Sometimes I think this last trip at the end of my life will look like. I see myself dead, surrounded by my loved ones, thinking about the many adventures I have as a photographer facing some of the lowest corners of the planet. When that day comes, there is one story I will remember above all others: the first time I went underwater with a Leopard Seal in Antarctica.
To get to Antarctica, you have to cross the southern sea and its drake role in many journeys through monstrous waves that reach every 30 meters. The waves lift you Skyward and take you so deep the horizon disappears. When your body can’t handle another hour of movement, snow petrels appear above the waves as high peaks appear on the horizon. You can’t put the words you hear as you arrive in Antarctica. It is a green and blue place, feeling the limits of a forgotten world. It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.
In 2006, I joined a small group on the Antarctic Peninsula to photograph Leopards. For more than a century, these snow-loving pipipeds were branded as monsters: 12 thousand predatory animals with deadly grays and black, shy eyes. Just three years before that, in 2003, one of them pulled a scientist by dragging him under his face. However, I believed that these creatures were misunderstood. I wanted to know the truth, and the best way to find out is to go into the water itself.
An eye-opening encounter
We light and dark water, weaving between icebergs. My Swedish Guide, your friend for life, and Leopard Seal Expert, Göran, spotted a SASSIVE FEME FEASSIng Penguin. “That’s the biggest cover I’ve ever seen,” he said, gravely over his shoulder.
As soon as he saw it, the seal went under our low-level zodiac boat and attacked the penguin against the underside of our small vessel. Before I had a chance to decide if that was meant as a greeting or a threat, Göran nodded and said, “Time to get in the water, JA?”
All of nature’s senses rang out don’t do itbut this is what I came to Antarctica to do. So, with trembling legs and a dry mouth, I rolled into the waters of oblivion. Even in a dry suit, a cold blow is like a punch in the face. But you forget about that very quickly when the tiger sign comes right in. With a head bigger than a grizzly bear, he opened his jaws wide enough to swallow my camera.
I held on to the impact, extending my camera like a shield, but the force never hit. Instead, his eyes seemed to soften, and their expression changed from dark and curious. That’s when I realized that he was studying the reflection in the dome of my time camera, correcting the “other” sign. When he grew up, he swam back with a live penguin, and released them in front of me. I was vomiting as a shot passed my head from its escape.
Leopard Seal Resting on a chunk of ice in Antarctica. (Photo by Paul Nicklen)
Without reacting to my reaction, the sign quickly took another, then another. Over the next four days, he brought me penguins, some alive, some dead or half-eaten, and competed with them for my camera as if they were trying to feed. Every time I refused to give, trying my best to be polite, he looked more and more disappointed.
I came to picture a proper killer. Instead, I found a willing caregiver.
Although they are best known as the Antarctic invasions dependent on the sea ice, the hooks show the northern and southern tips of the countries there. You may not need to travel all the way to Antarctica to see them, but if you do, it’s important to remember that they are people who demand respect.
Battle of the southern ocean
That encounter changed me. It fueled my love for Antarctica and sparked my role in conservation. In 2017, I returned with my partner, Cristina Mittermeier, to the same snow country that had stolen my heart ten years earlier. When we finally got to meet a Leopard Seal together, I watched as the fear became terrifying, just as I had.
This time, we weren’t there only for tiger wounds, but to fight in the southern sea. It seems that human threats now extend even to the most accessible of the planet.
The sunset illuminates the snowy peaks of Antarctica in the mountains of Antarctica. (Photo by Cristina Mittermeier)
The southern seas depend on an animal no bigger than a matchstick: krill. These small animals, such as shrimp that gather in the mountains that can be seen from space, support whales, pebs, sea birds, fish and marine seals. When large prey is in short supply, krill can make up about 80 percent of the Leopard Seal’s diet, which it gnaws with its filter-like teeth.
While the land of Antarctica is protected, its surrounding waters remain open to exploitation. Industrial Krill soldiers are stripping the foundation of the Antarctic ecosystem, turning its life force into their Omega-3 supplements and processed salmon food. Pieces of Antarctica now walk our grocery store shelves. If you buy these products, you can choose omega-based Omega-3s or wild-caught salmon instead. Small decisions, spread across many consumers, can make a difference.
The memory of that first time in Antarctica, the feeling of being in the water with a Leopard Seal, is something I will carry with me as fuel for independence. Life in Antarctica deserves to exist. It’s one of the last remaining wild places on earth, and it’s ours to lose – or save.
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