Expedition Blog – Sam Dunlay, Antarctic Peninsula 2026
Writing about my experience sailing to Antarctica is difficult. I’m still trying to understand what I’m feeling and how these feelings have shaped me.
What I can say is that it was an adventure completely outside my comfort zone. If you had asked me, or anyone who knows me, whether I would ever sail a historic tall ship to Antarctica, the answer would have been a resounding no. The idea was so far outside the realm of possibility that it would have seemed almost laughable. Yet here I am reflecting on that very journey.
My time on the Bark Europa was a mix of highs and lows.
I experienced some incredible moments alongside some awful ones.
One highlight was our first encounter with a pod of humpback whales in Antarctica. It was snowing for the first time on our journey, and being on a sailing ship that close to the water felt like we were travelling right alongside them. Everyone gathered on deck to watch these majestic creatures glide through the water and fluke. It was an incredibly special moment which made me feel connected to the remarkable region we were visiting.
My first encounter with the ‘Drake Shake’ was less magical. I spent the next day-and-a-half seasick in bed, throwing up into a bucket. That was awful. Pulling ropes in the rain wasn’t much fun either.
Even though it was difficult, I’m glad I had the chance to go on this journey. Sailing a tall ship to Antarctica once felt completely outside anything I imagined doing. In 2023, I was diagnosed with long COVID after a year of terrible health. It completely reshaped my life and how I viewed myself. I’ve always been an active person who can never sit still. Suddenly, there were days when getting out of bed was the biggest challenge I faced. I had to slow down almost to a crawl, and there were moments when I thought I might never return to my old life.
Thankfully, through time and patience, I improved and could challenge myself again. But there is always a lingering doubt that one day I will wake up and all those symptoms will come crashing down on me. I wanted to sail to Antarctica to prove to myself that I was still capable of incredible things, and to close the chapter on a part of my life that had defined me for too long.
Everything feels easier after this expedition. Things that once seemed difficult now feel achievable. I’ve caught myself thinking, if I can wake up at 4 am to sail a tall ship in the pouring rain, then I can do this. There’s an extra bounce in my step which makes me feel capable of more, and I feel willing to set goals and chase them.
The more days that pass since the adventure, the more I realise how much I enjoyed the experience. Even when I complained bitterly to the Trust’s Expedition Assistant Leader, Lawrence Rothwell while we were both on helm, that I’d rather be at home, I could always feel the corner of my lips moving towards a smile.
The Bark Europa became a community and a place of adventure, separate from the outside world. Free from the influence of everyday life, I could connect with people in ways I normally wouldn’t. We were all going through this incredible experience together, and the only things that mattered were the ones on board. All the problems I held onto at home didn’t seem to weigh as much when we were sailing.
I also felt deeply connected to the stories of the heroic age polar explorers. Walking in their footsteps on a sailing ship reinforced just how difficult their journeys must have been. Experiencing even a fraction of the weather they faced and remembering they had none of the modern technology we relied on, it’s hard to imagine the courage it must have taken. It would have been a frightful journey. I was gifted a variety of Antarctic books before I left and reading them back now adds a sense of nuance I didn’t have before. Their story is even more dramatic and harrowing after experiencing just a small version of it myself.
To finish, I’d like to share a short poem I wrote on board. After an hour of setting sails in the rain and wind, the conditions settled, and we were met with a stunning night sky, seeing our first stars after two weeks.
After the storm comes tranquillity,
a quiet beauty to reflect upon.
It could be a full moon rising,
or the stars shining after darkness.
Hearing the wind fill the sails,
and the endless sound of the ocean.
Thank you to the Antarctic Heritage Trust for this opportunity, which is deeply appreciated.
Sam Dunlay
Inspiring Explorer









