I’ve always thought of great swaths of ice as pretty. But I never fully realized how mesmerizing ice can be until I was on a Polar Class 2 icebreaker that cut through immense sheets of it, then provided a platform on which cruisers could descend to the ice, walking on it and admiring all stages of a frozen river in near silence as the night arrived. What a joy it was to be a passenger on a first-of-its-kind, 12-night Quebec-centric winter itinerary by French cruise line Ponant.
This winter, the hybrid electric, 270-passenger Le Commandant Charcot, one of the most environmentally friendly ships afloat, became the first to sail the St. Lawrence and Saguenay Rivers in winter. Polar cruises to Antarctica and the Arctic sail in austral (or Southern Hemisphere) summer when Fahrenheit temperatures may be in the 30s. Boreal winter (the long, cold winter of the upper Northern Hemisphere), however, regularly welcomes sub-zero temperatures. On a mid-January sailing, Ponant’s provided bright-orange polar jackets lined with fake fur on the collar and padded boots kept us relatively warm and comfortable, but even then, adding additional layers was a must. And that was part of the fun.
Experiencing bragworthy cold weather, getting a glimpse at modern First Nations culture, and indulging in winter activities such as dogsledding, snowshoeing, ice fishing, and ice canoeing are all reasons to take this cruise.
But ultimately, the ice is the star. Passengers on the inaugural sailing, mostly French-speaking (there were only nine native English-speaking passengers aboard) came for weather. “I wanted to come to Canada, and I love the cold,” said Marielle Mougey, who lives in Basque Country and had earlier sailed on Ponant in French Polynesia.
Passengers can pay extra for an overnight experience in Saguenay that includes a hike through a dreamy snow-covered forest and a stay in a heated yurt.
Photo by Julien Fabro/Courtesty of Ponant
Our cruise (priced from $24,000 per person) began in St. Pierre and Miquelon, an island off the coast of Newfoundland that’s a territory of France, not Canada. The island was reached by some passengers via a business-class charter flight from Montreal, by others via a bonus 11-night crossing of the North Atlantic from Helsinki.
From there we headed to Canada, where we overnighted in Quebec ports that are popular with summer tourists—Cap-aux-Meules in the Magdalen Islands, Gaspé on the Gaspé Peninsula, Sept-Iles on Quebec’s North Shore, and La Baie in Saguenay—the last one being Quebec City. Locals were welcoming. One guide in Gaspe noted we were livening up the “boring season.” Some guests, who wanted to explore on their own instead of do some of the ship’s included tours and visits to indoor markets set up by tourist offices, were greeted onshore like celebrities—in places such as Canadian fast-food chain Tim Hortons and at pubs serving poutine. Local media covered our arrival. Our orange jackets were a dead giveaway of who we were; we looked like a flock of pumpkins.
The itinerary
Our first glimpse of St. Pierre revealed colorful homes, wild ocean views, and a couple of seals, to the backdrop of rainfall, which brought some disappointed sighs from the true cold seekers. But we were 157 passengers and 190 crew on a luxury ship equipped with a sexy indoor swimming pool and a pampering spa, where Henriot Champagne was served from magnums, a larder was stocked with truffles and French cheeses, and the cuisine curated by famous French chef Alain Ducasse was executed by a 32-person galley department. We could handle a little rain.
A choice of daily tours is included in the cruise fare, and most passengers were anxious to get ashore to explore, regardless of the weather. Boreal winter is about cold and snow and frozen waterways, which at times means unpredictable outings. In Cap-aux-Meules, the main town in the Magdalen Islands off the Gulf of St. Lawrence, a hike in hail was a bit challenging, but the views revealed impressive red sandstone cliffs. A cultural tour that stopped at a brewery, smokehouse, and cheese shop, was at least a glimpse at local life, during which we could warm up.
Le Commandant Charcot’s ability to cut through age-old ice is exciting and impressive.
Courtesy of Ponant
The colder and wintrier the weather turned—temperatures eventually dipped to as low as -4 degrees (and colder in the windchill)—the more exciting our cruise became.
Doing a 3.5-mile hike outside of Gaspé, where explorer Jacques Cartier started the colonization of “New France” in 1534, I found myself in a calm, snow-covered forest populated mostly with poplars, chatting with a local herbalist about natural remedies. She picked a black forest pepper for me to taste, as we covered plowed but still rugged and often uphill pathways on foot, me with the help of walking poles.
Gaspé’s Mi’kmaq interpretive center, complete with re-created 17th-century wigwams and a gift shop, opened for us even though it’s closed in winter, the director happy about the added revenue to go toward programs that teach cultural traditions to local Mi’kmaq youth (the Mi’kmaq are among 11 First Nations in Quebec, with the Mi’kmaq community in Gaspé numbering some 2,000). My husband and I chatted with local community member Tim Adams, who later, on the ship, held an eagle feather as he asked his ancestors’ permission to share stories and chanted while playing a drum.
Sept-Iles, named by Cartier, on the north coast of Eastern Quebec, is home to two flourishing Innu communities. We had a full First Nations welcome, including a visit to Atikuss, a shop and museum selling moccasins and boots with proceeds benefiting First Nations craftspeople, and displays explaining the importance of caribou in sustaining Indigenous people. At a large, peak-topped long tent, visited on another tour and located near an Innu-owned shopping mall, community musicians played, dancers performed, and guests could sample tastes of bannock (a biscuit-like style of bread commonly made by some First Nations groups). Performers also did a thrilling show on the ship, showing off talent ranging from traditional dancers to songs by Celine and Andre Bocelli.
Guests who wanted more could splurge on an overnight outing offered on our cruise—a $1,250-per-person stay, limited to 12 passengers (it sold out), that included sleeping in a long tent made cushy with cots and two pot-bellied stoves, dining in a heated lodge, and mingling with 14 Innu hosts who taught crafts, prepared salmon and goose on an open fire, and performed. One passenger said it was one of the best experiences of her life. The other optional overnight was later in the cruise, in Saguenay, a hike in a dreamy snow-covered forest and a stay in a heated yurt ($1,040 per person).
Passengers were treated to an ice-fishing outing in Saguenay.
Photo by Julien Fabro/Courtesy of Ponant
I look at travel as an opportunity to leave my comfort zone, so I was thrilled to find out that we were going to have the chance to mush with a four-dog sled team in Saguenay. Hopping on the thread as the dogs got going to my command of “okay,” I might have scared my passenger by staying off the brake. Another high point was snowshoeing in a forested canyon where a waterfall was all icicles.
English speakers on this itinerary should know that French is the primary language on shore at times. On the ship, lectures by the ship’s five naturalists, a historian, and others were mostly presented separately in French and English.
Icy passage
As we entered the St. Lawrence River from Sept-Iles, we saw more and more ice. What started as pancakes of ice on the water’s surface soon thickened. The ship now had snow on the decks and icicles hanging outside the windows.
After a day of cruising, we reached the mouth of the Saguenay Fjord for a breathtaking sail past the steep granite walls of one of the longest fjords in the world. With the ice so thick it looked impassable, and concerns by the crew that we might create an unwanted crack, we crossed the fjord with the help of a Canadian icebreaker that created a path. Other icebreakers stand by for cargo ships that populate the waterway year-round.
The ice brought palpable excitement. Watching the ice break, then quickly reform, was mesmerizing. It was freezing outside, but winter wonderland lovers like me bundled up and went out on our ship’s open decks until our cheeks ached so much we had to go indoors. Others watched from the comfort of the ship’s observation lounge, where a piano player turned out pop tunes, and macarons and tea were served.
Sailing into the ice and sunset aboard Le Commandant Charcot.
Photo by Fran Golden
The ship’s captain, Patrick Marchesseau, was gleeful about breaking ice in a place that he said was colder than when he took the Ponant ship to the North Pole. Throughout the cruise, he kept us updated on weather conditions with a daily briefing. “Ice is good for us,” he declared; the more ice we encountered, the more exciting our journey would be. Those who wanted to join the officers could hang out anytime on the bridge.
As we reached the city of Saguenay’s La Baie borough, the captain had a surprise. With ice a foot thick, the ship stopped, the gangplank went down, and we were all invited off for an evening stroll right on the frozen river where ice had reached a 12-inch thickness, so it could hold our weight. Some locals left their nearby ice-fishing tents and snowmobiled over to say hello. The experience was worth the price of admission.
Back on the ship, we were called to the open deck (or the heated lounge) to view a full fireworks display launched from the shore where locals were holding a winter festival. We responded with flares on the helideck, searchlights, and the ship’s blaring horn, creating a love fest between locals and visitors across the ice.
The navigation was surprisingly smooth; the only time our ship used its own ice-cutting capabilities was as we approached Quebec City, in the middle of the night. I slept through that, dreaming of ice.
The Le Commandant Charcot will return to Quebec for two 14-night boreal winter sailings in February 2027; fares start from $25,850 per person.