Expedition Blog – Matthew Lynch, Antarctic Peninsula 2026
Making it to Antarctica had been a goal of mine for a while, well for almost as long as I can remember. My interest was mostly formed from being handed books about Antarctic exploration as a child, probably to try and keep me quiet. There was also a fair amount of trying to win a friendly competition with my dad as to who could get to Antarctica first. After all he was the one handing me the books.
When I was planning on how to get to Antarctica, most of my thoughts revolved around a research or support role at Scott Base. Even though those were plausible methods to go somewhere pretty spectacular (and still an option for my eventual return), the drive to make it happen wasn’t super high.
The desire to make it to Antarctica comes from an awe of exploration, so doing something slightly absurd to get there seemed more appropriate. However, sailing a 1900s tall ship hadn’t jumped to mind. Yet, when the very man competing with me to make it to Antarctica sent me the application for the Antarctic Heritage Trust’s 2026 Antarctic Peninsula expedition it felt right. Although, after adventuring around the mountains in New Zealand, I wasn’t even close to understanding what the sailing part of the expedition might entail.
The trials and tribulations of the expedition hit early for me. A case of appendicitis and post-surgical complications postponed my physical appearance at the Team Building Weekend (as well as thwarting my opportunity to be the second person to remove their own appendix in Antarctica). However, only spending around 24 hours with the people I was about to spend a month travelling with, wasn’t going to deter me from the opportunity.
Luckily, I got to know the fantastic group of people who made up my Inspiring Explorers™ cohort as we made our way through Argentina and towards the Bark EUROPA.
The true excitement of the voyage hit me when we first saw the ship. Dwarfed by all the other ships in port, the hilarity of sailing on that little, tall ship through the Drake Passage in the age of monster cruise ships really spurred me on. Every hour waiting to start the voyage felt torturous.
A glassy motor through the Beagle Channel made for a calm introduction to our new home and all of our fellow voyage crew. After a first watch with sun and high spirits I went to sleep in my bunk, only to wake to find quite a different ship. The Drake Passage was out in force and the bubbly atmosphere on board had turned to one of rugged determination. The occupants of our ship seemed to halve while I was asleep, and those left were fighting hard. I was lucky to be gifted with a sailor’s stomach, well either that or my unfounded belief I would be fine, saved me. What I didn’t realise was how the change in mood on the ship would become one of the hardest challenges for me.
The next five days consisted of putting on and taking off wet weather gear, adding a layer of merino each day and pulling on freezing wet ropes when we were told to pull. I had hoped to get a bit more involved in learning the intricacies of the rigging but that was challenging with only half our watch well enough to be on deck. Despite the disrupted sleep schedule, and freezing work conditions, sailing across the Drake Passage was fantastic. Every moment was an adventure, from getting in and out of my top bunk, to eating, and obviously being out on deck in eight metre swells. Through the passage to Antarctica, I learnt to work with the ship rather than fighting it and found a level of mental relaxation I haven’t for a long time, watching the waves roll and the Bark EUROPA surf along them.
Reaching Antarctica was oddly bittersweet. I had made it to a place I had thought about for a long time but was slightly sad that the sailing had come to an end. I could write on and on about experiences on the Antarctic Peninsula itself, from the blue of the ice and the sound of glaciers calving, to the odd feeling seeing a cruise ship pass by. While those experiences will stay with me for a long time and have spurred a few crazy ideas, sailing was the star of the show for me. As to not entirely skip over the Antarctic section of the voyage I’ll mention one of my favourite experiences.
On paper our landing at Stoney Point in Paradise Harbour was one of the least exciting. A small domed glacier, with sparse wildlife sightings under a gloomy grey sky. Yet that gloomy sky became something special. At home in the Tararua’s, Remutaka’s, or just around Wellington that sky would be disappointing. However, somehow here amongst the greyscale landscape it was full of colour. In that moment, where we were truly sunk in, and I got a glimpse into the remoteness early explorers would have felt. I’ve never looked at grey clouds for so long and don’t think I’ve looked at a grey sky the same since.
Then the time came to set sail back across the Drake Passage to Argentina. Knowing what was coming, I was an anomaly amongst the voyage crew, excited to be back amongst the waves. This is when the change in mood of the ship would return to hit me hard. I hadn’t realised during our week on the Peninsula how much the experience had been shaped by those around me, particularly my fellow Inspiring Explorers. When sea sickness took hold of the ship once again, I truly felt the change in mood, and was un-protected by the novelty of sailing the ship. Luckily, this time my compatriots acclimatised a bit quicker, and the ship felt alive with people again after a day or so. For these final days I pushed my sleep schedule further to maximise the time spent up in the deckhouse playing cards and watching the waves go by.
Returning home, I almost felt not much had changed. Looking back now, I can see while what I want from life hasn’t changed, how willing I am to act on those plans has. This has already opened some doors I may have previously left closed. For this I am incredibly thankful to all who helped make this experience happen for me. From the Antarctic Heritage Trust, the generous donors, and the expedition partners, to all those who came on this journey with me, physically as well as getting me to the start line.
The Inspiring Explorers™ programme offered me a transformational experience totally different to what I expected, and I look forward to finding ways to help others have the opportunity to experience their own adventures in the future.
Thank you to our generous Inspiring Explorers™ Fund donors, expedition partner Spirit of Adventure Trust, sponsor Burnsco, and supporter Bark Europa.
