Latest news with #InternationalAssociationofAntarcticaTourOperators
Japan Today
8 hours ago
- Japan Today
More and more tourists are flocking to Antarctica. Let's stop it from being loved to death
By Darla Hatton MacDonald and Elizabeth Leane The number of tourists heading to Antarctica has been skyrocketing. From fewer than 8,000 a year about three decades ago, nearly 125,000 tourists flocked to the icy continent in 2023–24. The trend is likely to continue in the long term. Unchecked tourism growth in Antarctica risks undermining the very environment that draws visitors. This would be bad for operators and tourists. It would also be bad for Antarctica – and the planet. Over the past two weeks, the nations that decide what human activities are permitted in Antarctica have convened in Italy. The meeting incorporates discussions by a special working group that aims to address tourism issues. It's not easy to manage tourist visitors to a continent beyond any one country's control. So, how do we stop Antarctica being loved to death? The answer may lie in economics. Future visitor trends We recently modelled future visitor trends in Antarctica. A conservative scenario shows by 2033–34, visitor numbers could reach around 285,000. Under the least conservative scenario, numbers could reach 450,000 – however, this figure incorporates pent-up demand from COVID shutdowns that will likely diminish. The vast majority of the Antarctic tourism industry comprises cruise-ship tourism in the Antarctic Peninsula. A small percentage of visitors travel to the Ross Sea region and parts of the continent's interior. Antarctic tourism is managed by an international set of agreements together known as the Antarctic Treaty System, as well as the International Association of Antarctica Tour Operators (IAATO). The Treaty System is notoriously slow-moving and riven by geopolitics, and IAATO does not have the power to cap visitor numbers. Pressure on a fragile continent About two-thirds of Antarctic tourists land on the continent. The visitors can threaten fragile ecosystems by: compacting soils trampling fragile vegetation introducing non-native microbes and plant species disturbing breeding colonies of birds and seals. Even when cruise ships don't dock, they can cause problems such as air, water and noise pollution – as well as anchoring that can damage the seabed. Then there's carbon emissions. Each cruise ship traveller to Antarctica typically produces between 3.2 and 4.1 tonnes of carbon, not including travel to the port of departure. This is similar to the carbon emissions an average person produces in a year. Global warming caused by carbon emissions is damaging Antarctica. At the Peninsula region, glaciers and ice shelves are retreating and sea ice is shrinking, affecting wildlife and vegetation. Of course, Antarctic tourism represents only a tiny fraction of overall emissions. However, the industry has a moral obligation to protect the place that maintains it. And tourism in Antarctica can compound damage from climate change, tipping delicate ecosystems into decline. Some operators use hybrid ships and less polluting fuels, and offset emissions to offer carbon-neutral travel. IAATO has pledged to halve emissions by 2050 – a positive step. Can economics protect Antarctica? Market-based tools – such as taxes, cap-and-trade schemes and certification – have been used in environmental management around the world. Research shows these tools could also prevent Antarctic tourist numbers from getting out of control. One option is requiring visitors to pay a tourism tax. This would help raise revenue to support environmental monitoring and enforcement in Antarctica, as well as fund research. Such a tax already exists in the small South Asian nation of Bhutan, where each tourist pays a tax of U.S.$100 a night. But while a tax might deter the budget-conscious, it probably wouldn't deter high income, experience-driven tourists. Alternatively, a cap-and-trade system would create a limited number of Antarctica visitor permits for a fixed period. The initial distribution of permits could be among tourism operators or countries, via negotiation, auction or lottery. Unused permits could then be sold, making them quite valuable. Caps have been successful at managing tourism impacts elsewhere, such as Lord Howe Island, although there are no trades allowed in that system. Any cap on tourist numbers in Antarctica, and rules for trading, must be based on evidence about what the environment can handle. But there is a lack of precise data on Antarctica's carrying capacity. And permit allocations amongst the operators and nations would need to be fair and inclusive. Alternatively, existing industry standards could be augmented with independent schemes certifying particular practices – for example, reducing carbon footprints. This could be backed by robust monitoring and enforcement to avoid greenwashing. Looking ahead Given the complexities of Antarctic governance, our research finds that the most workable solution is a combination of these market-based options, alongside other regulatory measures. So far, parties to the Antarctic treaty have made very few binding rules for the tourism industry. And some market-based levers will be more acceptable to the parties than others. But doing nothing is not a solution. The authors would like to acknowledge Valeria Senigaglia, Natalie Stoeckl and Jing Tian and the rest of the team for their contributions to the research upon which this article was based. Darla Hatton MacDonald is Professor of Environmental Economics, University of Tasmania. Elizabeth Leane is Professor of Antarctic Studies, School of Humanities, University of Tasmania. The Conversation is an independent and nonprofit source of news, analysis and commentary from academic experts. External Link © The Conversation
The Print
05-07-2025
- The Print
Antarctica is the new tourist hotspot. Stop it from being loved to death
Over the past two weeks, the nations that decide what human activities are permitted in Antarctica have convened in Italy . The meeting incorporates discussions by a special working group that aims to address tourism issues. Unchecked tourism growth in Antarctica risks undermining the very environment that draws visitors. This would be bad for operators and tourists. It would also be bad for Antarctica – and the planet. The number of tourists heading to Antarctica has been skyrocketing. From fewer than 8,000 a year about three decades ago, nearly 125,000 tourists flocked to the icy continent in 2023–24. The trend is likely to continue in the long term. It's not easy to manage tourist visitors to a continent beyond any one country's control. So, how do we stop Antarctica being loved to death? The answer may lie in economics. Future visitor trends We recently modelled future visitor trends in Antarctica. A conservative scenario shows by 2033–34, visitor numbers could reach around 285,000. Under the least conservative scenario, numbers could reach 450,000 – however, this figure incorporates pent-up demand from COVID shutdowns that will likely diminish. The vast majority of the Antarctic tourism industry comprises cruise-ship tourism in the Antarctic Peninsula. A small percentage of visitors travel to the Ross Sea region and parts of the continent's interior. Antarctic tourism is managed by an international set of agreements together known as the Antarctic Treaty System, as well as the International Association of Antarctica Tour Operators (IAATO). The Treaty System is notoriously slow-moving and riven by geopolitics, and IAATO does not have the power to cap visitor numbers. Pressure on a fragile continent About two-thirds of Antarctic tourists land on the continent. The visitors can threaten fragile ecosystems by: compacting soils trampling fragile vegetation introducing non-native microbes and plant species disturbing breeding colonies of birds and seals. Even when cruise ships don't dock, they can cause problems such as air, water and noise pollution – as well as anchoring that can damage the seabed. Then there's carbon emissions. Each cruise ship traveller to Antarctica typically produces between 3.2 and 4.1 tonnes of carbon, not including travel to the port of departure. This is similar to the carbon emissions an average person produces in a year. Global warming caused by carbon emissions is damaging Antarctica. At the Peninsula region, glaciers and ice shelves are retreating and sea ice is shrinking, affecting wildlife and vegetation. Of course, Antarctic tourism represents only a tiny fraction of overall emissions. However, the industry has a moral obligation to protect the place that maintains it. And tourism in Antarctica can compound damage from climate change, tipping delicate ecosystems into decline. Some operators use hybrid ships and less polluting fuels, and offset emissions to offer carbon-neutral travel. IAATO has pledged to halve emissions by 2050 – a positive step, but far short of the net-zero targets set by the International Maritime Organization. Can economics protect Antarctica? Market-based tools – such as taxes, cap-and-trade schemes and certification – have been used in environmental management around the world. Research shows these tools could also prevent Antarctic tourist numbers from getting out of control. One option is requiring visitors to pay a tourism tax. This would help raise revenue to support environmental monitoring and enforcement in Antarctica, as well as fund research. Such a tax already exists in the small South Asian nation of Bhutan, where each tourist pays a tax of US$100 (A$152) a night. But while a tax might deter the budget-conscious, it probably wouldn't deter high income, experience-driven tourists. Alternatively, a cap-and-trade system would create a limited number of Antarctica visitor permits for a fixed period. The initial distribution of permits could be among tourism operators or countries, via negotiation, auction or lottery. Unused permits could then be sold, making them quite valuable. Caps have been successful at managing tourism impacts elsewhere, such as Lord Howe Island, although there are no trades allowed in that system. Any cap on tourist numbers in Antarctica, and rules for trading, must be based on evidence about what the environment can handle. But there is a lack of precise data on Antarctica's carrying capacity. And permit allocations amongst the operators and nations would need to be fair and inclusive. Alternatively, existing industry standards could be augmented with independent schemes certifying particular practices – for example, reducing carbon footprints. This could be backed by robust monitoring and enforcement to avoid greenwashing. Looking ahead Given the complexities of Antarctic governance, our research finds that the most workable solution is a combination of these market-based options, alongside other regulatory measures. So far, parties to the Antarctic treaty have made very few binding rules for the tourism industry. And some market-based levers will be more acceptable to the parties than others. But doing nothing is not a solution. The authors would like to acknowledge Valeria Senigaglia, Natalie Stoeckl and Jing Tian and the rest of the team for their contributions to the research upon which this article was based. Darla Hatton MacDonald, Professor of Environmental Economics, University of Tasmania and Elizabeth Leane, Professor of Antarctic Studies, School of Humanities, University of Tasmania This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Daily Mail
27-04-2025
- Daily Mail
I travelled to Antarctica and the wildlife was amazing - but the costly £10k trip included some dangerous surprises
Antarctica, with its gleaming icebergs, crystalline waters and stupendous wildlife - from minke whales to Gentoo penguins - has become the adventure destination of choice for high-wealth individuals in recent years. The average cost of a trip to this hard-to-reach corner of the globe - two days by boat from South America's tip - sees little change from £10,000, but buys bragging rights that'll last for decades. Book on a journey to the ends of the earth and you'll transcend from casual tourist to serious traveller, starring in your very own David Attenborough documentary. However, a word of warning from someone who's been; take heed that a holiday this isn't - with horizontal sleet, tumbling wine glasses and deathly seasickness on the menu for many who board the 70 or so 'luxury' cruise liners that depart the Argentine port of Ushuaia each year. In 2009, I landed a spot on a cruise ship bound for what remains one of the world's most fascinating natural landscapes and, let's be clear, I was very lucky to get to take this trip as a passenger - one of 1,000. My first indication that this wasn't going to be quite the trip I'd had in mind? When I was side-swiped by a rogue selfie stick in a scrum of excitable visitors at the first sight of a penguin. Back in the late 1920s, a sturdy ship, The Fleurus, began to make an annual journey across choppy Antarctic seas to deliver mail and supplies to remote whaling stations in South Georgia and the South Shetlands. A few 'tourist tickets' were offered, so that people with the means could set eyes on the otherwise inaccessible shores of the Antarctic Peninsula. These were the Blue Origin flights of the day, the super rich paying for voyages with a hint of derring-do, which had previously been the exclusive domain of skilled explorers. Strike a p-p-pose: Tourists snap away amongst the penguins; Paul says that the high price of the trip - on average between £5,000 and £10,000, means that some of the guests have 'a sense of entitlement to the optimum experience' Then, 1969 saw the first bespoke commercial tours to the region, and now, even bungling arrivistes like me can gaze upon Antarctic wonders - and then share it all later on TikTok (if you can get the wi-fi, more of that later). Tourism to the region exploded in the early 1990s and the International Association of Antarctica Tour Operators (IAATO) reported that around 100,000 people visited in the 2022-23 season - with around 70,000 of those people setting foot on land. How was my own experience? At times, it was sublime. Wildlife sightings included Gentoo and Adelie penguin colonies, leopard seals lolling on stony coves, curious minke whales nosing up out of the waters. Waking up to see virgin-white berg floes jutting out of sapphire waters is a lasting memory. Knowing what I know now, though, would I do it again? That's an icy issue. Let's talk about the realities. Cruises usually sail from Ushuaia (at the southern tip of Argentina) and spend a couple of days crossing the 600 nautical miles of the Drake Passage. Even in the height of summer, it's a dreary, grey expanse, with temperatures around zero and horizontal sleet often greeting you on deck - not ideal conditions for shuffleboard. And it can be a bumpy ride. Errant wine glasses rattle across the dinner table and sea legs quickly need to be developed to navigate the corridors of the swaying vessel, lest you lumber into passing members of staff (sorry about that, Captain Frank). Internet was spotty at best, and outside of a couple of presentations, there's not a huge amount to see or do. You get very acquainted with antibacterial handwash, outbreaks of norovirus or even Legionnaires disease being every cruise ship's worst nightmare. It's undeniably exciting to arrive at your first port, typically research bases run by isolated resident scientists. People want the best bang for their buck, and for some, that means elbows and passive aggression... They are built around the more hospitable regions, where the local wildlife nest and breed. Environmental treaties mean that limited numbers of people can be ashore at any one time, dozen-strong groups ferried there on inflatable Zodiac craft in strict rotation. Understandably, every landing guest must undergo decontamination procedures to preserve the ecosystem. Clothes and boots are thoroughly disinfected, and less patient passengers soon found this an annoyance. More than once, arguments broke out about who should board the first Zodiacs - cue some awkward silences around the shared dinner tables of an evening. Everyone has invested a substantial amount of money to be here, which engenders - and again, I'm not unsympathetic - a sense of entitlement to the optimum experience. People want the best bang for their buck, and for some, that means elbows and passive aggression. Almost 50 per cent of Antarctic cruisers are American (a statistic presented without comment). Once at the Peninsula, half-day expeditions take place almost daily. People soon twig the process and start to stake out the lines, jockeying for prime spots on the Zodiacs, the equivalent of waking up at 5am to put your towel on a sunlounger. The excursions themselves swing between exhilarating and genuinely shocking. This is nature, red in tooth and claw. Paulet Island had 250,000 breeding pairs of penguins. Newborn chicks were being reared as I walked among the nests. The parents don't move much, and their bathroom facilities are very localized with attendant odours. Food is at a premium, so astonishingly bloody fights ensue, and seabirds swoop in to pick off and devour smaller newborns. P-p-p-pick up a penguin, indeed. Photo opportunities are stunning, but with limited time on land, everyone wants the same shots, and so the aforementioned throngs of polar paparazzi can get tetchy. Tripods are wielded like medieval weaponry. The bigger the camera lens, the more obnoxious the punter in my experience. The wildlife here were undisturbed for around 30 million years, so they're vulnerable to even small environmental changes. Even with strict conservation protocols, carbon from the ships causes ice to darken and melt, and invasive species arrive, hitching a ride in clothing and food. A cruise highlight of bathing in the thermal springs at Deception Island had to be cut as extreme weather conditions might have grounded the ship. The deflated, grey journey back to Ushuaia began early, the sleet feeling even more unforgiving. Chunks of an itinerary can be spontaneously abandoned. For a 20-day, £12,000 holiday (including flights, meals, and excursions), that's a risk you'll want to factor in. Again, I fully accept that I'm very privileged to have seen the polar coastlines once surveyed by Hodson and Lindblad.
