Life as Antarctica’s Boating Officer: An Extraordinary Role at the Bottom of the World

Antarctica is a place few people will ever have the privilege of visiting. From sub-zero oceans to towering mountains buried beneath ice sheets, the remoteness of this astonishing place means this is unlikely to change anytime soon. Indeed, of the few tourists who do visit, most never set foot on Antarctica, instead observing from the distance of their ship.

Antarctica has no permanent residents. However, a small number of people get to call it home for short stints. During the Antarctic summer – coinciding with the UK’s winter – this population reaches around 10,000. In winter, it drops to just 1,000. Since 2024, I have been one of the fortunate few set to ‘overwinter’ here.

I’m based at Rothera, the British Antarctic Survey’s (BAS) largest research station. Rothera is situated near the Antarctic Peninsula: the stretch of the continent protruding towards South America. We’re on the southernmost tip of Adelaide Island, making us a truly coastal station.

Over 150 people live and work at Rothera each summer. Most of these are operational staff, working to maintain the station, and support a rotating complement of resident and visiting scientists. A large construction team is also on-site, modernising our infrastructure as part of an expansive programme. Many more transit through Rothera, as our 900-metre gravel runway serves as a key gateway to the inner continent.

Through the Antarctic winter, only 40 people remain. The 2025 winter season begins in mid-June and lasts until October. Throughout, sea ice will block access by ships, and the runway will be snowed under. We will only have remote-contact with the outside world. The reduced team works to ensure the station’s upkeep, while continuing to collect data for ongoing science projects.

Rothera is one of only two BAS stations with a marine programme. As the station’s Boating Officer, I oversee the safe and efficient operation of our small boats, supporting scientific research, station safety, and even recreational activities.

Rothera only employs one Boating Officer. My role requires me to wear three distinct hats, of coxswain, instructor, and technician. As a coxswain, I take the boats out nearly every day, often multiple times per day. As an instructor, I train station staff to an advanced level in safe boat operations. As a technician, I diagnose, service, and maintain our fleet. The role overall requires a high degree of self-management – balancing the needs of scientists with the fleet’s requirements isn’t always straightforward.

We have a fleet of four open RIBs. Many people are surprised that we don’t have indoor space, or larger boats. The reality is that we require lots of deck space for dive operations, which precludes a wheelhouse, and RIBs are ideal for dampening wave impacts, especially important in Rothera’s short chop. Nonetheless, going out without a hat and buff isn’t a mistake you make twice.

A pair of Island RIBs are our main workhorses. Their efficient hull design and robust construction make them perfect for transporting people and equipment efficiently. Speed is often a necessity, given the station’s demanding workload. Twin Mercury Command Thrust 115hp outboards power these boats, allowing them to return at a speed of 25 knots on a single engine – potentially crucial in a dive emergency.

Supporting the Island RIBs are two smaller, 6-metre Humber RIBs. Before 2019, these were the largest boats in our fleet, thus are highly capable, manoeuvrable and, frankly, fun to drive. Powered by twin Mercury Mariner 60hp outboards, they navigate even dense ice and heavy sea states with ease.

Every boat is fitted with a fixed Raymarine chartplotter. These are connected to GNSS, AIS (receivers and transponders) and through-hull depth transducers. C-MAP charts are loaded into them, enabling navigation similar to that in the UK. Despite being at high latitudes, GNSS fixes are generally good, with typical accuracy of or below 0.7 metres.

All servicing and maintenance is carried out on-site. Sending a boat to a UK marine mechanic is neither practical nor quick, so we reserve that option for serious issues or scheduled refits. Engines accumulate hours quickly, requiring regular and thorough servicing. Over summer, our boats accumulate 100 engine hours every two to three months, triggering a few hours’ servicing. Less frequently—though typically once a year—engines reach another 300 hours, necessitating more extensive work. The boatshed’s shelves are bursting with spares and repair kits, so changing a part is rarely an issue.

The Antarctic cold presents unique challenges. Water freezes in compartments, grills, and speakers – a real inconvenience when these components are essential for the radio or bilge pump. Washing down boats at the end of the day can turn into an exercise in ice management.

The high-quality of our servicing is proven by the excellent condition of the 10-15 year old Humber RIBs – a testament to the dedication of previous Boating Officers and the support BAS provides.

We launch our boats from Rothera’s recently modernised wharf. Frequently shared with large ships, including the RRS Sir David Attenborough, launching and recovering from the wharf is an unusual operation. The main tool is the Palfinger crane, permanently installed next to our launch site. Operating this is a fine art, the mastery of which came to me slower than nearly every other aspect of my job.

While our boating area is strictly limited, it is more than sufficient for work and recreation. We primarily operate in Ryder Bay, enclosed by the Laubeuf Fjord. In the north of the bay, mountains provide an imposing backdrop. From land, they appear small, barely protruding from vast ice sheets, but from the water, their true scale is apparent. To the west, glaciers slope down to the sea, flowing around rocky peaks. These glaciers are retreating (I’ve boated over areas that were glaciated very recently) and their occasional calving sends massive ice chunks crashing into the water, creating dramatic waves and immense amounts of noise.

The southern extent of our boating area is dotted with islands. Leonie, the largest, stands hundreds of metres tall. Travelling behind it feels like you’re as far from humanity as it’s possible to be in a RIB. We’ve been lucky that the narrow passage hasn’t become clogged with ice much this season. Lagoon Island, to the east of Leonie, has a small hut where station staff can take short breaks. We frequently ferry people to and from ‘island holidays.’ Expedition cruise liners often visit Lagoon – island guests sometimes find their mini-breaks interrupted by tourists also enjoying the island.

We share our boating area with a huge number of native species. Working in the UK, I felt lucky to spot a seal or dolphin—but here I feel robbed if I don’t see a whale or seal while afloat.

Seals and penguins are by far our most common animals. Penguins enjoy congregating at the rock armour at the end of our runway. Here, they stand around, periodically swimming to find food. Seals spend more time on ice than land. They are mostly indifferent to humans, although Weddell seals will often check us out, and Fur seals have been known to hiss and bark at those nearing their territory.

We get more than our fair share of whales, too. Humpbacks account for our most frequent sightings, as they criss-cross the bay, feeding on krill. Nearly any day that we want to find one, we can. In the space of an hour, I’ve seen well over five separate humpbacks without having to seek them out.

Orca and Leopard seals are our most impressive animals, but also one of our greatest risks. They are the Antarctic’s apex predators, and it is evident why. Leopard seals are enormous, with heads that dwarf those of other seal species, and muscular bodies, obviously adapted for catching prey (though they mostly eat krill, a shrimp-like organism). Our Orca (recently featured by the BBC) are highly intelligent, moving as a pod to generate powerful waves, washing seals from their ice. Even from the safety of a RIB, Orca swimming beneath us was unsettling. BAS policy is not to dive when Orca or Leopard seals are around, and to pull divers from the water if they are sighted mid-dive.

Rothera’s marine programme revolves around diving. We are one of few Antarctic operators running a year-round diving operation. In summer, divers explore a variety of sites, from rocky cliff faces to isolated pinnacles and sheltered coves. In winter, sea ice restricts access, but once it thickens enough for safe travel, we cut ice holes with chainsaws to allow scientific work to continue.

Diving incidents here have the potential of serious consequences. We have a hyperbaric chamber on-site – a crucial piece of equipment if a diver were to experience decompression illness. Ironically, divers are far closer to a chamber here than they would be nearly anywhere else in the world.

We also deploy scientific instruments. These include CTD (conductivity, temperature, and depth) probes, which contribute to the Rothera Time Series, an oceanographic dataset begun in 1997. These CTDs drop to between 200 and 500 metres, before being recovered by hand-winch. This is quite an arm-workout, and has become a time-trialled station competition.

Our resident Marine Biologist manages several of her own projects. She is responsible in particular for BRUVS (baited underwater video system) surveys. These use action cameras to capture marine life interactions, studying species and feeding patterns, forming part of a wider scientific initiative.

Recreational boating plays a crucial role in station life. Despite Antarctica’s remoteness, Rothera is densely populated. Our summer population density exceeds Central London. Getting off station is essential for well-being, and boating offers a valuable escape. Nearly every weekend, we run trips exploring the islands, watching whales, and navigating ice – a privilege of the job, and a pleasure in our environment.

We wouldn’t be able to facilitate all of our activities without support from outside of the marine team. A large part of my role is delivering bespoke training to staff – effectively running the southernmost powerboat training centre in the world. We have formal training syllabi, but because of our dynamic environment, each Boating Officer makes their own alterations. I deliver crew courses near-weekly to overwintering staff, with the goal of developing them into capable search and rescue coxswains over time.

Ice is the main difference between Antarctic and UK boating. Ice travels rapidly across our boating area, ‘icing-in’ constricted passages and coves with little warning. However, ice movements are predictable. Typically moving with the wind (as currents here are minimal), small, light pieces move faster than larger, heavier ones. Invariably, downwind areas become inaccessible, so daily planning accounts for this.

We can deal with moderately ‘brashy’ conditions. In fact, our launch site is frequently ice-filled. The keels of our boats are reinforced with Kevlar or steel plating, which means we can push through ice fields. We use just one outboard in ice, so we have one stationary, protected propeller. When turning in ice, we leave the outside engine in neutral – less efficient for turning, but means the spinning propeller receives some protection.

Over winter, we do true ice breaking. Our boats can still make way in the period between sea ice forming and hardening. We drive the boats at the ice, to the point where the bow rides onto the sheet. Eventually, the weight of the bow forces through the ice, allowing us to proceed forwards. This method of travel requires a lot of forwards and reverse power, a great deal of concentration, and is painfully slow.

Icebergs frequently appear in our boating area and often determine whether some areas are open. The heuristic is to stay two times the height of the iceberg from its foot. We do this not just to avoid the risk of rolling, but also to avoid calving sheets of ice. This is especially important on warm, sunny days when cracks and imperfections are further weakened. Even huge icebergs split apart without warning, often causing a dramatic and potentially dangerous roll. Smaller bergs and ‘bergy bits’ can be pushed away if they are causing an obstruction or endangering divers. It is astonishing how large an iceberg a RIB can push.

Antarctica is the coldest and driest continent. We are also, technically, a desert. Without respect for it, the environment would be incredibly dangerous. The Met Office seconds two forecasters down each season. They brief us every morning, allowing us to plan our days accordingly. Their forecasts are really accurate – far more so than most apps and online services.

Winds are mostly from the North and favourable. Even with stronger winds, we rarely experience significant swells because of the protective geographies of Ryder Bay. However, the wind can be exceptionally strong. Stormy days frequently cause gusts of well over 60 knots–the strongest wind ever recorded in Antarctica was over 170 knots.

Snow is the main weather issue at the station. Once Antarctic summer is over, snow will begin settling again. Everything on the ground will be buried. This includes buildings, of which you would be able to walk between the rooftops if snow was left to build. To avoid driving over important structures, everything is marked with flags once the snow is deep enough to support them.

While my 15-month deployment means missing Christmas, birthdays, and holidays, I don’t regret a second of it. The privilege of living and working in this extraordinary environment more than makes up for the sacrifices. For anyone considering it, I can say without hesitation: working in Antarctica is an experience like no other. And, of course, the Boating Officer job is the best on the continent!

Ollie 🙂