The Seventh Continent A Journey to Antarctica

In December 2022, my husband and I boarded the ship Le Lyrial in Ushuaia, Argentina, a town known as the "end of the world." We spent the next two weeks visiting South Georgia, the Falklands, and Antarctica.

When most people think of traveling that far south on the planet, they imagine ice and snow, a land of whites and muted greys. And yes, parts of the journey included those frozen landscapes. But parts included brilliant turquoise waters, deep green grasses, and warm golden light.

Ordinary Lives in Extraordinary Places

The animals of South Georgia, the Falklands, and Antarctica have adapted to survive in some of the remotest, harshest environments on Earth. And yet, their daily lives look remarkably like the lives of creatures around the planet. Like our lives. Raising families. Feeding. Scratching itches. Stretching. Strolling. Resting. Getting on with the business of living, nevermind the tourists and their cameras.

Well, we didn't always go unnoticed. Every now and then, they'd give us the look: "What are you staring at me for??"

The number of penguins and their profound beauty was overwhelming.

A chaos of king penguins

The colony was full of molting juveniles, who were in various states of shedding their fluffy brown coats for the sleek lines and colors of adulthood.

A trio of king penguins

The elegant lines of a king penguin in the rain.

A Noisy Bunch

Though the locations were remote, they were anything but quiet. Fur seals, elephant seals, gentoo, king, and chinstrap penguins—they all had a lot to say.

A Landscape Marked by its History

Remnants of the whaling industry included wrecked ships, rusty chains, and bone-strewn beaches.

A chinstrap penguin makes his way down a bone-strewn beach.

Ice Sculptures

As we traveled on, the grasses and bare mountains gave over to the land of ice. Islands of abstract, sculptural beauty. I could have happily spent months capturing the endlessly diverse forms of icebergs. We even lucked into seeing the largest remaining piece of the iceberg known as A-76, the largest iceberg on Earth. A-76A, the part we saw, is still more than 80 miles long and 15 miles wide—larger than the state of Maryland. In the early light of dawn, it was a surreal reminder of our fragile planet and the effects of climate change.

A portion of iceberg A-76A, and a splash from side of our ship.

Vast Spaces and Endless Beauty

The Moment that Almost Made Me Drop My Camera

One afternoon we were out on small Zodiacs, zooming around to see icebergs and search for wildlife. The wildlife found us. Two humpback whales circled and investigated our little boats for at least 20 minutes. Adult humpback whales range from 40 to 50 feet long—a number that is meaningless until that giant body is gliding under your small watercraft, close enough to touch. My brain froze, but fortunately it was only a jaw-dropping (not camera-dropping) moment. I may have temporarily forgotten how to operate my camera's buttons, but I will never forget the experience.

A humpback whale surfacing just feet away from our small Zodiac. In my brain freeze moment, this out-of-focus photo was all I got.

Playing with Light and Motion

Intentional overexposure to capture the penguins in stark relief against the snow.

Using intentional camera movement, I transformed a colony of king penguins into abstract art.

Intentional camera movement and king penguins.

When sun and rain collide.

The Great White Continent—Adventure of a Lifetime

Since I was a child, I've wanted to visit all seven continents, and with this trip, I've officially fulfilled that dream. As our ship heaved through the swells of the Southern Ocean, I thought of the early explorers who faced those challenging conditions without the aid of the technology and comforts we have today. I am inspired by the human spirit. Our ability to be curious, to dream, to seek, to persevere. And yes, the human spirit has also pushed species to the brink of extinction, has damaged the oceans and the land. But we've also shown we can learn. We've changed. We've worked together to protect the diverse life on our planet and the ecosystems that support it. If you find any beauty in these photos, may it inspire you to do more to protect this one precious Earth.

It's not too late.

Many thanks to the incredible naturalists, historians, geologists, and other experts who enhanced our journey with enrichment lectures and a never-flagging willingness to answer our questions. And thanks to the crew of Le Lyrial for flawless service. From presenting delicious food to entertaining us with live piano music to ensuring I never lacked for champagne, you made every moment on the ship a joy. And to my husband, Michael, who helps make all my dreams come true.

About the Photographer

I'm Jillisa Hope Milner, a writer, editor, photographer, and smiling, coffee-swilling, wandering soul who's currently landed in Williamsburg, Virginia.

I believe that photography can be an act of meditation: it requires us to pay attention to the present moment and see the achingly beautiful, interesting, wild, ugly, and amazing world around us.

The next frame will be different. Pay attention now.

My work has appeared in exhibits at the SoGlo Gallery, Horton Gallery, Goodyear Cottage, Saint Simons Visitor Center, the Old Jail Art Center (McIntosh Art Association), and Glynn Visual Arts, where I've placed several times at the Big Photo Show, including Best in Show. I have been published by National Geographic (Daily Dozen series) and was selected two years by the Georgia Department of Natural Resources to have photos appear in their outdoor exhibit for CoastFest.

Find more of my work on WingsOpen.com, and see it in person at Williamsburg Bazaar.

✨⭐️✨

My first steps on the seventh continent.