Alexis Madrigal: Welcome to Forum. I’m Alexis Madrigal. I cannot be alone in having always wanted to go to Antarctica. Something about the sheer strangeness of the landscape and the remoteness of the place—something about the lack of human degradation, something about the sheer challenge of getting there and surviving.
Our guest this morning, Ariel Waldman, not only spent two months in Antarctica with a research team, she also managed to film a full-fledged documentary by herself with her menagerie of cameras. The first episodes of that work, Life on Earth, debut tonight on PBS. Welcome to Forum, Ariel.
Ariel Waldman: Thanks so much for having me. Really happy to be here.
Alexis Madrigal: And of course, I should say PBS is KQED TV. Perfect. Okay, let’s talk about going to Antarctica. I’m just going to live vicariously through you. How did you get cleared to go? How did you get there?
Ariel Waldman: Well, yeah. So getting cleared to go to Antarctica is a multi-month process. You have to get what we call “PQ’d,” which is physically qualified. So you go through a whole bunch of tests—seeing doctors, drawing blood, getting physical exams, everything. That’s all the preliminary stuff.
But actually getting to Antarctica is a multi-hour, multi-day journey. From my home in San Francisco, I fly all the way to New Zealand. And from New Zealand, we take a C-130 military aircraft for eight hours.
Alexis Madrigal: Wait—what’s it like on the inside?
Ariel Waldman: On a C-130, it’s cramped. It was not meant for passengers. There are no seats—only cargo netting. You travel like that for eight hours.
Alexis Madrigal: So by “no seats,” you mean there are nets and you sit on the net?
Ariel Waldman: You sit on the netting.
Alexis Madrigal: Like a hammock?
Ariel Waldman: You sit on the netting, and they pack it full. You’re literally interweaving your knees with all of your fellow passengers because there’s not enough room to even put your legs together. So you’re crisscrossed with everyone on the plane for eight hours. And by the way, there’s no bathroom.
Alexis Madrigal: Wait—so what do you use?
Ariel Waldman: There’s literally a bucket—like a paint bucket—and they put a curtain around it. For eight hours, that’s the only place you have to go to the bathroom.
It could even be longer than eight hours, because when you take this journey, you might encounter really bad weather, be unable to land in Antarctica, and then they’ll just boomerang you back to New Zealand. Then you have to try again the next day.
Alexis Madrigal: Oh my God. So there are no snacks, you’re saying?
Ariel Waldman: They give you a little lunch pack, but yeah—it’s pretty bare-bones.
Alexis Madrigal: It’s like Meals Ready to Eat—very military in that way. Wow. That’s so interesting. So who are you on there with? Other scientists, but also support staff, right?
Ariel Waldman: Yes. A lot of staff, a lot of support personnel, a lot of scientists. Because the New Zealand and American bases are so close together, you get a lot of Kiwi researchers alongside Antarctic researchers, and we all fly down together.
Alexis Madrigal: And what were you going down there to do? What kind of research were you involved with?
Ariel Waldman: I was on the McMurdo Dry Valleys Long-Term Ecological Research team—which is a mouthful. They’ve been studying this Mars-like environment for over 30 years, looking at everything about the ecology there.
I was embedded with the soils team, looking for microscopic animals that could tell us more about the ecosystem. Our team is known as the “worm herders,” because we’re always looking for nematodes.
Alexis Madrigal: When people think of Antarctica, they imagine snow-swept ice and cute penguins huddled together. That’s not what these dry valleys are like.
Ariel Waldman: No. Most of Antarctica is covered in ice—up to three miles thick in some places. It’s larger than the U.S. and Mexico combined, and 98 percent of it is covered in ice.
But the largest ice-free area is the dry valleys, and it’s very Mars-like. This isn’t due to climate change—it’s because a mountain range blocks the ice sheet from entering the area. So you get this dry, arid environment where you can actually walk on the continent itself.
Alexis Madrigal: When you say “Mars-like,” do you mean just cold, or something more specific?
Ariel Waldman: Multiple things. It’s cold, but the dryness is key—humidity below 10 percent, almost no precipitation. No rain at all, and only rare light snow.
You also have six months of total darkness and six months of total daylight because it’s near the South Pole.
Alexis Madrigal: Wow. So the C-130 drops you at McMurdo Station. What are your accommodations like?
Ariel Waldman: We stay at McMurdo for the first week because everyone has to go through training—survival training, environmental protocols, learning how to camp, what to do if you’re stuck in a storm.
So that first week is constant preparation.
Alexis Madrigal: Were you terrified?
Ariel Waldman: No—because of the training. You’re never alone, and you always know what to do. The U.S. Antarctic Program is very thorough.
When they drop you off by helicopter, they give you survival bags—so if a storm prevents pickup, you can camp and survive on your own. Everything is meticulously planned.
Alexis Madrigal: What’s in the survival gear?
Ariel Waldman: Rations, tents, cooking equipment—basic survival camping gear to hunker down.
Alexis Madrigal: There’s this incredible shot in your docuseries where you’re flying over ice in a helicopter. Can you see anything down there?
Ariel Waldman: Over the sea ice, yes—you can see little specks of penguins, seals, even orcas. It’s thrilling.
But once you enter the dry valleys, it’s different. A hundred years ago, explorers called it the “Valley of the Dead,” because nothing seems to live there. Occasionally you’ll find mummified seals or penguins—animals that wandered in and couldn’t survive. The dry conditions preserve them for decades.
Alexis Madrigal: Wow. So the helicopter drops you off in this place, and there’s that drone shot—it’s just you and a handful of people, and nothing else for miles. Were you scared?
Ariel Waldman: No. Again, you’re well trained. It’s not terrifying—it’s just… alien.
The strangest feeling is thinking, “No one would believe this.” Every footstep echoes, and it feels like another planet, but you’re on Earth.
I mostly wished I could bring more people there to experience it. That’s why I made the series—because words alone don’t capture it.
Alexis Madrigal: We’re talking with documentary filmmaker and National Geographic Explorer Ariel Waldman about her new series Life on Earth, which looks at ecosystems in Antarctica and North American prairies. It premieres tonight on PBS.
Let’s bring listeners into the conversation. Have you been to Antarctica? Do you want to go? Give us a call: 866-733-6786, or email forum@kqed.org.
Spending time in these Mars-like dry valleys—has that changed how you think about humans going to Mars?
Ariel Waldman: Absolutely. I served on a National Academy of Sciences committee looking at the sustainability of human spaceflight and the possibility of a Mars program.
A lot of people think going to Mars is just one step harder than the Moon—but it’s far more difficult. The distance, the atmosphere—it’s a huge leap.
It’s possible we could land humans on Mars someday, but it would require enormous funding, political will, and international collaboration. It’s not something one nation can do alone.
Alexis Madrigal: Why multiple countries?
Ariel Waldman: Because it would cost hundreds of billions of dollars over decades. Even the U.S. would struggle to do it alone.
Alexis Madrigal: So it’s not going to be Elon Musk?
Ariel Waldman: Not alone. It requires collaboration. And if you’ve been paying attention, even he’s shifted focus more toward the Moon. I think he’s encountering some of those challenges.
Alexis Madrigal: We’re talking with Ariel Waldman about her new documentary series Life on Earth. We’ll learn more about Antarctica’s ecosystems—and our own—after the break.
You can call us at 866-733-6786. I’m Alexis Madrigal. Stay tuned.