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

IT IS A COLD WINTER DAWN in 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-meter-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 behavior. 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.