I'm in Ushuaia, Argentina, approaching the National Geographic Resolution, a ship run by National Geographic-Lindlbad Expeditions. I try to take it all in, not only because this ship will become my home for the next 12 days, but because this marks my dream coming true of voyaging to my final and seventh continent, Antarctica. It's a pinch-me moment to put it lightly, and I get my GoPro out to document walking onto the ship.
As I settle in and go through safety protocols, like trying on my life jacket and seeing where my designated lifeboat is, it's time to attend a mandatory safety briefing in the Ice Lounge on the sixth floor. I'm traveling alone, but I join a table that happens to be where all of the naturalists and scientists onboard are sitting. There, I order a Pisco Sour and meet Rachael Zoe Miller.
I immediately became enamored with her infectious laugh, charismatic glow and pure badassery. She tells me she's onboard as the National Geographic Visiting Scientist, collecting air and water samples to test for microplastics. I make a mental note that, during the next week or so, I want to hang out with Miller.
The next day, as we officially begin crossing the Drake Passage, I brace myself for nausea. Surprisingly, it never shows up. Granted if it had, I was well equipped with Dramamine, and the ship was well equipped with ginger chews. After staring out the window of my balcony for several hours, watching the 15- to 20-foot roller waves go in and out, still in shock that I'm finally on the Drake (almost as much of a dream as Antarctica itself), I decide to get to know the ship. I make my way up to the eighth floor and find Miller yet again, this time, in the Science Hub. She has some test tubes laid out, filled with different microplastics she's collected from various destinations over the years. To keep guests busy during the dreaded Drake, Miller set up a game: Pick a tube and guess from where in the world the microplastics were collected. I picked one up and immediately guessed New Jersey.
"You're right!" Miller shrieked. She told me I was the first person to get one right. (Hey, I'm a New Yorker: I can recognize Jersey trash from anywhere.)
Once we reached Antarctica, nearly every time we did a landing, Rachael had a designated science zodiac boat. I had the honor of joining in Cape Calmette, a postcard-worthy sparkling bay far beneath the Antarctic Circle. At the time, the National Geographic Resolution was the only passenger ship of the season to have been that far south.
Getting to visit such a remote part of the world is an experience in itself, but getting to participate in protecting our planet took it over the top. Miller explained the process thoroughly: Someone would throw a bucket into the Southern Ocean to collect water samples, and that water would be poured into rubber ziplock bags. This required volunteers, giving guests of the ship the chance to be directly involved -- one to throw the bucket and one to hold the bags, with the risk of having freezing cold Antarctic water poured on them (gloves highly recommended). I immediately volunteered to throw the bucket, and as the only passenger on my ship to don a metallic pink snowsuit, Miller joked I was "sparkling for science."
Once the water sample was in the rubber bag, it was then brought back onto the ship up to the science hub. There, Miller ran the water sample through a fine-mesh strainer, equivalent to about 1/10th the strand of a human hair. She then takes a slide sample from the remnants and places it under a microscope, which is amplified on a large screen in the science hub. All guests of the National Geographic Resolution, whether they actually participate in a science zodiac or not, are able to join the Science Hub to check out the samples.
So, who exactly is this woman who very casually collects microplastic data in Antarctica? Miller's path to doing what she does today was anything but conventional.
Miller's equal love of science, math and art led her to years of trial and error until all of her experiences tied together.
A multi-trick pony, she has an education in anthropology and, more specifically, underwater archaeology. Prior to her work in Antarctica, Miller worked and studied in destinations like Australia, La Paz (Mexico) and the Dry Tortugas, to name a few. She trained and tried out for the Olympics for sailing in 1996, ran shipwreck tours in an underwater ROV in Lake Champlain and ran a nonprofit sailing center in Burlington, Vermont, in the late '90s.
The one consistent for Miller through it all was the ocean. It wasn't until an October 2009 trip with her husband (and two giant Newfoundland pups) to Matinicus Island, off of the coast of Maine, that everything clicked.
"There was trash up to my knees," Miller tells me, referring to the results of a nor'easter that had just hit the area. "And it was there that night, my husband had my epiphany. He said, 'There's really only one thing that pisses you off: It's trash in the ocean.'"
Shortly thereafter, the Rozalia Project was born. Named after Miller's great-grandmother, Rozalia, the Rozalia Project has removed more than one million pieces of trash from waterways. But don't get it twisted -- it is NOT a cleanup organization. Instead, the Rozalia Project has four strategies to address the problem of marine debris: data cleanups as a tool for prevention, prevention through education, embracing innovation and technology, and doing solutions-based research.
In 2016, Miller embarked on a Hudson River expedition to collect surface-level water samples every three miles for microplastic and microfiber, starting up by Mount Marcy all the way down to Ambrose Light. This was the first study of its kind done by anyone. Miller wanted to get back to the Hudson to run this expedition again with more refined methods, so she partnered with forensic scientist, Claire Gwinnett, in 2019 to incorporate air and soil samples. She applied for funding from National Geographic for this expedition and was successful in doing so, leading Miller to becoming a National Geographic Explorer in 2019.
In July 2023, Miller became a National Geographic Visiting Scientist on her first expedition with National Geographic-Lindblad Expeditions to Svalbard. That November, she would make her lifelong dream, like mine, come true by visiting Antarctica on the National Geographic Resolution.
"When I was a little kid reading National Geographic, Antarctica was the place that captured my imagination most," Miller says.
She has since been back three times -- I was fortunate enough to meet her on her most recent expedition. Miller is headed to Antarctica on the National Geographic Resolution yet again this season for their November 17-28 departure. So, if Antarctica has been on your bucket list and you want an interactive, more meaningful opportunity, I can speak from personal experience that the unique experience to help protect our oceans while in one of the most remote and stunning places on the planet is a pretty tough one to top.
If you can't swing a trip to Antarctica, you can still support Miller's work and our oceans through her new book, Decision-Making in the Age of Plastics. It's a choose-your-own-adventure-style guide to making decisions that balances your health, the planet and your budget in a way you can feel confident about. The book hits the shelves on August 21 but is currently available for pre-order.