Last austral summer over 100,000 tourists visited Antartica.

Antarctic tourism is growing rapidly, and many people are wondering whether they should go - or whether anyone should.

I’ve been working as a guide in Antarctica since 2016, and this is what I think . . .

New research released on March 29, 2023 showed that freshwater from melting glaciers will slow down Antarctic overturning circulation, with a potential collapse this century. For many people, this news was both alarming and difficult to understand. So what does this mean, and why does it matter?

Sharon and I first met around the summer of 2017 on the lush, green lawns of the University of Wollongong. She had generously invited me, a green Antarctic enthusiast, polar guide and lover of moss, to visit her lab and learn more about her research into how a changing climate is impacting Antarctica’s tiny forests.

An Antarctic advocate, polar-devotee and multi-skilled scicomms phenom, Marlo’s work is infused with a deep love for the planet, scientific endeavour and the tricky fun of bundling this up for the public in a powerful, accessible way. Read her reflections on the process and passion of communicating science to the public.

A few weeks ago a friend, who’s a postdoctoral research fellow with a passion for polar science, asked me a few questions about Scicomm. It was fun to think about this, and I’m posting my responses here in case they can help anyone else who’s wondering the same things.

Antarctica is often portrayed as a surreal and otherworldly continent. A desolate and indomitable white wasteland somehow sealed off from the rest of the planet.

While this may be one of many coexisting and contradictory truths about Antarctica, and a legitimate way of viewing the deep South, it doesn't tell the whole story. And I'm not sure it's particularly helpful.

To love without knowing how to love wounds the ones we love - Thich Nhat Hanh 

Back in 2018 I spent a couple of weeks working in South Georgia, a subantarctic island in the Scotia Sea. Breeding season was in full swing and the beaches were seething with fur seals . . .

In the 2019–20 summer, before the world turned inside out, I worked alongside expedition guide, historian and writer Nina Gallo. Our weeks aboard took us to the magical corner of the world that is the Antarctic Peninsula, South Georgia and the Falkland Islands. Nina is a generous guide and lecturer with a sparkling personality and a deep passion for nature.

I’m thinking things, like: How beautiful, the pale blossoms glowing in the sweep of the headlights as I turn into the driveway. Their heady perfume as I walk to the front door. The felt knowledge of the path.

The Antarctic ice sheet is the biggest reservoir of freshwater on Earth. It is a huge, thick blanket of ice that flows slowly over and around mountains, filling the valleys and canyons underneath. The Antarctic ice sheet covers around 14 million square kilometres – almost twice the size of Australia! Almost all of Antarctica (98 percent) is completely covered in ice.

As visitors, we can only go to Antarctica during the summer, which is October to March. This is because during the winter Antarctica is surrounded by sea ice, making it very hard to get there. It’s also dark most of the time, and pretty quiet wildlife-wise, so the short answer to your question is . . .

What I remember from my dream last night. We were in a field, maybe a school playground. Just a few of us. There were big buildings nearby. Something happened, we all noticed. I don’t know what it was.

An asymmetrical egg. Have you ever seen one? It’s odd, no? Because the regular shape of an egg is this: it’s an oval (the word oval actually comes from the Latin ovum: egg).

The rain came a day late, as usual these days. There are a few theories as to why.

I am so tired at the moment that last night, while I was sleeping, I dreamt of sleeping.

My mind is elsewhere these days. It’s hard to write, so I don’t. Actually, it’s hard to sit down in front of the computer. Who knows about the writing, really, because I haven’t tried in a while. I have lists though . . .

Right now, if I can wake up and water the garden; go for a walk, the sun on my skin; say no thanks to the offer of climbing, instead lying down with The Invention of Nature before falling asleep on the rug . . .

Row, row, row your boat . . . This morning I put on a load of washing and went to the supermarket.

Yesterday I went to Sydney to spend mother’s day with my mum and grandma. It was a warm day filled with quiet gratitude. Familiar house plants and the comfort of pottery I’ve known since I was old enough to see.