once people started falling over, the laughing stopped and the room started to clear quickly. One of the staff members was hanging onto a railing while trying to make light of the situation for the nervous passengers by shouting, “You wanted an expedition? This is it!” But I could see he was worried too.

I spoke to him an hour later and he said he’d never experienced this before, it was the worst Drake crossing of the season and the roughest he’d ever done.

We zigzagged back to our cabin, bouncing off the railings along the ship’s corridors. All the sick bags were gone.

Cabin Fever

The next day we were confined to our rooms as the waves became ridiculous. We managed to speak to a few of the guides beforehand. One was Googling if boats like ours could capsize (we were rocking at 45 degrees).

Another said that this was the worst crossing he’d had in 13 years. Another said he had completed 70 crossings and this was by far the worst.

The hotel manager (chap in charge of restaurant and cabins) said in his entire career he’d never had to confine guests to their rooms before.

I couldn’t get out of bed without throwing up. You’ve got to pull yourself upwards, climbing to reach the bathroom, but then the boat slammed down and you go flying backwards.

When lying in our cabin beds, our heads constantly smacked into and pushed hard against the headboard, and when the ship went downwards, we went the other way and were squatting bent knee at the bottom of the bed. This was on repeat for a full day.

If I wasn’t so sick, the view from the window would have been terrifying. Gargantuan waves crashed down on our boat and a monster swelled in the sea. I have never seen anything like it. But, fortunately/unfortunately, I was too sick to care about that.

Iceberg ahead!

When we set off, there was a ship-wide competition to guess where the first iceberg would appear on our crossing to Antarctica. Somehow, I won—my coordinates were just 27 nautical miles off—and I was awarded a bottle of wine. A welcome prize, but it created a logistical dilemma: we’d already brought three bottles along to drink in our cabin, and thanks to relentless seasickness, we hadn’t managed to open a single one. Now we had four and no stomach for any of them…

So, we resolved to pull ourselves together, channel our stiff upper lips, and commit to one heroic night… but perhaps on the last night, and we’d share them with our new friends on the boat. It wasn’t going to be pretty, but, by god, we’d give it everything we had.

The Antarctic Peninsula: Mikkelsen Harbour Landing

The water had fallen still at some point during the night. Was it over? We pulled back the curtains in our cabin to see snow drifting softly beyond the porthole. It felt like Christmas morning. An announcement echoed through the ship: “We’re through the Drake now. From here on out, the water will be calm as we sail along the Antarctic coast. Get back to your cabins and suit up—we’re making a landing.”

The rush of excitement was instant. We scrambled into our thick jackets and trousers, wrangled our gummy boots into place, and grabbed the camera and daypack before hurrying toward the waiting zodiacs. Within minutes, we were bouncing across the bay, the sound of the zodiac’s engine mingling with the slap of water against rubber hull and cold wind rubbing our cheeks.

Antarctica. We’d made it. Technically a continent, not a country—but for the sake of celebration, we called it number fifty on our round-the-world motorcycle trip. Seasickness? Forgotten. The moment we spotted our first penguin waddling along the shore at Mikkelsen Harbour, the days of queasy crossings melted away in a second. A long-forgotten drugged-up dream.

We walked across the snow-blanketed island alongside hundreds of penguins. The island was quiet, everything was calm and the landscape was filled with icy whites and blues. It was everything we’d hoped for—vast, wild, and humbling.

Pleneau Island Iceberg Graveyard

From that moment on, everything seemed to lift—the seas calmed to a glassy stillness, and with it, spirits rose. Each morning brought more faces back to the canteen, no longer pale and silent but chatty, wide-eyed, and ready for seconds. Meals became social rituals. The atmosphere shifted from survival mode to shared wonder.

An announcement interrupted breakfast. “We’re headed to the Iceberg Graveyard.” In the Wilhelm Archipelago, vast icebergs drift north and get stranded in shallow water near Pleneau Island, forming a kind of accidental art gallery.

As we cruised aboard our Zodiac, the scene was beyond words—ice arches, twisted spires, deep sapphire channels. Our glaciologist guide narrated the blues like a gallery curator: darker tones where the ice had compacted over millennia, brighter hues where ancient air was still trapped inside. It felt less like sightseeing, more like floating through a frozen dream.

Penguins

Gentoo, Chinstrap, Adélie… We just couldn’t get enough of the penguins. There are around 40 million of them in Antarctica and we hoped to see every single one.

About 18 years ago, I remember watching a documentary film by Werner Herzog where he explored the lives of people living in Antarctica. His description of penguins stuck with me: “Where others see cute fluffy birds, all I see are monochrome monomaniacs bent on self-destruction living in a cold merciless abyss” …

Turns out he was right… All we saw were cute fluffy birds – and we were fine with it! They’re fascinating to watch and learn about. Here’s some of our favourite facts…

Penguin facts

+ Antarctic temperatures can drop to as low as -60C. Penguins use social thermoregulation and huddle together in large groups, rotating positions to keep warm.

+ They can swim up to 22mph underwater, watching hundreds of them propel themselves and dart around underwater is incredible – especially compared to how clumsy they look on land. If you’ve never heard of porpoising – google it.

+ Gentoos (orange beak) are the fastest swimmers, can dive up to 200 metres and hold their breath for seven minutes. Another one on Gentoos – males offer the females stones (to build nests) to try and woo them (cute).

+ Penguin poo is visible from space because there’s so much of it. But that also means scientists can use satellite imagery to spot and discover new colonies. They reckon there’s around 44 million penguins out there.

+ Penguins have unique calls like we have unique fingerprints. This helps them recognise their mates and chicks in crowded colonies.

+ The Adelies (little ones) are incredible navigators, able to travel up to 8,000 miles a year using ocean currents.

+ Penguins can drink saltwater as they have a special gland above their eyes that filters the salt out when they sneeze.

Whales

Antarctica blew us away and we were wide-eyed and jaws open. But we were only speechless when we saw our first humpback whales. There weren’t words for what we were watching. Beautiful beasts breached through the icy waters surrounded by hundreds of penguins. Their whistles echoed through the frosty air, their fins slapped the water and their flukes glided silently into the silky water. These moments were some of the best in our lives.

We saw a hundred magnificent humpback whales in Antarctica. Here’s some of our favourite facts on them…

Whale facts

+ X Factor – males produce unique and complex songs that can last for hours to attract their mates.

+ Breach – these guys are the most active whales, frequently breaching, playing and slapping their tails on the water’s surface.

+ Flippin’ eck! – humpbacks have the longest flippers of any whale and they can reach up to a third of their body length.

+ Tail ID – Each humpback whale has unique patterns on its tail flukes, which scientists use to identify individuals.

+ Barnacles – their skin is covered in them, some of which are species that exist only on whales.

+ Bubbles – They use a cooperative hunting technique called bubble net feeding, where they blow bubbles in a spiral to trap krill before lunging through the swarm.

+ Don’t hold your breath – Humpback whales can hold their breath for up to an hour. Their typical dive only lasts between 4-7 minutes though.

+ Sleeping – Whales can rest one half of their brain at a time while continuing to swim, allowing them to stay alert to predators and navigate safely.

+ Migrations – the humpbacks take on the longest annual migration of any mammal.

Paradise Bay – Brown station

Brown base was established in the 1950s as a scientific research station. It was originally operational all-year-round until… In 1984, the station’s doctor burned the whole place to the ground after he was ordered to stay for another winter. Now it only operates in the summer months…

Foyn Harbour and shipwreck

Foyn Harbour is cradled between Nansen and Enterprise Islands in Wilhelmina Bay and is home to one of Antarctica’s dramatic shipwreck stories. In 1915, the Norwegian whaling ship Guvernøren returned from a successful season with its holds brimming with whale oil and its crew ready to celebrate.

But during the festivities, a lamp was knocked over, sparking a fire that quickly tore through the vessel thanks to the oil they’d spent months collecting. With the ship on fire, the captain ran her aground in the harbour to save the crew and all 85 men survived, but the ship didn’t. The ship still lies there, over a century later – a rusting remnant of Antarctica’s whaling era.

Deception Island / Whalers’ Bay

Deception Island is surreal. From the outside, it looks like any other island in the South Shetlands, but pass through the narrow entrance of Neptune’s Bellows and you’re inside the flooded caldera of an active volcano.

The beach is made of black volcanic sand, and in places, it’s warm to the touch—strange in a land known for sub-zero extremes. Rusting ruins of the old Hektor Whaling Station line the bay and seals move up and down the shore protecting it. The hulls are reminders of a brutal chapter in the continent’s history. And though British, Argentine, and Chilean bases once jostled for presence here, the island now mostly belongs to the penguins and seals.

Before we jumped back in the Zodiacs, most of the passengers (us included) stripped down and ran into the water for a polar plunge. It was freezing and took our breath away, but that’s just the norm in Antarctica now.

Seals

Seals have been around for over 20 million years. They were originally land-dwellers (closely related to bears and otters) but gradually adapted to life at sea. There’s so many on slabs of ice everywhere we look.

Here’s some interesting facts about them…

Seal facts

+ They eat carrots – well, they don’t, but they do have superb night vision! Their eyes are well suited for low-light conditions so they can see when deep diving.

+ Hunting via whiskers – their whiskers can detect the slightest movement in the water so they can locate their prey.

+ Built in sonar – Some scientists believe seals use a form of echolocation, like dolphins, to find food.

+ Heat management – despite living in freezing conditions, seals sometimes overheat due to their blubber and have to dive into icy waters to cool down.

+ Sleep – some seals sleep underwater, surfacing for air without even fully waking up.

+ There are six species of seal in Antarctica…

+ Weddell seals – expert divers, can go 600 metres ((2,000 feet) deep and hold their breath for an hour while hunting.

+ Leopard seals – these guys hunt penguins (see the pic of one being eaten and we posted a video of it a while back – nasty, but fascinating).

+ Ross seals – the least studied as they live in remote dense pack ice. They have weird echoing vocalizations.

+ Southern elephant seals – they grow up to a ridiculous 4,000kgs (8,800lbs). We only caught a glimpse of a young one, but still massive. Google them, incredible.

+ Crabeater seals – don’t actually eat crabs. They have special teeth that filter krill.

+ Antarctic fur seals – these guys were once nearly hunted to extinction for their pelts. But they’ve made a comeback! They’re surprisingly fast on land and we did not enjoy getting cornered by one…

Detaille Island – old UK base

Built in 1956 by the British Antarctic Survey as a research station and abandoned in 1959. During the winter of ’58 the base’s supply ship couldn’t get closer than 31kms to the island due to unstable sea ice. With no supplies, the team had to make the call to lock up the base and evacuate. They used dog sleds to travel 25kms over treacherous sea ice to reach their rescue ship and make it out.

The base was left intact with loads of personal possessions because of the rushed evacuation. So now it’s a time capsule of 1950s life in Antarctica (maintained by the UK Antarctic Heritage Trust). Getting the chance to wander around it and see how scientists and explorers lived out here feels like stepping back in time.

Circle

We crossed Antarctic Circle – one of the world’s five major circles of latitude. It’s 66.5 degrees south of the equator.

There’s an interesting phenomenon here during the austral summer (around 21st December), where the sun stays above the horizon for 24 hours. And during the austral winter (around 21st June) the sun doesn’t rise for an entire day.

It felt like the right time to make a start on the wines, so we popped a few corks that night to celebrate.

Continental Landing

We finally made our first Continental landing. By now we had spent over a week at sea and made a number of landings onto islands. But this one was special. Today we actually landed on the continent itself. This was a huge accomplishment for us and an incredible feeling having now stepped on all seven continents.

It’s like we’ve been playing a video game as we travel, the levels always sharing some similarities. But reaching the seventh continent is like unlocking the final bonus level – because Antarctica is like nothing we’ve ever seen before.

It’s as if you’re gliding around the outskirts of another world. Penguins, whales and seals distract you on the shoreline. But if you look past them, you’ll see glimpses of it – encircled by glass smooth water and protected by towering cold mountains – an enormous, beautiful white desert. And to actually stand on that land… it’s special.

We stood together on the boat’s bow in the fresh evening air. The Plancius was gliding on smooth water as we watched the frozen world pass us by. We couldn’t take our eyes off it. We knew we were heading back towards the Drake, but we didn’t care anymore. Because coming to Antarctica is easily one of the best things we’ve ever done in our lives. And we’d do it all again in a heartbeat to be here again…