For Natalie Paine, a French horn player hailing from Adelaide, Australia, the journey to Antarctica was more than just a career detour—it was the fulfillment of a childhood dream that many would have considered impossible. On December 14, 2025, Paine, now a member of New Zealand’s Royal Navy band, finally set foot on the icy continent, horn in hand, after years of persistence and passion. According to NPR, her adventure was not only a professional milestone but also a deeply personal triumph over the skepticism she faced as a young student.
“Going to Antarctica has been a long-term goal. It’s something that I fell in love with as a child. And I remember my high school teacher telling me that Antarctica and music were not very compatible career goals, so I should probably try and pick one and stick with that instead. And music was my passion, so I picked music. But it’s a dream I didn’t give up on,” Paine told NPR’s Ayesha Rascoe in a recent interview.
Paine’s path to the world’s southernmost continent was anything but straightforward. After years of performing with the Royal New Zealand Navy band, she discovered an opportunity to serve as a communications operator at the New Zealand Defense Forces post in Antarctica. The competition was stiff, and it took several applications before she finally got the nod. When the call came, she didn’t hesitate to pack her bags—and, of course, her beloved French horn—before boarding a flight to Scott Base, New Zealand’s research station on the Antarctic coast.
The moment she landed, the reality of her achievement hit her. “When I finally got to Antarctica and I got off the plane, I just could not believe—I just took a second to look around and see the mountains and the ice. And I was carrying my little French horn with me, and I had to put my hands up in the air, like, yes, I’ve finally made it,” Paine recalled, laughter coloring her words.
Antarctica, she soon discovered, is an environment that tests even the hardiest souls. The cold was unlike anything Paine had experienced growing up in Adelaide, where the summers are hot and dry and the winters, while chilly, rarely brought snow. “It is so much colder than I’ve ever experienced in my life,” she said. “It’s also extremely dry because it doesn’t precipitate very much. And so there’s ice, but there’s no rain. There’s no running water. And you have to drink at least two liters of water a day, sometimes three because you just get so dehydrated down here, which was something I didn’t expect.”
Despite the harsh conditions, the vastness and beauty of the landscape left a lasting impression on her. “It’s just the most wonderful sense of vastness. It’s this huge expanse, and you can see so far away that it really is quite a trick on the mind that some of the things you can see in the distance are much, much further away,” Paine explained to NPR.
Antarctica isn’t just about ice and snow. The continent teems with remarkable wildlife, and Paine was lucky enough to witness some of its most iconic residents. “The snow petrels that are down here—which I think are my favorite animal down here thus far—they’re these beautiful little white birds that are so graceful in the sky. The Weddell seals, which are these huge, fat seals with beautiful fur—they’ve got seal pups, which has been really, really cool,” she said. Even more memorable were the visits from emperor penguins, a rare treat for anyone stationed at Scott Base. “We also were really fortunate to be visited by some emperor penguins twice. I did think about grabbing my horn to play for penguins when we saw some emperors a few weeks ago, but I didn’t want to spook them ‘cause I’ve heard that if you spook them that they can get quite, like, shocked and go into shock, and then they might die. And so I do not want to go around killing any penguins.”
Bringing music to such an unforgiving environment posed its own set of challenges. Performing during the changing-of-the-flag ceremony, Paine had to get creative just to keep her fingers moving and her lips warm enough to play. She described the elaborate layering: “I had, like, an inner layer that was quite thin of wool, and then I had hand warmers between that layer and my ski gloves, which were holding the trumpet. And even then my fingers were freezing, and my face was really, really cold and just trying to keep my lips warm to play.” She also had to worry about the instrument itself—condensation from her breath could freeze inside the brass, threatening to lock up the valves in the middle of a performance.
Yet, for Paine, the experience was more than just a test of endurance. It was a chance to reflect on the historical role of music in communication, especially in remote and challenging environments. “It occurred to me the other day that ancient horns were historically used for communication in the field until about the mid-1800s. And I’m down here as a communications operator and as a horn player, continuing this really interesting tradition in Antarctica many, many years on,” she mused.
The intersection of her two passions—music and communication—felt almost fated. “You know, God works in mysterious ways, and I can’t believe that I’ve been able to achieve both the career goal of making it as a professional musician and being able to come down to Antarctica,” Paine said, her gratitude palpable. “There’s just this endless beauty to it and, for me, an underlying theme of just joy, humility and thankfulness to God just for being here and the beauty of His amazing creation.”
Paine’s story is a testament to the power of perseverance and the unexpected rewards that come from following one’s dreams, no matter how unlikely they may seem. Her journey to Antarctica may have started as a childhood fantasy, but it became a living example of how passion, patience, and a little bit of luck can open doors to the most extraordinary places on Earth.
As the icy winds continue to sweep across Scott Base, Natalie Paine’s horn echoes a tradition both ancient and new—a reminder that even at the edge of the world, music finds a way.
