Canadian Geographic - Best of 2023
TURNING THE TIDE
Paul Nicklen, the renowned wildlife photographer and SeaLegacy co-founder, shares stunning images from the poles in a time of climate change
Paul Nicklen, the renowned wildlife photographer and Sea-Legacy co-founder, shares stunning images from the poles in a time of climate change
Iin the northern fiords of Norway, far above the Arctic Circle. Our small inflatable boat pitches and rolls in the inky black sea as the waves and deep swells reach toward the barely lit horizon. It is high noon in January, and the sun will not rise above the skyline for another week. I strain my eyes and can barely make out the nearly two-metre-tall curved fins of large male orcas that slice effortlessly through the waves. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined being completely surrounded by a hundred orcas, faced with the imminent decision to enter their world or not. I am perched at the edge of the heaving boat, watching for the shape of their bodies to break the surface in order to get a read on their direction and behaviour. They are calling, and their complex communications reverberate through the hull, making us a loudspeaker for some of the most sophisticated vocalizations in our oceans. I have waited a lifetime for this moment. With the large underwater housing for my camera clutched firmly in my hand, slowly and silently, I slip over the side into the midst of the wild pod. As a National Geographic photographer and the co-founder of SeaLegacy, a collective of photographers, filmmakers and storytellers working together to save our oceans, I use my camera to dispel myths about some of the most feared and misunderstood animals in the polar regions. I document animal behaviour and try to give wild creatures — especially those with an often undeserved reputation — a voice, an identity. My driving vision is to create work that speaks to the intersection of conservation, art and science — photographs that act as a beating heart for progress and change.
I am driven to spend weeks and months in two of the most extreme places on Earth — deep under the icy Arctic seascape and alone in the vast swirling blizzards of Antarctica. I was born to do this. My mind, body and soul are more at home here than anywhere else. Through the risks and challenges, my innate comfort on sea ice has become my strength, allowing me to open a window into the rarely seen world of both polar regions.
I grew up in the isolated and dramatic landscape of Baffin Island, Nunavut. We were one of four non-Inuit families living in the tiny community of Kimmirut with fewer than 200 people, where the frozen ocean, glacial mountains and Arctic sky meet in a single location. All my energy came from nature. My formative years were filled with exploring my polar playground, from the wild rides to forbidden places on my snowmobile to the quiet hours creating soapstone carvings of wildlife. I would spend my days exploring the shore of the ocean’s edge in tidal pools or out on the sea ice, where I’d navigate the pressure ridges from massive tidal exchanges and read the ever-changing cracks in the sea ice. On clear winter nights, we would run, whistling and clapping under the dancing lights of the aurora borealis, the greens, reds and blues sweeping down, swirling around us like arms that might grab us and pull us up into the night sky.
I still love to watch the light play shadow games, skipping across the sea ice. Being alone out there in the wind and cold, with the sting on my cheeks, always calms me and allows me to realize that I am truly home.
But our home is changing. Polar regions are fragile landscapes, and sea ice is melting at a rate far faster than scientists originally predicted. Collectively, it is still possible to reverse the dire circumstances that are causing the polar bears to starve, the displacement of the now-vulnerable walrus and the diminishing annual sea ice extent from the punishing rays of the sun, which accelerate the melting process so rapidly that the ecosystem is literally melting before our eyes. Sea ice is like the soil in a garden: without it, nothing grows.
I have dedicated my life to being a bridge between the majesty of the polar regions and you, wherever you are in the world. Through these images from my latest book, Born to Ice, I invite you to swim with a pod of narwhals as they feed in Lancaster Sound, Nunavut; to stand next to polar bears as they try to navigate dwindling sea ice; to feel the awe of being surrounded by thousands upon thousands of penguins who do not know to be afraid. I invite you to be immersed in both ends of the Earth. My journey now becomes our journey. Come with me.
Excerpt adapted from Born to Ice, by Paul Nicklen with Kim Frank, available in bookstores across Canada.