Sir John Key’s Travel Diary
in Antarctica
In November last year, former Prime Minster Sir John Key and his wife, Bronagh, joined a group of passengers on a 12-day expedition cruise to Antarctica. In an exclusive for Herald Travel, he shares his diary of the trip.
Day 1
And so it begins, a two-week trip that starts with a quick visit to Argentina before Bronagh and I set sail to the least populated or visited continent on the planet: Antarctica.
It’s not my first trip to the ice, having been twice before as a politician. Nevertheless, I am as full of excitement and anticipation as I was before my first visit. Antarctica is a place that, once, I would never have dared dream of setting foot, let alone thinking that I would have the opportunity to visit three times.
The flight to the Argentinian capital is painless and, having had a great sleep onboard, after landing in Buenos Aires it’s time to do what the locals do. We start dinner at 11 pm and chow down on a feast of juicy, thick steaks and copious quantities of delicious local Malbec.
I should have known this trip would have 3kg written all over it.
Day 2
We wake up to a nice day in the capital and are off for a half-day tour of the sights. You can’t help but like Buenos Aires. It has a touch of Europe woven through its architecture and is remarkably clean for a city that’s poor and densely populated.
The first thing that strikes you as odd, is the exchange rate. When I’m a tourist, I’m used to paying double for everything. It’s just the way things go in many countries when you are a visitor. However, here in Argentina, locals are so desperate for US dollars, you in effect pay half.
Dinner last night, which in London would require a small mortgage, was just over NZ$300 and that was for eight of us. The tour guide is great. She’s has a sense of humour as dry as Chris Finlayson’s and the tour which takes us all over the city, is genuinely interesting.
If you learn nothing else in Buenos Aires, it’s that Maradona and Messi would give Taylor Swift a run for her money when it comes to stardom.
We finish the afternoon with a visit to the Recoleta Cemetery . Who would have thought we would pay to go to a cemetery? Not me, yet we do and after 30 minutes, we find the final resting place of Eva Peron. In the evening, we are off to dinner and a display of vigorous tango.
I’m grateful not to be invited on stage. I may no longer be in politics but, somehow, I imagine that if I’d been required to put my best foot forward, pictures would somehow end up in the New Zealand Herald.
Day 3
We board our flight to Ushuaia. Officially, it’s the southern-most town on the planet and, as such, not a place I ever anticipated passing through, but we arrive and are bussed to our hotel for an excellent dinner of those international staples, burgers and fries. Okay, some people had the salad but, anticipating that I will be seasick for the next two days, and not wanting to see decaying lettuce for a second time, I think “what the hell”, and tuck in.
Day 4
When we awake, it’s snowing in a way you would celebrate if you were running a ski field at Coronet Peak. I, however, am not running a ski field at Coronet Peak. I am an anxious passenger facing a potentially rough sea crossing, and it’s supposed to be summer. Every snowflake feels ominous. We don’t board the ship until 2.30pm so after a little shopping in the main street which is like a Kiwi ski town from 70 years ago, we head off for lunch at the iconic Freddie’s for a feed of the local delicacy: crab.
Again, part of me is convinced that, like the burger from last night, it won’t be the last time I see this particular crustacean but all the other intrepid travellers in our group are eating and there is nothing like peer pressure, so I join in.
We board the bright blue Ocean Albatros. She’s new with a specially-designed hull for tackling icy waters. I don’t mention the Titanic. Our cabin is on Level 7, right by the bridge. It is spacious and more luxurious than I had envisaged.
After a quick settling in, we are off for the safety briefing, and the trip suddenly feels very real. At 5pm we set sail into the Beagle Channel, which is mercifully calm and makes for a good start, but everyone knows the legendary Drake Passage is ahead of us. Arguably, it’s the roughest stretch of water in the world where three oceans collide. It is famous, but not in a good way and especially not for a landlubber like me.
Day 5
We awake to moderate seas. It’s not the Drake lake, but it’s not the Drake shake, either. I feel fine.
No sign of the lettuce, or the crustacean. Mind you, I have ingested all the recommended sea sickness remedies and still have so many more with me, I could supply Pharmac for a year.
We try breakfast, and it’s like all the meals onboard. Expansive, inviting, tasty.
There are various lectures from the multi-national expedition team, led by Diego from Ushuaia who is knowledgeable and genuinely interesting on the geography and ecosystems in this remote part of the world.
My turn to talk comes at 5 pm. The guests settle in for a libation and a chat.
Rachel the chief organiser, tour guide and CEO of Viva, peppers me with questions from my childhood, to my time as Prime Minister. It seems to go well and, after nearly two hours which pass quickly for me and I hope for the guests, it’s dinner time.
Day 6
We wake up and see our first iceberg. The weather is calmer and the word is that we will get to Antarctica by the afternoon, in time for an excursion ashore.
We remain on course and are directed to the mudroom to kit up.
It’s not a quick process but the crew patiently reassure us that we will get faster at it. Fully kitted, I feel like a cross between the Michelin man and an astronaut.
Still, it’s literally freezing outside and the memories of how cold it can get, come flooding back. We are ferried off the ship on black Zodiacs. The destination is Barrientos Island. It’s our first look at penguins and as we trudge through the snow on a grey and overcast day I look back at the ship at anchor, surrounded by icebergs, and think this really is a magical place .
That said, the penguin rookeries stink.
Day 7
We awaken to a brighter day and, after breakfast, it’s off to the mudroom once again to get fully suited and booted for the morning excursion. Today, we are going on a zodiac cruise in Foyn Harbour.
This is real Antarctica. There are rugged icebergs and massive ice and glacial features as far as the eye can see. It is absolutely spectacular. Our expedition guide, Connie, asks if we want the real Antarctic experience. “Sure,” we respond and, with that, she cuts the engine. We float in silence, absorbed by the tranquility and beauty of our surroundings. There is nowhere like it.
By the time we get back to the ship for lunch, everyone is buzzing. The trepidation of tackling the Drake Passage feels like a distant memory. This is so worth the challenge of getting here. This afternoon the second of our daily excursions takes us to Portal Point, our first official landing on the Antarctic Continent. Some of the guests have gone snow shoeing - code for walking up a big hill with tennis racquets on your feet. Others are out in kayaks. Bronagh and I, on the other hand, settle for a good old-fashioned snowball fight with some other guests. Local rules dictate this can’t happen if any wildlife inhabit the area, but lucky for us Penguins haven’t called this spot home so its snowballs to the ready.
Day 8
This morning we are off to Cuverville - home to more penguins than a polar bear could eat, not that there are polar bears here. They are Arctic, not Antarctic, creatures. The penguins look cute in their natural habitat and we keep to the rule of being no closer than 5 metres and giving them right of way.
I’m really not sure what they do all day when they aren’t sitting on a nest, eating, or poohing, but the answer seems to be walking on the penguin highways they form.
In the afternoon, we are off to Skontorp Cove and Brown Station but, first, I raised the Viva flag on the ship. Shame it wasn’t the alternative flag that I still wish New Zealand had adopted, I say, which gets a polite laugh from the dozen or so hardy souls who have braved the cold to watch the ceremony.
Rachel and Tara, who are on the boat from Viva, beam with pride like new mothers, so it’s job done.
The cove is a pretty place, but I will remember it most for the massive chunk of ice that falls off the shoreline cliff and crashes into the ocean while we are there. It’s why the guides are careful never to get to close to the shore in the Zodiacs. The noise of the ice collapsing is deafening.
Day 9
Today, we moor in Paradise Bay at a place called Lockroy Station.
It’s a couple of huts run by the UK Antarctica Trust. It operates only in summer and is home to, amongst other things, a post office! I can never find one when I need one in Auckland, but there’s one right here. However, because of the fear of spreading avian bird flu, we can’t go ashore here. No problem for the guys from customer service who come to us, complete with souvenirs to buy and postcards to be delivered.
The nice man says they will deliver to anywhere in the world, although it might take three, six or nine months. No one is really sure. It makes NZ Post seem efficient and, I suspect, is more profitable.
But today, the day belongs not to the continent but to the ocean because today is Polar Plunge Day.
The title says it all. You have the opportunity, of your own free will, to jump off the ship into the sub- zero water of the Southern Ocean, while the crew play “should I stay or should I go”, from the ghetto blaster in the mudroom. About two thirds of the guests take the plunge and while I am watching from Deck 8, I am cheerfully reminded of the promo video I did saying I couldn’t wait to get in. “Bloody, social media,” I think, as I head off to our cabin to don my bright green swimming trunks.
Tara, coincidentally dressed in a matching lime green ballet dress, decides one jump isn’t madness enough for her so joins me for a second go.
As I stand on the edge of the Zodiac, I scream, “Party Vote National” and leap. If those are the last words I ever utter, I hope the National Party knows I was dedicated til my last breath.
The water is absolutely freezing. Yes, that’s what I expected but still, it is absolutely freezing. Prudently, the crew have attached we jumpers to the boat by a bungee chord - just in case we literally freeze or have a cardiac arrest or, God forbid, end up as lunch for an Orca.
None of those happen. The shock and trauma are quickly over, I feel invigorated and after an obligatory nip of vodka, it’s upstairs to a sumptuous BBQ outdoor lunch to bask in the glory of having taken the plunge, and to bask in the relief of having survived it.
Day 10
We are getting to the end of the trip. The days have flashed by and this morning we spend time at Whalers Bay which, to this day, has the remnants of what was once a barbaric and brutal slaughter of Antarctic whales.
Their bones scatter the shoreline and I am grateful that industry is behind us, at least down here.
In the afternoon, it’s a shortened stop on Elephant Point, home to the biggest elephant seals you could ever see.
It’s fascinating but we can’t stay long as the Captain doesn’t like the way the weather is shaping up for the return trip through the Drake Passage and one thing you realise on board this ship is that passenger safety and comfort takes precedence, so it’s not long before we are sailing towards home.
Day 11
It’s rougher than the voyage down. Tonight, a couple of 7 metre waves crash into the ship, sending stuff in our cabin airborne, but for the most part it’s fine, and not as bad as I thought it might be. We are lucky to be on a ship with amazing stabilisers and a captain from Ukraine whose skill and seamanship belies the fact he’s not yet 40.
Day 12
The storm has arrived so we are grateful of the protection of the Beagle Channel as we arrive back in Ushuaia.
The cruise is over, and I immediately have a three-hour Zoom call with the board of London clients.
As I dial in, my muscle memory floods back. The 12 days of being an intrepid traveller starts to fade, replaced by the business guy, but not before I reflect on why I said yes to this remarkable voyage.
Everyone who has the opportunity to visit Antarctica, should go. Its grandeur, beauty and grace are incomparable. In a hectic and polluted world, it remains one of the few places on Earth that feels not only genuinely tranquil but importantly unspoiled.
We were looked after so well by our Viva guides, Rachel and Tara. They know this continent well, love returning to it and do everything with ease and a smile. My advice, other than to Party Vote National is take the leap. If you can put Antarctica on your bucket list, take the plunge. You will remember it for the rest of your life.
