Paul Allen’s megayacht available to rent on Antarctic voyage

It’ll cost you eight arms and a leg!

But if the incessant chatter about yacht-owning Russian oligarchs of late has gotten you all hot and bothered for an over-the-top, out-of-this-world sailing experience — minus said oligarchs, one hopes — we have three words for you: Release the kraken.

Or rather, release the much mellower-named yet equally fantastical Octopus, a 414-foot megayacht set to ply the chilly waters of Antarctica for the first time as a charter ship during our winter, its summer, from Dec. 1 to Feb. 28, 2023 (Christmas/New Year’s week is already booked).

As Elon Musk, Larry Ellison and Jeff Bezos have all made clear, computer geeks have excellent taste in conveyances — launched in 2003, this 9,923-gross-tonnaged beaut is no exception, having been commissioned and once owned by Microsoft’s late co-founder Paul Allen.


Exterior of Octopus' deck area.
All decked out: Octopus is 414 feet of luxurious yachty perks like a pool, a gym, a bar, a library, a movie theater, even an elevator.
© Breed Media

Now it’s under the aegis of 240-year-old big-boat broker and operator Camper & Nicholsons.

With a fancy pedigree gussied up with fun European diacritics, Octopus was designed by Norwegian-blooded Espen Øino and built by German shipyard Lürssen.

The cephalopodic cruiser comes with copious spec porn: 13 cabins (the master served by an elevator); two helipads (BYO choppa); eight decks; seven tenders (to us fellow 99-percenters, those aren’t snacks, but smaller boats that go to and fro the shore); a movie theater; a glass-bottom observation “aquarium” lounge; an original photo of Marilyn Monroe among its quirky memorabilia collection; even a fully equipped medical suite and a hyperbaric chamber should things go sideways down there, as they say, “on the Ice.”


Exterior of Octopus sailing the high seas.
Hull lotta woman: Octopus boasts 9,923 gross tonnage.
© Breed Media

Yachts are one of the few things in life still A-OK with being fat-shamed in 2022. Slap them with a beefy prefix like “mega,” “super” or “giga” and expect the price tag to likewise pack on the pounds.

For this overseas jaunt, Octopus will slither her figurative tentacles deep in and around your wallet, suctioning up a cool $2.2 million. (Crypto is also welcome, assuming it’s still worth anything by then.)

If you and 11 other sybarites can swing it, a not-for-the-faint-of-heart, seven-day itinerary awaits, starting with the actual boarding of the ship. To begin, you’ll have to both get to, and fly out of, Punta Arenas, Chile, and land at Frei Station’s gravely airstrip on King George Island in the South Shetlands. Octopus will be patiently R&Ring there after having summered around Central America and the Pacific.

Exterior shot of one of the ship's balconies.
Cruise-y the Jacuzzi in the yacht’s “balcony” hot tub.
© Breed Media

Exterior of a helicopter on the ship.
Feel free to use one of the ship’s two helipads if you packed a bird.
© Breed Media


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All aboard and welcome to the bottom of the world!

From here on, your fever dream of a week begins. Sail through the blowhole-geysered Gerlache Strait. Have breakfast with the four gals who spend a third of the year (wo)manning the UK Antarctic Heritage Trust at Port Lockroy on Wiencke Island where the UK’s southernmost operational post office also sits (send mom a postcard for the ages, of course). Explore the wreckage of the whaling ship Guvernøren by kayak. Sail into the crater of a live volcano. Confess whatever need be inside the continent’s Russian Orthodox Trinity Church (there actually may be an oligarch or two here, sorry).

There’s so much more insular wonderment to behold, but we shan’t spoil it.


The ship's glass-bottom observation lounge.
Don’t tap on the glass! The yacht’s floor-windowed observational lounge turns the ocean into an aquarium.
© Breed Media

And, oh my, the critters you’ll befriend along the way are beyond amazing: leopard seals; humpback and killer whales; gentoo penguins; toothfish (known to American tummies as Chilean sea bass); and, yes, sea spiders “the size of dinner plates,” who are totally more scared of us than we are of them … right?

The geographic nomenclature around these remote parts ranges from the whimsical to the all-out kooky, from Kodak Alley and oh-so-suss Deception Island, to Neptune’s Window and the Nipple. Enjoy the weirdo signage, just don’t steal any, tempting as it may be.

For the rare marine biology major you know and love who actually parlayed their degree into a career, or that flat-earther in your life who needs a stark in-person reality check, inking a deal for a trek aboard Octopus will make their day, their week, their life — right alongside yours. Godspeed.