5 Surprising Life Lessons Learned While in the Arctic
“(…) the thought of being on a cold dark ocean for two weeks brought out the worst of it instead of my normal best.”
The backstory is that I was lucky enough to travel with my friend Carolyn of Wander Ramble Roam on an Arctic expedtion cruise by Quark Expeditions. I’ve already written up a detailed review article with the trip description, tips and insights. This article consists of the lessons and reminders that experience highlighted, a personal perception, the kind of introspection that I think is good to re-calibrate with from time to time.
Let’s dive in.
1. Do it scared, otherwise you’ll miss out
I’m afraid of open water. I think the deep blue abyss is both awesome, in the truest sense of the word, and terrifying. Give me an emergency on land any day over a few bumps in the ocean. Knowing this, I’ve always tried to expose myself to it.
First, scuba diving in Australia where it took over half the day to learn to clear my mask of water without freaking out. With the ocean waters around us taunting me, I sat on the top deck of the boat with a 1.5L bottle of water, pouring a little into my mask, putting the mask on, and trying to clear it. Over and over for hours by while everyone else went scuba diving. Near the last hour of the trip, I manage to clear my mask and not freak out, then did it again. I got to go on a buddy dive, after I made the instructor promised we wouldn’t go too deep, and saw my first sea turtle. It might as well of been snorkeling, but I didn’t care. They gave me a mock certificate for being “most dedicated” after saying they’ve never seen anyone take so long to accomplish mask clearing and not give up.
Years later, I took the open water diver certification, becoming a very expensive snorkeler for life. I’ve gone on a few cruises as well, but made sure to pick ones where I can see land throughout the voyage or at least docked daily. When I said yes to joining Carolyn on an Arctic cruise it was because I knew it was too good to pass up. I’d be traveling with one of my best friends to places that I had dreamed of going to for a while now. But it’s still a cruise, in the ocean, in the Arctic, for fourteen days.
In the weeks leading up to our trip, my nights were consumed with running emergency scenarios in my mind. Manageable but annoying. A few days before the trip they turn into straight up sweat inducing nightmares. I checked, then checked again, every little detail I could find out about the ship, emergency drills, and the emergency equipment. I eyed up those life boats and checked numbers to make sure everyone could fit. I looked up the closest SAR capabilities for each section of our route.
Although I’ve always been emergency minded, the thought of being sailing on a cold dark ocean for two weeks brought out the worst of it instead of my normal best. I went anyways.
The first night was incredibly rocky resulting in me being miserably seasick and wanting to get off the damn boat. I stayed anyways.
I strongly disliked the zodiac rides we used for expeditions. Gripping the rope that runs along the seating like it might magically save me in the event of what? I don’t know. Eventually, they became more comfortable as long as we didn’t go too fast. I let go of the rope, took pictures, and laughed with friends. By the end of the cruise, when the winds were up, I felt ok on the ship. It wasn’t so bad after all. It was fine. I was perfectly fine. Logically I knew this would be the case from the start, but our fears don’t often abide by logic until you provide the mind with proof by doing the damn thing your scared of doing.
If I chickened out and let fear drive my life, I would have never of joined the army as a kid. I would have never of become a professional skydiver. I would have missed out on an incredibly inspiring and meaningful trip to the Arctic. Experiences that shaped by life for the better.
“(…) life isn’t immutable, no matter how much we insist it be otherwise and nature commands us to adapt. ”
2. When things don’t work out it creates space for other things to happen
“I came for the puffins”.
“I picked this trip for Fair Isle”.
“We better see polar bears”.
These are the things I overheard passengers saying the first few days. For some, the entire trip weighed on one particular aspect. And I get it, I was there for the Faroes, Svalbard, and my bestie. But we were too early for puffins, and only a few saw some in the water. Fair Isle couldn’t happen because we were a day too early to be accepted for a visit. Eventually, we did however end up having a remarkable show of a polar bear stalking a seal.
We’re so used to things happening in accordance to a schedule in our normal life that we forget that nature can’t be commanded this way. We have our home routines, our calendars blocked, our health tracked by each gram we eat, each step we take, each hour we sleep. We thrive in the routine. Depend on it. We like knowing what is going to happen today, and the next, and the next. But what about our relationship to change? Isn’t that how we thrive as well? Isn’t adaptability part of our resilience and a factor in how much we enjoy life? It’s a bit of an illusion, we can’t go all in on either, we need routine and a healthy relationship with change because life isn’t immutable, no matter how much we insist it be otherwise and nature commands us to adapt.
That said, I’m on the other side of the pendulum. I really enjoy change, starting over, and unknowns. Perhaps too much, as it surprises no one when I suddenly sell my house, change careers, or travel last minute. While some craved to have their expectations managed on the cruise, it was a joy to hear the expedition staff say “stay agile” as they worked through plan E,F….Z of the moment. Each day was a bit of a Kinder surprise, you just never knew exactly what it would bring.
Because of the adaptability of the ships schedule, we experienced far more than anticipated. We visited Funnigur in the Faroes, a village that only accepts three ships a year and only with a certain number of passengers. We explored Jan Mayen, a volcanic island that it rarely visited. Good winds and sea days meant we had extra time to boot around Svalbard and sail up to the back ice of the polar arctic. While we were there, a bowhead whale swam alongside the ship. These beautiful creatures can live for over 200 years and are considered the longest living mammals. The moment so special, so rare, that most the staff had never seen one before. Yet there it was, bobbing it’s white chin as it swam along the ship’s port side.
When things don’t go according to plan it reminds me of the saying “there is no right decision only the decision you make right” because my approach to the trip was to add meaning to what happens, not what doesn’t. There would be no discarding the experience simply because a specific event didn’t happen – there was too much to be grateful for.
3. Constant Availability is Self-Imposed Misery
Having limited reception or wifi is a glorious thing. It might drives others mad at first, but it’s one aspect of my latest travels that I’d like to carry forward. On the Arctic expedition cruise there was free wifi that was brilliantly limited. I could have paid for more connectivity but that would have dampened the vacation in my opinion. So for two weeks, I posted and ghosted on social media once every few days, answered emails once a week, and I kid you not – the world did not fall apart.
I felt better overall, paid attention to the wilderness around me, and had more engaging conversations.
After the trip, I went to Andorra for a week. A country that isn’t a part of the European Union, so you have to pay hefty roaming fees if you turn your phone on. Once again, my phone stayed on airplane mode the entire time, connecting to wifi in the evenings at the hotel. The GenXer in me loves this. I like daydreaming while taking the bus to the next town over, the silence while hiking, and actually talking to people instead of having my head down in a screen. I don’t need to be available or answer messages immediately.
Still traveling for a few weeks more, I’m checking my phone less, leaving it in my bag more, and sleeping better at night. While I already limit screen time at home, or I thought I did, these last few weeks have reminded me that life is better with more time in nature and significantly less online.
“All of a sudden, it was interesting. Intriguing. The information they shared was ‘sticky’ in my brain. Ok, but why?”
4. Story Telling as a pathway to curiousity, caring, and action
Do I love geography? Have a penchant for history? Care about birds?
Not particularly.
I mean, I love promoting local trails and responsible hiking practices through girlgonegood wellness and wilderness but I’ve never been as drawn to these things as when the expedition staff (marine biologists, ornithologists, geologists, etc) gave their seminars.
All of a sudden, it was interesting. Intriguing. The information they shared was ‘sticky’ in my brain.
Okay, but why? Because they were all excellent presenters. They wrapped their information up in a blanket of good storytelling that made it digestible for the audience. We laughed, leaned in, and asked questions. It was as entertaining as it was informative. Passengers would talk amongst themselves about the tidbits they learned. It was also applicable, the information was reinforced on each excursion through observing the landscape or wildlife. Birds became objects of curiousity. Dramatic landscapes started to tell a story of their own. History and culture came alive through people and structures. It made me think about my habits at home, and which of those impacted the environment around us the most. What actions in sustainability can we take? What indulgences have a greater cost than benefit? Storytelling is a powerful way to bridge information and get a general population engaged, and that was done at a masterful level by the expedition staff.
5. NAture Holds both might and vulnerability
Whether it was the breeding colonies of auks littering dramatic cliffs, the piercing blue glaciers running kilometeres long, or the ocean spray coming over the bow of the ship as the winds pick up – proof of nature’s ability to be mighty is all around us.
It’s the tornado that rips through our towns, the species that adapts to changing environments, the sun rise that gives us a sense of calm every time we sit to watch it. We assume Mother Nature is the constant, the thing that will always be there, no matter what we do. It too confronting to think otherwise. She is mighty.
She is also quite vulnerable. It shows as we contribute to certain species declining and annual temperatures rising. I’m not here to argue climate change, but there’s no denying that we don’t work with nature as often, or as well, as we should. This seems a little ridiculous considering that it is crucial to our survival, and yet, we continue to use her like the toxic partner we are. I know, that’s a broad brush. There are some great programs and organizations out there, Quark Expeditions being one of them with their Polar Promise.
It was mentioned a few times how “normally we can’t get in here this early in the season [due to ice]” and the seminars really opened us up to the wildlife and environmental changes in the polar regions. This hurt a little to hear, as it should. While I often chat about the reasons to keep your dogs leashed in conservation areas or try to encourage plogging during all your hikes – seeing the changes in the arctic seemed more, well, real.
“We assume Mother Nature is the constant, the thing that will always be there, no matter what we do. It too confronting to think otherwise.”
What’s next?
While I’m still traveling, I’m still working on the High Agency Human™ challenges for the beta run in September. Interesting in building your buffers against life’s adverse moments? Email hello@vickiemlanthier.com to join the beta run this September before the officially launch in for January 2025.
Here’s some exciting news, the book on adversity and well-being, the one I’m writing for anyone who wants to live a big life but can’t seem to catch a break - is coming along well! The manuscript draft will be done by this fall. Yes, I know it’s been 3 years in the works. It’s coming. I promise. I simply want it to be the best book possible for you.
Feel free to tag me on Instagram or LinkedIn with your comments and insights, or email hello@vickiemlanthier.com
Disclaimer: Note that this article reflects my personal experience and opinions only. I am not affiliated with Quark Expeditions in any way and this was not a paid promotion.