100 Books Like Antarctic Navigation

Elizabeth Rush is a beautiful, meditative writer, but she also knows how to swear, which I appreciate. After loving her first book, Rising: Dispatches from the New American Shore, I was delighted to find her next book was about Antarctica.

In a deeply immersive narrative that follows a 2019 research voyage to the Thwaites ‘Doomsday’ Glacier on the American ship Nathaniel B. Palmer, Rush writes honestly and seriously about climate change and how Antarctic ice melt is contributing to global sea level rise, but she’s also hopeful and positive about the future.

There is a parallel narrative thread about motherhood, birth, and her own plans to get pregnant. Unexpected bonus content (and spoiler!)—the book contains probably the best and most honest account of giving birth I’ve ever read. 

This is a powerful book that I devoured over three days, deeply engrossed in both the Antarctic storyline and a back story about McNeil’s extraordinary childhood in another cold place–the Maritimes of eastern Canada. McNeil travels to Antarctica on the British survey and supply ship James Clark Ross then spends the summer at a British base on an island off the Antarctic Peninsula.

She explores Antarctica–with the help of a friendly Twin Otter pilot–but travels inward too, and the story becomes more and more personal as the Antarctic days shorten, and she is hit by a sudden and intense anxiety. Although our Antarctic experiences were very different, I identified deeply with this story, and learned so much from this brilliant writer. 

I loved this book for its engrossing introduction to the history, wildlife, and landscapes of Antarctica and the people who work–and sometimes live–there.

Written by a scientist turned science writer, this book focuses less on the author and more on the people she meets over her five visits to Antarctica, but from the tantalizing glimpses of the author through her responses to the extraordinary places she visits–including South Pole Station–I know she’s someone I would like.

The last chapter of the book focuses on climate change and ice melt, and this is a reminder of how long scientists have been trying to warn us about the dangers of a warming planet.

An ex-boyfriend gave this book to me for Christmas 1997, inscribed ‘I hope this book inspires you’. By 1997, I’d applied–unsuccessfully–to visit Antarctica as a geology research assistant, a PR officer, and a journalist. Meanwhile, the ex who gave me the book was accepted on his first application to film a documentary.

While I envied Wheeler for her successful Antarctic application, I loved the book’s strong narrative and personal reflections, though I didn’t share her fascination for bearded Antarctic geologists (there’s a bit of tent-romance in the book)–I guess I already knew too many of them. I loved what I could glean about Antarctica from this much more personal account of the continent than other books I’d read. 

One of the things that made Scott’s expedition legendary was the photographs. His was the first scientific expedition to include a professional photographer on staff. Herbert Ponting used the cameras and glass plates of his time, and the images are stupendous. This book reproduces all the great ones, images that renovated the human imagination and which you can see to this day imitated in movies and special effects. 

Robert Scott was a failure, and beloved for it. He died like a British hero should, gallantly and writing it up in his journal. He, and the four other men who died with him, are memorialized all over Britain: plaques, statues, museums. Huntford is the first modern historian to kick a hole in that mythology, pointing out the many mistakes that Capt. Scott made that, cumulatively, doomed his quest for the South Pole. Was it really sensible, to put cavalry captain Titus Oates in charge of the ponies but then not let him choose the animals? For that matter, ponies? On a glacier? Huntford contrasts him to Scott’s rival the Norwegian Roald Amundsen, who did everything right, breezed to the Pole with teams of sled dogs, and even gained weight on the way back.

If you like books about epic expeditions, along the lines of Shackleton's Endurance, when the grand explorers of the early twentieth century had yet to reach the most remote regions of the world—books filled with more danger than fiction authors could imagine for a plot—tales of endless grit and survival—then you’ll love Alone on the Ice.

Combining his mountaineering expertise with his writing talent, author David Roberts brings you along with Douglas Mawson and his entire crew on the most incredible polar expedition, a complex story that involves sub-stories about other explorers and expeditions. (Mawson was a crew member on one of Shackleton’s early expeditions who almost reached the South Pole.) Unpacking the details takes a little time, but once you get acquainted with all these incredible people, you won’t put the book down. We modern adventure-seekers have a lot to learn from these pioneers. 

A gripping story… show more.

In an amazing feat of leadership and critical decision-making under the most stressful circumstances imaginable, Ernest Shackleton managed to save his entire crew – despite their ship being crushed in the ice pack of Antarctica. His decisions from start to finish risked everything – hiking to the edge of the sea, sailing one of the ship’s small boats on a voyage to a distant outpost, bringing help back, and saving the crew. His decisions inspired me in the many expeditions I led as a naval officer, none of which were as challenging as what he faced.

This is a gripping account of expeditioner Robert Falcon Scott’s ill-fated expedition to the South Pole. Apsley Cherry-Garrard, one of the youngest members of Scott's team, recorded the experience of this adventure gone disastrously wrong. Despite the horrors that Scott and his men faced along the way, Cherry's account is filled with stories of resilience, belief in the human spirit, and to persevere in the face of adversity, no matter the cost. Through frostbitten flesh, teeth chattering so hard they spontaneously shatter in the cold of the air, to sweat freezing the instant it emerges from the pores – this is not for the faint-hearted. Nonetheless it is certainly one of the most inspiring accounts of developing self-belief and pushing on in the face of brutal setbacks. 

Sancton’s book about the first overwintering in Antarctica is brilliant, captivating, and intense.

I learned a tremendous amount about the region’s flora, fauna, and history and came away with a much greater understanding of Norwegian explorer Roald Amundsen, who survived this horrific and tragic journey in 1897 to become the first man to sail through the Northwest Passage and reach both the South and North Poles.