The unhurried undulation of a whale’s movements is nearly inseparable from the rolling swells of the sea, making them easy to miss and hard to believe. That is, until we are surrounded by three pairs of mothers and their calves—six in total—revealing themselves to us one fin and blowhole at a time. “Come on, come on,” I hear one of my fellow passengers whisper greedily. Their backsides are not enough. We want the tail.

I can’t blame him. We’re on day five of the week-long sailing, and I’ve had two tail sightings thus far. Both times, we were much farther away, looking out to sea from atop the Venture’s observation deck. But even from a distance, the wavelike motion of a whale’s fluke lifting into the air had the power to slow time. Each time it dove back under, I felt my heart swell and drop with it.

Travelers aboard the National Geographic Venture near Cabo San Lucas in Baja California Sur

Michael S. Nolan/National Geographic-Lindblad Expeditions

Now we’re so close I can hear them breathe. “Over there!” someone yells, and we immediately turn to face starboard, pointing our fingers and cameras and binoculars into the vast blue, a deep ultramarine that feels inherently at odds with the desert’s barren hills. But the humpback does not understand our frantic gestures and quickly disappears back to the depths from which it came. As we rock and sway with the surf, our TikTok-length attention spans are held captive in the sea’s primordial rhythm. So we wait.

While we’re looking for whales, they’re paying close attention to us too, explains our guide, Luis Cuarenta, a Cabo Pulmo resident who has been leading snorkeling, scuba, and whale watching tours for the past eight years. “When I dive with the sharks, and they pass right above me, you can see their eyes watching you,” he says, still in his wetsuit from snorkeling with a group earlier that morning. “They know what you are, but they just want to be close to you.”

To him, building that mutual relationship with the whales is the best part of his job—and the reason thousands of tourists travel to Baja to see them each year. “It makes you feel part of something,” he says. “They know that you exist, and you know that they exist.”

The sightings, while very much real, are still miraculous. Just 30 years ago, Cabo Pulmo’s 20,000-year-old coral reef was depleted by years of overfishing—bringing some species, like the scalloped hammerhead shark, near ecological extinction. After grassroots campaigning by the local community, the reef was declared a Natural Protected Area by the Mexican government in 1995. Within the first 10 years, the no-take zones where fishing was banned saw over a 460% increase in fish biomass, an incredibly impressive species recovery rate.

As we sailed through Disko Bay on Greenland’s west coast, I woke to a persistent, muffled crunch. The root of all the ruckus: floating disks of pancake ice strewn across a pastel sunrise-tinted sea.

The frozen scenery was a result of the Ilulissat Icefjord—a UNESCO World Heritage Site—that’s fed by the Sermeq Kujalleq, one of the world’s fastest flowing glaciers. We had just reached the second stop of Viking’s inaugural Northwest Passage sailing, a 12-night roundtrip journey split between Greenland’s west coast and the Canadian High Arctic.

As I peered out from the retractable window in my Deluxe Nordic Balcony cabin, I couldn’t help but liken the scenery to Wilhelmina Bay in Antarctica, an expedition I joined with the cruise line two years earlier. Just three days into this sailing, I had already overheard several other passengers swap similar Arctic versus Antarctic comparisons, and swiftly came to learn that the majority of my fellow travelers had booked this journey following an outstanding Antarctica trip with Viking.

“Traveling into the Northwest Passage itself is inherently thrilling,” says Aaron Lawton, Viking’s head of expedition operations. “This legendary route has captured the imagination of explorers for centuries, and experiencing it firsthand brings that history to life.”

The opportunity to visit one of Earth’s most remote polar regions—let alone both—is a recent phenomenon for leisure travelers. The southern Antarctic and northern Arctic were historically accessible only by explorers, who then paved the way for researchers, and were followed by rugged expedition travelers. Then came the rise of luxury polar-class vessels like the Viking’s Polaris and Octantis expedition ships, which can simultaneously navigate thick ice sheets while swaddling its passengers with the comforts and amenities of a five-star resort.

For years, though, luxury cruise lines have offered far more options in the Antarctic than the Arctic, largely due to lack of port infrastructure, air connectivity, and mercurial weather. In 2024, 87 cruise ships passed through the Arctic Polar Code area versus the 58 cruise ships recorded in 2013, according to Arctic Ship Passage Data (ASTD). The stark increase over a decade is still significantly below the statistics of its south pole counterpart, where the 2023-2024 season witnessed 569 voyages and over 117,000 passengers, according to the International Association of Antarctica Tour Operators (IAATO).

Eight countries comprise the Arctic, and though some have long been popular cruising destinations, like the circumnavigation of Iceland or sailing the Norwegian fjords, travelers’ ever-growing obsession to journey off-the-beaten-path have drawn operators further north. When the Nuuk International Airport opened at the end of 2024, Greenland officially emerged as an embarkation hotspot for luxury and expedition lines including Viking, Ponant, HX, Silversea, and Quark.

As polar enthusiasts consider the new array of Arctic sailings on offer, travelers should understand that while the two polar regions share some similarities, of course, an Arctic cruise is much different from an Antarctic expedition. Mainly: the Arctic’s landscape varies from rugged, lichen-covered rock face to incomprehensibly-sized icebergs. Antarctica mostly presents a consistent, frozen tundra. In the Arctic, the excursions are culture-centric, whereas Antarctica promises days filled with wildlife.

“In the Arctic, encounters with Inuit communities in places such as Greenland or the Canadian Arctic add a powerful human dimension to the experience,” Lawton says. “These interactions provide cultural context that deeply influence our guests’ understanding of the region.”

In the 91-person settlement of Itilleq, Greenland, for example, we joined locals for morning coffee and cake in a ritual called kaffemik, a tradition typically held for birthdays or special occasions. Crossing over to Canada’s Arctic archipelago and landed in Nunavut, the traditional lands of the Inuit, an elder led us through an exploration of Inuit music via seal-hide drum as the next generation showcased native sports like the One Foot High Kick. And on Nunavut’s Beechey Island, we were the only people at the gravesite of Arctic explorer Sir John Franklin’s three crewmen—a fragile archaeological site we were only allowed to access thanks to Viking’s onboard archaeologists (made all the more authentic due to an impending snowstorm).

This is the latest installment of our bimonthly column Crews on Cruise, spotlighting the people who work behind the scenes of the world’s most memorable voyages—from bartenders and entertainers to ship captains and expedition leaders.

When Chief Mate Laci Gist left her lifelong home in Florida for the icy, unpredictable waters of Alaska, she wasn’t just chasing a promotion—she was finding herself. Today the 39-year-old mariner serves as second-in-command on the Native-owned, family-run Alaskan Dream Cruises’ Admiralty Dream, navigating some of North America’s trickiest passages, including the storied Wrangell Narrows. “Just when you think you know these waters, Mother Nature will throw a harrowing tide at you,” says Gist. “I learn something new every day on this job.”

The once male-dominated maritime field is shifting just as quickly. Gist now works alongside female deckhands, officers, and even pilots—at the very top of the maritime ladder—and recalls how the company closed a pay gap in her first season before she even noticed it. But the work also comes with trade-offs: months away from her young daughters and milestones missed back home.

We caught up with Gist in Juneau last summer to talk about her favorite tiny port towns, learning to “read” the personality of a ship, and what keeps her coming back to Alaska cruising season after season.

Why did you decide to work on cruise ships?
“I’m originally from Citrus County, Florida—born and raised. I grew up around boats my whole life. My dad was an avid fisherman, so we were always on the water: fishing, skiing, and taking houseboats out on the Suwannee River.

When he passed away in my mid-30s, it pushed me to take the leap—five months straight aboard with minimal land time. I found pieces of myself I didn’t know existed. My second season was the most meditative. I was mostly at the helm on night watch—just me, the fog, and whales surfacing around the ship. The sunrises were indescribable. It was so very healing.”

What does a typical day on the job look like?
“We carry 44 to 49 passengers and 20 to 23 crew on my vessel. My team covers deck and bridge, galley, stewards, hotel, and engineering. That means safety inspections, rounds, plotting navigation, and incident reports. On smaller ships like ours, everyone pitches in—deck crew might wash dishes one day and help the engineers the next. There’s a lot of laughter. We live in close quarters and become like family, so morale is huge.”

What is your favorite part about this job?
“Learning new ships. Each has its own personality—some stoic, some finicky. The way you treat a ship affects how she handles. Ask any seafarer: Ships have a spirit. Living below the water line, you’re in their bones, and you can feel their attitude. If she’s not happy, she’ll let you know.”

Under the forest tapestry of fluffy fruit bats and intersecting branches, I crept closer to a prehistoric-looking giant tortoise that had taken refuge in the shade of some shrubbery. My presence on Aldabra Atoll in the Indian Ocean was improbable for a number of reasons. The world’s second-largest coral atoll is not only extremely remote (it’s about 700 miles from Victoria, the capital of the Seychelles), but it also requires visitors to adhere to intense biosecurity measures. The atoll is home to 100,000 giant tortoises, the largest population in the world, as well as to nearly 400 other endemic species and subspecies, including the white-throated rail, the western Indian Ocean’s last remaining flightless bird.

Smaller ships can access remote atolls like the Seychelles’ Outer Islands with minimal environmental impact.

Smaller ships like the one I’m traveling on, Ponant’s (#5 Small Ship) Le Bougainville, can access these prime natural areas with minimal impact. Visiting most of the Seychelles’ tiny Outer Islands, like the 0.18-square-mile St. Francois, involved “wet landings”: hopping off Zodiacs straight into clear shallow water. Veteran outfitter Abercrombie & Kent, which partnered with Ponant on the experience, took numerous measures to ensure that our arrival would not harm the environment, including dipping our shoes in antimicrobial liquid and vacuum-sealing our belongings.

Coastal Africa and the continent’s island nations, like the Seychelles and Madagascar, are inviting places to cruise, with their unique ecosystems, white-sand beaches, and historical seaside cities. Yet offerings here are limited. We didn’t encounter another vessel—not even a fishing boat—during our first 10 days of sailing through the Seychelles. I saw more red-footed boobies than tourists.

This cruise begins with a Reykjavik overnight and a charter flight to Kangerlussuaq, Greenland, first exploring the vast Arctic wilderness and wildlife—just a few hundred miles short of the North Pole—before visiting balmy Caribbean islands like Montserrat, Barbados, and Trinidad. After crossing the Equator, Seabourn Venture lingers in Brazil, at intriguing ports like Salvador da Bahia with its colorful Afro-Brazilian culture, and bustling Rio de Janeiro. Then it’s off to Montevideo, the Falkland Islands, subantarctic South Georgia Islands, and Antarctica, concluding in Ushuaia, Argentina.

Cruisers can also join an abbreviated 82-day Grand Expedition: Arctic to Antarctica, August 29 to November 19, 2027. (94-Day Grand Expedition from $94,499; 82-Day Grand Expedition, from $80,009)

Viking’s Arctic to Antarctic cruise departs from Greenland (pictured above) before traversing the Canadian Arctic.

Simon Dubreuil/Getty

Viking

Passengers boarding 378-passenger Viking Octantis on September 9, 2027 sail the 81-day Arctic to Antarctic Explorer journey visiting 10 countries. This cozy, elegant expedition ship offers the Scandinavian design and amenities Viking devotees admire. The library, curated by an esteemed London bookshop and Cambridge University, houses tomes on various destinations the ship visits. Dining highlights include Norwegian homestyle Mamsen’s and Manfredi’s Italian restaurant. Another beloved functional perk: Viking’s special operation boats can be launched through the in-ship marina on a stable slipway shielded from elements.

Entry staterooms offer 215-square-foot Nordic Balcony cabins, with king beds, large bathrooms with heated floors and anti-fog mirror, and drying closets. The huge 1,238-square-foot Owner’s Suite possesses a boardroom, pantry, large private garden lounge area, and private library, with wine and music collections curated by Viking Chairman Torstein Hagen.

This cruise begins in Nuuk, Greenland, traversing the Canadian High Arctic and Great Lakes before taking in the fall foliage of Halifax, Quebec City, and Toronto. Cruising the St. Lawrence River and New York is next, followed by the Bahamas, Jamaica and a Panama Canal transit. Then, sail south to Santiago, float by Chilean fjords and glaciers, and at last, arrive to Antarctica. The cruise concludes in Ushuaia, Argentina.

Amenities include business class airfare, transfers, $4,000 per couple shipboard credit, included excursion in each port, plus complimentary Zodiac, special operation boats and kayaks, keepsake expedition jacket, complimentary visa service, and beverage package.

Viking has opened bookings for its Viking Octantis 81-day, 10 country voyage from Nuuk, Greenland to Ushuaia, Argentina (September 15, 2028 to December 4, 2028) featuring the same itinerary and amenities. (2027 sail from $72,995; 2028 sail from $74,995)

This article is part of Crews on Cruise, a bimonthly column spotlighting the people who work behind the scenes of the world’s most memorable voyages—from bartenders and entertainers to ship captains and expedition leaders.

Seb Coulthard’s thirst for adventure started young. Originally from Worcestershire, England, his dad frequently traveled for his job in the oil industry. Upon returning home from work trips, he would regale Coulthard with tales of far-flung destinations like the Amazonian jungle and the Sahara desert. “I grew up wanting that in my life,” Coulthard says.

While with the Royal Navy, Coulthard earned a degree in aerospace engineering; it’s also where he first learned about Sir Ernest Shackleton. After being promoted to Petty Officer, he was deployed to the island of South Georgia in the South Atlantic Ocean, Shackleton’s final resting place, with a team of nine engineers and a single Lynx helicopter. He crossed the Southern Ocean again in 2013, this time aboard a near-exact replica of Shackleton’s lifeboat, the legendary James Caird, sailing 830 nautical miles wearing period-correct clothing, surviving on starvation rations, and using a sextant to navigate. The re-enactment became the subject of a three-part Discovery Channel documentary titled Shackleton: Death or Glory.

After 19 years of service, Coulthard retired from the British Armed Forces and made the leap to cruising—re-training as a polar historian, wilderness medic, and expedition guide for Polar Latitudes, which partners with small-ship cruise specialists such as AdventureSmith Explorations to take travelers to the most remote corners on earth. Some journeys, like the 10-day Antarctic Latitudes roundtrip from Ushuaia, Argentina, offer just a taste of the Southern latitudes; others, like this epic 20- to 23-day expedition, venture deeper to the Falkland Islands and his beloved South Georgia.

A jack of all trades, Coulthard has also worked as a submarine operator for ultra-luxury cruise line Seabourn. “There’s more life underwater in the Antarctic than there is above water,” he says. The seven-seat submersibles can dive up to 300 meters; at that depth, guests might encounter sea slugs, sea stars, sea spiders two feet in diameter, and 15,000-year-old sponges. “It’s like being on Mars.”

The way Coulthard views it, an expedition leader’s job isn’t just to interpret the landscapes and wildlife—it’s to connect the dots for travelers so they don’t feel numb to issues like climate change. “That’s the beauty of this type of expeditionary travel,” he says. “It comes with the opportunity to enlighten, inspire, and inform people so that when they go home, they’re armed with a new world view.”

We caught up with Coulthard at his home in the West Midlands last summer to talk about penguins, making a 12-ton machine go underwater, and the challenges of maintaining relationships ashore when you’re always on the go.

Why did you decide to work on cruise ships?

“After years in the Royal Navy, I fancied a career change—and just happened to be part of an expedition that visited the Antarctic as part of a re-enactment of Ernest Shackleton’s journey across the Southern Ocean. After the documentary came out, Polar Latitudes invited me to come onboard as a guest speaker and that turned into a job. I was transformed.”

By using battery power and liquified natural gas (LNG), Havila has decreased its CO₂ emissions by 35% and reduced air pollutants like NOx and SOx by 90%, per the 2023 sustainability report. Hurtigruten, another Norwegian cruise company, has invested over $100 million into environmental upgrades for its fleet in recent years, including equipping three ships to use hybrid electric power, which the company says will cut their CO₂ emissions by 25% and NOx emissions by 80% by 2025.

Through a government contract called a “request for tender,” Havila and Hurtigruten both operate tourism sailings on Norway’s coastal express route, which connects 34 ports stretching from Bergen in the south to Kirkenes in the far northeast, near the Russian border. The route isn’t just a tourist attraction: For 130-plus years, it has served as vital shipping and transportation infrastructure for Norway’s port communities, especially those in the rural north that lack air and rail links.

The historic route is the “ideal case” for developing the first zero-emissions cruise ship for a few reasons, explains Trond Johnsen, the center director of SINTEF, a nonprofit research organization that has partnered with Hurtigruten on their Sea Zero sustainability initiative.

“This is a route where it’s actually possible to go electric because the distances between each port are not that long,” he says. “You’re not trying to cross the Atlantic or even cross the North Sea down to Europe, which would require very big batteries—bigger than the ship itself.” With more frequent charging opportunities, smaller batteries can be installed, and thanks to Norway’s hydropower capabilities, electric battery production and charging is also completed using renewable energy. By combining battery power with additional technology, like solar panels and retractable sails to harness wind power, Hurtigruten says it is on track to launch a zero-emissions cruise ship by 2030.

While the World Heritage fjords requirements now won’t go into effect until 2032, SINTEF and Hurtigruten are hoping that the Norwegian government will add a zero-emissions stipulation to the coastal express contract. The contract will expire and reopen for bidding in 2030, according to Johnsen, redetermining which companies get to operate on the route and how many ships (out of the current cap of 11) each line gets. “I think we all want that,” he says. “This project [Sea Zero] actually showed that it’s possible.”

Norway may soon see the first zero-emissions cruise ship, but transitioning the technologies to scale around the world will not be without its challenges—especially for larger cruise ships traveling further distances, which require much more power (and funding). However, the international research that Havila and Hurtigruten are putting to the test today, like FreeCO2ast and Sea Zero, are proof that solutions are out there.

“Today, everything is scalable—it’s just a matter of willingness and motivation,” says Vangstein. “It is a bigger challenge, but it’s not impossible.”

The only other way to get to Tasiilaq is by helicopter—and Ponant’s icebreaking ship Le Commandant Charcot is a much more comfortable way to see the snow-capped peaks, rugged fjords, and icebergs floating off the coast on several 10-day itineraries from Iceland in the Spring of 2024. Guests can visit the town and discover village customs such as hunting by dogsled on the ice floes, or learn some of the Inuktitut language. Kayak or take a zodiac boat among the icebergs, trek overland and camp out overnight on the ice, try ice fishing, or simply sit back and take it all in from the ship’s sun deck.

Pitcairn Island, British Overseas Territory

Cruise line: Silversea

Tiny Pitcairn Island is so mountainous there’s no room for an airport—and barely enough space to land a boat. The latter is exactly why the Bounty mutineers and a handful of Tahitians in their party chose to settle here in 1790; so they couldn’t be easily invaded by the British Navy. Their descendants still live on the island today, and it’s the least populous British Overseas Territory. Visitors come primarily for bragging rights; stamps—both passport and postage—are one of the island’s top draws. Several cruises stop through the islands, but Silversea’s sailings onboard Silver Cloud between Tahiti and Chile in the fall of 2024 and 2025 anchor for an overnight, giving passengers ample time to attempt the often-treacherous landing by tender.

Aeolian Islands, Italy

Cruise Line: Variety Cruises

Northeast of Sicily, these volcanic islands are only accessible by ferry. Stromboli, with its ever-present thread of smoke is perhaps the most famous of the archipelago’s volcanoes. You won’t find cars on many of the islands, but you will find chic boutiques, oceanfront bars and restaurants, and more secluded, rocky beaches than could be hoped for. From the Sun Deck of Variety Cruises 44-passenger yacht the Harmony G, anchored in the azure waters while the cliffs rise above, it’s easy to feel like somebody while sipping an Aperol Spritz while taking in the ripples of golden sunlight reflecting off the Tyrrhenian Sea. Variety Cruises is finalizing dates and rates for 2024.

Getty

Floreana Island, Galápagos, Ecuador

Cruise Line: Lindblad Expeditions

As our bus bounced down the winding dirt road, through the Mars-like landscape of King George Island in the South Shetland Islands, a cargo container shelter came into view. On the front porch a crowd was gathering, waving eagerly. At first, I thought they might be residents of the Chilean Frei base, which maintains the rudimentary gravel runway on which we just landed. Scientists, perhaps, or support staff that keep the base functional. But then I saw her—the venerable marine biologist Dr. Sylvia Earle, shepherding passengers from Aurora Expedition’s Sylvia Earle, the new polar expedition ship that had just completed its first sailing. We were in the midst of switching places: those on the bus about to embark upon our Antarctic adventure, and those on the porch returning home after theirs. Earle had been onboard to christen her namesake vessel.

Across Antarctica, you’ll find no shortage of places, landmarks, and even animals named after women: Queen Elizabeth Land, Una’s Peaks, and the Adélie penguin, among them. But it’s not a reflection of the many scientific accomplishments by women in the region. It’s because the continent has long been dominated by men—men who named things after their sweethearts at home, female benefactors, or, in the case of Una’s Peaks, after a secretary’s body. (The informal name for the basalt towers at the entrance to the Lemaire Channel, a narrow passage between 3,000-foot mountains that’s frequently traversed by cruises, is extremely uncouth.) Fortunately, times are changing, and places and ships in Antarctica are now being named to celebrate women for their accolades.

The Sylvia Earle

Bartosz Strozynski

In the case of Earle, 87, that list of accolades is monumental. In 1970, she led a two-week stay in the underwater laboratory, part of the Tektite II project co-sponsored by NASA, which studied the psychological effects of living in confined spaces—the space agency was interested in the implications for long-duration space missions. Though Earle had applied for earlier missions in the Tektite program, women were excluded from participating; Earle’s mission, Mission 6, was an all-female team of aquanauts. In 1979, she set the record for the deepest untethered sea walk by a woman: wearing a specialized diving suit, Earle strolled the ocean floor at a depth of 1,250 feet. And in 1990, Earle became the first female Chief Scientist of the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA). With her robust body of underwater work, it should come as little surprise that Earle has earned the colloquial title ‘Her Deepness.’

But the ship Sylvia Earle isn’t solely dedicated to Earle. In fact, each of her decks is named after a female leader in ocean sciences: marine educator Sharon Kwok, plastic-free pioneer Joanna Ruxton, coral conservationist Dr. Carden Wallace AM, Arctic wildlife guardian Bernadette Demientieff, marine biologist Dr. Asha de Vos, and conservationist Hanli Prinsloo. And then there are the women onboard the ship itself. All expedition cruises are home to a staff comprising experts in a variety of fields relevant to the sailing’s itinerary, from scientists to mountaineers to historians, and on our sailing, the 23-strong team includes seven women, most of whom were Antarctic veterans with specialties ranging from scuba diving to marine zoology. As someone obsessed with ice, volcanoes, and outer space, I was particularly drawn to the multi-hyphenate Dr. Ulyana Horodyskyj Peña, a glaciologist, geologist, mountaineer, professor, and astronomy enthusiast. (Enthusiast might be an understatement; she was a semi-finalist for the NASA astronaut class of 2017.) Appropriately, I formally met her atop a glacier.