SPIRIT OF THE NORTH

I’M NOT SURE I’ve ever experienced sharper regret than in the fraction of a second between leaping from a boat platform and hitting the surface of the Arctic Ocean. The drop was only six feet or so, but that was long enough for my brain to respond to the sight of dark, ice-strewn water flying up to meet me by shrieking, “You should not have done this!” Too late. I was doing a polar plunge.

I was on the Silver Cloud, a Silversea Cruises expedition ship that carries 254 passengers—though for polar sailings, it’s capped at 200, in an effort to prevent overcrowding during shore excursions. We were anchored in Markison Fjord, an inlet on the eastern coast of Ellesmere Island in the Canadian Arctic Archipelago. This was midway through a 16-day voyage hopscotching up the western coast of Greenland and into the northeastern extremes of Canada in pursuit of starkly spectacular, rapidly changing landscapes, rare wildlife, glimpses into local cultures, and, apparently, freezing cold water. Thin membranes of new ice floated like transparent lily pads between the white bits and bergs calved from a nearby glacier. When I hit, the cold seized me like a full-body ice cream headache. I was wearing a safety harness, and as soon as I surfaced, a crew member started hauling me in like a big, cold, sputtering fish. Above, more prudent passengers hung over their balconies, taking pictures.

Once I was out, I felt fiery and supercharged. My friend Nicholas, who was travelling with me, had also jumped. The two of us were handed shots of bourbon as we hustled upstairs to the outdoor pool, which