I've always thought sunbathing is over-rated!

It must be almost a week ago that we left Pine Island Bay. I have lost track of the days; we go through several times zones sometimes in the same day because we are so near the Pole.

Halfway out of the bay, we stopped to trawl for the biologists for 48-hours. On the distant horizon, through binoculars, I spotted what looked like needles of ice. I was of the opinion that it was sea ice but, since it was to the north and we had had relatively ice-free conditions further to the south, people were not convinced.

However, as we headed north back out towards the continental shelf edge the needles of ice that I had observed earlier did indeed prove to be heavy sea ice.

At first it was the kind of sea ice we had experienced before, with large chunks of ice separated by pools of open water. As we headed further north the surface of the sea was beginning to freeze with a thin layer of "grease ice" and then "pancake ice".

Soon there was less and less open water and more ice, not fresh smooth sea ice, but huge chunks frozen in with massive icebergs.

The ship began to shudder and vibrate more and more as the ice became thicker. Soon the ice was solid all around and one could have quite easily hopped off over the side and walked away on the ice.

It is incredible how manoeuvrable this ship is. We began to weave all over the place in an attempt to find a way through the ice as it was too thick just to crash through.

Normally the ship runs on two motors, now we had all four going at full throttle. It is quite amazing to be on a ship that rams into ice and comes to an almost total standstill as the whole of the front is lifted out the water and onto ice.

Everything begins to rattle as the engines strain and the ship gently rocks from side to side until finally the ice breaks underneath. Huge chunks shoot up from the water behind the ship.

Sometimes, when the ice is this thick, the ship will be knocked violently to one side like it has hit a wall. Large piles of red ice build up on either side as the paint on the ship is scraped off. Some of the ice was over five meters thick!

During the night we have to stop as it is not safe to sail through thick ice at night.

The whole of the next day is spent going through ice, and then we stop to do some more trawling over night. There are several large spotlights on the ship, which are used to illuminate icebergs during the night in case they drift too close. This has happened a few times and we have had to move.

Even when we were in areas beyond the shelf and certainly beyond where sea ice normally extends during the summer, we still found ourselves surrounded by it, which hampers the science but makes for great scenery, which I love to spend hours photographing.

We are now out towards the Polar Front.

Out here one has to work according to "brief good weather windows". It is an area continually ravaged by storms and it is no different when we get there.

The decks are closed and most people head for their cabin as the wind builds up to gale force and the ship starts rolling, which is a bit of a shock to the system after almost two weeks in relatively calm waters.

Personally I like a good storm. This is probably the worst thing you can say on a ship, but I find it entertaining having to find ways to carry out the simplest of tasks on a pitching ship.

For example, shaving in these conditions is probably not the best idea. However, I have devised a way where by I not only lean into the sink, but also bend my knees so that even a violent roll followed by pitching will not end with me taking chunks out of my face.

I have also managed to tie bungee rope around my desk lamp, which is attached to the wall, which I then loop round my laptop so I do not need to hold on to it all the time.

The one outdoor area of the ship that is still open during weather like this is the "monkey island", which is the very top deck. I normally put as many clothes on as possible and then go and stand up there holding on to the rails getting blasted by the freezing cold wind (the still air temperature is still around -1° to 0°C) and watch the waves crashing over the front of the ship.

I then try and stand there for as long as possibly before my face and fingers go totally numb. Even with a face-mask I normally only manage about 20mins before I lose all feeling in my chin.

If I am feeling really brave, I stick my head out over the side and hold onto my glasses. The noise of the wind is incredible and it carries the sea spray right over the ship. This keeps me amused most days after my shift, although there seems to be a lack of enthusiasm from other people on board to join me in this activity.

I am not sure how sensible this particular activity is – but I have always thought that laying on a beach sunbathing is over-rated!

Benedict Reinardy, 27, from Aberdeen, is a marine geologist, currently in the third year of his PhD. He obtained a BSc Hons in Geography at St Andrews University and an MSc in Quaternary Science at Royal Holloway, University of London before coming to join the Swansea Glaciology Group in the School of Environment and Society. Benedict’s research involves the analysis of the detailed glacial record within marine sediments around the Antarctic Peninsula. His data will contribute to research into whether the past changes within the Antarctic ice sheet can be used as modern analogues for the changes that are currently being observed.