A few years back while the day was coming to an end, I managed to get this shot from a friend of mine.

I've had spent about 10 hours on the water already and until that wave, the conditions had been average. I was tired, hungry, thirsty and sunburnt. Until then, I didn't got any picture worthy of interest. 

Then this wave came and my friend went for it. In a matter of seconds, I was in the right place at the right time to capture this moment.

What I love about this image is the contrast between the immense power of the ocean displayed here and the apparent calm of my friend. 

Sure, this shows an insane skill level, but somehow it also feels like a life lesson we can all benefit from : learning to find inner peace while everything crashes around you. There are things you can't (and shouldn't) fight but learn to navigate through.

This image is part of a collection displayed in French Polynesia's main hospital. As people wake up after a surgery, these images are the first thing they see. It is meaningful as surfing and the ocean is such a huge part of the culture there.

Peace In Chaos

The Decagon is the infinitely evolving, always unique, and eternally open membership token of the Decaverse. Designed by Kjetil Golid.

Decagon #2833

Matt Walch

This gorgeous humpback whale calf and I have quite the story...

During the 2023 whale season, I first met her when she was barely a week old. She was quite shy, staying at a distance and not interacting with me in any way. Her mother was not worried about my presence, but her calf wouldn't leave her side except for a quick breath at the surface before going back down.

I had the chance to meet her several times after that over a three-week period. I was able to see her grow (they grow really rapidly at that stage). Things would soon change...

She gradually became more and more comfortable around me as time went by, starting to make eye contact with me and displaying playful behavior. But still, she stayed at a safe distance, not far from her mother.

This evolved even further...

Afterabout two weeks, she became the most playful, fearless, and affectionate calf I had ever seen.

On our last three encounters, she would come straight to me, often making physical contact (My general rule is not to touch wildlife, but she swims faster than me!). She would follow me around, catch up, and gently wave her pectoral fins in my face... which feels like a slap as we're talking about a one ton wild animal.

This behavior earned her the name "Slappy"!

Slappy and I played for hours during our last moments together, to the point where I would just drop my camera and play with her, focusing on living the moment to the fullest. I knew that soon enough, she would be gone, following her mother back to the Antarctic.

This image was taken during one of our final moments... I hope to see her again someday!

Slappy

Now, he swam back to the shore in a daze. His muscles were loosened. His soul was lighter, as if some of his trauma had shaved away. Salt water dripped from his wet suit and legs as he traipsed up the beach and headed back to his small bungalow home on a boardwalk along the sea line. 

The whale song echoed in his head as the day waned, playing over and over until the sun fell, and the stars made their appearance.

The warm night breeze coaxed a smile onto his face as he sat on his balcony. Sea salt blew past his nose, clinging to his skin. He stared out at the black abyss that was the ocean and the sky meeting as one, where the cosmos on the earth was one. He could have sworn he heard the distinct song of a whale.

—

When he left home, he was only seventeen and the demons followed him like ghosts haunting someone who wronged them during their life. So, he turned to the drink. When he passed eighteen, he stalked into a bar in a town not too far from my home. Shadows shrouded the room, with only pockets of yellow light. 

Glasses clanked together. Liquor ran freely. Crude jokes and laughter rang into his ears as he sipped the bourbon, allowing it to loosen his muscles and build a haze over his mind. He was rarely sober after that night. The liquor and the punk rock band he joined became a Band-Aid for his trauma. 

The alcohol flowed through his veins and the guitar riffs and drums reverberated against his ribs. But the wounds festered until the infection bubbled over and the tears and wails forced their way up his throat.

—

Will swallowed, staring at the stars, heaving a sigh at the broken young adult who had to pry himself away from the drugs and alcohol. He closed his eyes, listening to the distant whale song and allowing his eyes to grow heavy. The sound and the sea salty breeze sent a wave of calm across his body and into his mind.

The following morning, as the grey light of dawn stretched across the sky, Will pulled on his wetsuit, and hastened to the beach. The sand merged between his toes and his anxious heart steadied. He waded into the water, pulling on his goggles and fins before diving into the blue and swimming across the coral. Fish circled below him, bursts of bright colors in the blue.

Then the singing whales echoed through the current. Low, deep pitched, and in rhythm with the beat of his heart. It was the sound of peace. His stomach launched into his throat when he spotted them. Enormous grey masses moving lazily through the clear water. They swam in the deep water, past the edge of the coral reef. Shafts of the first sunlight breached through the water, and their skin glistened.

A mother whale and her calf. The calf clung to her side, an innocent giant just learning the truth of the ocean. Her mother guided her along the edge of the reef. The calf chirped, and the mother responded with a deep whistling tune. Will suspended himself in the water, only the tip of his snorkel poking above the surface. He didn’t dare move, entranced by their magic.

Tears burned his eyes. He could sense the deep, caring nature of the mother to her child. The way she kept her within her grasp, nudging her along and responding to her chirps. His stomach clenched. His mother, who died of alcoholism 10 years ago, failed him. She never showed him the love and nurture he deserved and needed. But they hadn’t spoken since he left home. 

Mother’s Day was always a strange, bittersweet day. He didn’t know what to do, or what to think of her death. Emptiness shrouded him on Mother’s Day. His soul was numb, as if he were drunk on bourbon, and oblivious to the world. He knew if he allowed himself to feel, pain would consume him.

More streams of sunlight eased through the water. The whales skirted the perimeter of the reef, singing to one another. Will knew he needed to make peace with the memory of his mother. He couldn’t let her haunt him forever. Nor could he let the other demons of his past cling to his spine. He closed his eyes, letting the whale sound consume his senses. His heart slowed. His muscles loosened. He allowed the tears to flow, to release the trauma to the ocean, so the current could carry it away, further into the deep.

Peace swathed around him. Like light chasing away the shadows. He felt calmer than he had in years. The whales swam into the distance, fading into the gloom. 

But their song remained in his bones. The ocean and the majestic creatures who lived there would heal him, piece him back together like a broken vase. Will floated in the water for several beats, listening to his breath through the snorkel and staring after the whales.

The ocean became his haven. A place where he could simply be. 

No pressure to exist within the confines of someone else’s expectations of him. An escape. The ocean and the whales  
kept him sane.

As he emerged from the ocean and treaded up the sandy shore back to his house, he smiled, knowing he would see the whales again.

Tales from the Blue Planet - Part II

The wind blew at his skin as the first finger of sunlight stretched over the horizon, painting the sky in an array of yellow, orange and pink. The ocean sang, calm waves splashing onto the shore. He heaved a sigh as he trudged barefooted across the cool sand, not yet warmed by the sun. The water caught the flecks of sunlight, glimmering like a thousand stars, and his stomach twisted.

He hoped the ocean would breathe peace into him. And he held onto that hope like a torch in the darkness. He reached for the light.

The ocean, a swath of deep grey and icy blue, beckoned him, the waves calling his name. He stepped onto the wet sand, tears prickling his eyes as the wave washed past his ankles. The quiet there unsettled him. Noise had followed him and haunted him since he was a child. Most piercing of all was the scream of his violent mother. He pinched his eyes shut, drawing in the salty scent of the sea. When he opened them, he peered at his fragmented reflection in the near-still water. His damaged inner child stared back. Tears dribbled his cheeks.

—

“Will my father ever come back for me?” he asked his mother at aged 10 one evening after school.

The house reeked of cigarettes and alcohol. Mould grew up the tar-stained walls like a grotesque painting and his stomach rumbled from the lack of food in the fridge. Rain battered the window, and the house groaned from the wind. 

His mother clutched an empty wine bottle in her hand, sitting on a worn, mildew-infested couch, lolled her head to the side, arching her brow at him. “Stupid boy. Why would he come back for you, Will?” Her raspy voice slid along his bones and his blood spiked with fear.

The boy swallowed the bile burning the back of his throat. “All of my friends have their dads. I’m the only one who doesn’t,” he said, voice trembling.

She let out a guttural growl and hurtled the wine bottle at him. He yelped and ducked, flinching as the bottle smashed against the wall behind him, and a shard of glass sliced across his ankle. Blood stained the carpet as he sobbed.

“Now look what you’ve done?” his mother said, groaning. “You better clean out the stain.”

She hauled herself off the dirty couch and stumbled past him, but not before slapping him on the side of his head. His lip quivered, and he raced into his room, closing the door. His bed was his only safe space. He gripped the blanket and let the tears fall.

—

Now he thought about how his quest for peace led him to Tahiti. With its clear, warm, ever blue waters, and quiet serenity, he believed he would find his peace soon. But the demons still haunted him, buried deep in the marrow of his bones, for he deflected every memory or thought of his past. Will knew he had to face his demons. Otherwise, their claws would remain. But the memory of his mother tossing the bottle at his head sent his heart hammering against his chest. His stomach churned. His pulse thrummed in his ears. Fear was a familiar, unwanted friend that lingered anyway.

He smoothed his wetsuit and waded out into the ocean. The water was cool on his skin as he pulled his goggles over his eyes and his fins on his feet. His breath whooshed in his ears as he breathed through the snorkel and swam further out into the lagoon. 


The white sand transformed into a jungle of coral reefs. Coral and sea anemones swayed in the gentle current. Bright orange and purple schools of fish darted back and forth below him. Crabs scuttled across the rocks on the seabed, foraging for shrimp. His thundering heart slowed. He wanted to lose himself in the world below.

That’s when a sound reverberated through the blue. A whale singing. The deep pitch resonated in his chest, and he stopped kicking his fins, letting the sound consume his very being. Another whale joined in, and another, until there was a cacophony of singing. He could almost feel the sound of waves pulsing against his fingertips. A warmth spread through him like a summer’s sunset, like the first sip of rose. 

Will floated on the surface, peering around, hoping to spot the whales in the distance. But they were too far away. This feeling. It  
was a stark contrast to the chaos and violence that infected his childhood.

—

Violence continued throughout his childhood. His mother preferred to spend her time with alcohol over him.

Will reached for the vodka bottle on the shelf, about the drop it into his bag when he spun around and smacked into his mother. Her face reddened and her vein pulsed in her neck.  
“What do you think you’re doing?” she said through gritted teeth.  
He scrambled for an excuse. “I was going to make you a drink.”  
“Liar,” she said, saliva spraying him in the face.  
“Fine,” he snapped. “I was taking some for myself. I didn’t think you would notice since you’re never sober, anyway. But that’s my bad. I should have known you monitored your liquor like a hawk.”

Will’s mother shoved him, and the back of his skull smacked into the wall. His jaw fell open and he let out a wail, rubbing his head and finding blood staining his fingers.

“Oh, is that a little blood? Well, that’s your fault. Never steal my alcohol again!” his mother bellowed, her voice grating along his bones. “Oh, is that a little blood?”

Guilt gnawed at his gut as he stumbled into his room. The words, “your fault,” rattled around his skull. Heat crept up his neck and his face burned. He trembled as the rage ploughed through him, and his vision blurred. 

Will grabbed a duffle bag and shoved as many clothes and personal care items into it as possible. He stared at his empty piggy bank, which was just there for decoration, then he stepped out of the room. He stalked past his mother, said goodbye, and left.

She was too drunk to realize he was gone for good. He knew he wouldn’t miss her. But his heart ached for what he would never have; a mother who cared. The night swallowed him whole. Darkness and cold and loneliness all at once. But he didn’t turn back. He snuck onto a bus and arrived in a new city the following morning, unsure how he would live, or who he would become.

Tales from the Blue Planet - Part I

A day when waves were so massive a world-class competition had to be cancelled... and this is the biggest wave of the day.

To understand this image on a deeper level, you have to understand what it meant for my friend Ariihoe there. Or what surfing Teahupo'o on a big day means to any local Tahitian surfer.

In all aspects, your first really big wave there is a rite of passage. There definitely is a before and an after. This is exactly the experience Ariihoe lived on that day. One wave to prove himself worthy of the legendary surf spot.

This is one of the most dangerous reef break on the planet. The wave that fascinates as much as it is feared.

This image is part of a collection displayed in French Polynesia's main hospital. As people wake up after a surgery, these images are the first thing they see. It is meaningful as surfing and the ocean is such a huge part of the culture there.

Rite Of Passage

"Stare into the abyss, and it stares back at you." 

Far from the original quote from Nietzsche's "Beyond good and evil", this has now a whole different meaning for a lot of people.

This is about diving deep into our darker side, our deepest fears and secrets. The part of us we hide, even to ourselves. This is about struggling to reach the light in our lives. 

This is about the nights we spend sleepless, deprived of the relief we desperately seek, even for a moment.  

This is about being tired and wanting to give in to the voices in our heads, in our hearts. About drinking that poison while no one is watching. This is about getting closer and closer to the edge. 

This is about contemplating the void

Diving a little deeper, forgetting about the surface and the warmth of the sun. Embracing the abyss and finding comfort in the darkness. Dissolving to exist in a deafening silence.

We are safe now.

Abyss

Tales From The Blue Planet V2

In most Polynesian mythologies, Maui is a demigod who accomplished many wonders. He is also husband to Hina.

It is said that when Maui was young, the sky was very low, preventing the trees from growing and the people from walking upright. He decided that he should do something about it. 

He then visited a Kahuna (a Hawaiian priest and healer) and got a magical symbol tattooed on his arm, as a way to prepare for the battle to come. To gain strength, he also drank from an old woman's gourd, that made him powerful enough to lift up the sky.

After a great struggle, Maui was able to push the sky beyond the mountains, lifting the edges over the ocean, where it remains to this day. 

Accomplishing that exploit allowed nature to grow and thrive. Humans were able to walk tall and evolve.

It is said that clouds never stay too long upon Polynesian islands, as they are scared to be thrown away so far by Maui that they could never return.





Maui

A collection of collaborative works between ocean enthusiasts and myself.

Different visions, different interpretations, same fascination...

The Ocean unite us all, and this collection is meant to embody that.

Words by Aimee Jan :

"Whale sharks are the biggest fish in the sea and one of the most relaxed to swim beside. They are covered in these beautiful spots and swirls that make each one unique, just like our finger prints do.

This photo was taken in Ningaloo Reef, on an overcast day, which really helps the spots to light up. This big guy came close and had a heap of remoras right underneath. 

I love the way Matt has edited this photo in his own unique style. I tend to edit quite lightly whereas Matt is a wizard with it all! I was so excited that he wanted to collab, he has such a unique editing style and his photos always leave me so impressed. Can’t wait to collaborate more!"


Words by Matt : 

"It's a pleasure to work with Aimee, and a honor too! As the Ocean photographer of the year, she is quite the celeb for us ocean folks!

She has a very "true to life", delicate editing style, so it was nice to edit one of her favorite shots in a darker, moodier way.

We both love the result!"

The Stars Below

Ocean FND

Keep pushing forward... and take care!

A gift from me to you as I celebrate 42 rotations around the sun.

A New Dawn

A playful calf enjoying life in the Tahitian waters.

A token of appreciation for the people who supported me and believed in me, wether recently or from the beginning. 

Much love from your Whale Papi.

A New Day

Whale Papi's Birthday Gift

Beauty, hidden beneath the waves…

The 2023 whale season had been a rough one.

Storms rolled across the ocean for days at a time—the kind of weather we know well in tropical waters. Wind, rain, restless seas.

That day, my pilot and I had been following a mother whale and her calf beneath the grey sky for quite a while. Rain tapped endlessly against the surface of the ocean. Then, suddenly, they slowed.

So I slipped quietly into the water.

At first, I kept my distance. In encounters like these, patience is everything. The calf was very young, and the mother was vigilant. At any moment she could have chosen to disappear into the vastness of the ocean.

So I stayed still.

They surfaced to breathe, then slipped back into the blue.

 I followed slowly. When they descended, I stopped. When they rose again, I moved gently forward.

A silent rhythm began to form between us.

After nearly an hour of this quiet dance, I started to close the distance—just a few meters at a time. The calf’s curiosity began to show, circling slightly wider with each breath. The mother watched carefully… but she did not leave.

Trust was slowly taking shape.

The final approach took another hour.

Then I felt it—something changing below. A subtle movement in the deep water beneath them.

I filled my lungs and dove.

Ten meters down, the ocean grew quieter, softer, almost suspended in time. And there, in the blue depths, the moment revealed itself.

The calf moved close to its mother. Their bodies turned slowly together, weightless in the water. A simple gesture, a quiet contact.  
A display of pure love between a mother and her child.

Moments like this feel outside of time. The world narrows to light, movement and emotion.

But eventually the body reminds you of its limits. Carbon dioxide builds, the chest tightens, and the surface calls you back. I rose through the blue and broke into the rain again.

After nearly two hours in their presence, it was time to leave them to their world.

All that remained was this image.

A dream. 

A memory. 

A fleeting glimpse into the private lives of whales in the waters of Tahiti.

Legacy of the Deep

Angels do exist. I have met them.

This image was taken during my very first encounter with manta rays, after having dreamed about them for years.

It finally happened, a year after I moved to Tahiti.

This was shot in a very small Polynesian island, called Maupiti, which is part of the windwards islands.

The water was very opaque, due to the recent large swells, giving it this milky look. That made that encounter even more magical, as the rays were suddenly appearing and disappearing through the dark waters like ghostly creatures. This is the feeling I wanted to emphasize in this edit.

This particular place is called a cleaning station. Manta rays come and stop there to get some cleaning done by the fishes living on nearby corals. This is how they get rid of parasites.

I was just laying on my back on the sea floor at about ten meters deep, trying not to breath too much so they wouldn't be disturbed with my bubbles. I managed to stay that way for an hour and a half, which seemed like an eternity, watching these angels dancing in the dark.

I am so grateful for that experience and still dream about it.

Manta rays have a mesmerizing way of moving... they appear to be flying, slowly and gracefully. They are true giants, with an average span of four meters.

You can't help but feel very humbled by them, astonished by their beauty and gentleness.

Living Amongst Angels

Matt Walch -  Signature Series

This image of Lucas was taken during the 2019 world surfing competition.

Lucas ""Chumbo" Chianca is a world-class big wave rider from Brazil I had the pleasure to meet during the event. Like many insanely talented people, he was kind and humble. We had a great time!

The waves weren't as big as a few days before, but it allowed me to get closer and capture many details! I love that expression of joy on his face, discovering the perfection of Tahitian waves, as if he couldn't believe this was real...

This image is part of a collection displayed in French Polynesia's main hospital. As people wake up after a surgery, these images are the first thing they see. It is meaningful as surfing and the ocean is such a huge part of the culture there.

The Blue Chamber

Teahupo'o during a stormy day...

Tikanui is a world-renowned big wave rider from Mo'orea, the island just in front of Tahiti.

A huge swell was announced that day, so a few surfers were "towing in" (when you get launched on a wave by a jetski because waves are too big to paddle in). We had a few beautiful waves during the day, but nothing extraordinary... until this set.

I took many images from this wave, but this frame where the foam ball is catching up on Tikanui is my favorite.

Being so close to a massive breaking wave feels like thunder is crashing around you. The sound is overwhelming and you can feel the impact in your body. It feels very much alive... a living beast.

It is a good reminder of the power of our oceans and a very humbling experience.

This image is part of a collection displayed in French Polynesia's main hospital. As people wake up after a surgery, these images are the first thing they see. It is meaningful as surfing and the ocean is such a huge part of the culture there.

Riders On The Storm

The End Of The Road

Ever wondered what it's like to sit on top of a 7m wave?

Come and sit, let me describe it to you...

It's dark, the atmosphere is full of droplets, blown away by the winds... the air is almost liquid and becomes hard to breath. everything is moving around you, as the wave arrives. The ocean itself is sucked away from the reef. 

Try to picture a massive, dark mountain of water, coming at you at a constant pace. And then it gets bigger, and bigger, and bigger... until it breaks. Like a crazy waterfall, tons of water suddenly drop.

And then, there's the sound. 

Have you ever been outside during a thunderstorm? Feeling the thunder in your chest, almost as a second heart? Being torn apart between fascination and fear? Try to picture that feeling, when lightnings strike way too close...

This is the moment you are looking at right now, something that could so easily kill you, that you've never felt so alive before.

As for the title, this is what "Teahupo'o" means in Tahitian.

Wall of Skulls

Silence

Matt Walch Collection

Surfing is a fundamental part of the Polynesian culture, and a great part of my teenage years!

Many years later, this image is displayed (in a really huge format) in the main hospital of French Polynesia, with another dozens of my images.

Specifically, in the recovery room. As Polynesian people have a real ancestral bond to the ocean, having them open their eyes after a surgery just to see a beautiful ocean scene is priceless!

In a way, I managed to merge both my photography and nurse anesthetist career!



Motion

A glorious Tahitian sunset, from an unusual angle...

Taken in the historical place of Matavai Bay, which is where Samuel Wallis landed in June 1767 (first known European to do so).

I am lucky enough to live in front of the bay, and often witness whales breaches during the season!

This image was shot on the first week after I was able to get an underwater housing for my camera. 

Being able to shoot in the waves and underwater definitely started it all for me!


Burning Skies

Polynesian Colors

A rainy morning in Tahiti, while whale season was coming to an end.

This wasn't just any morning to be honest... It was my 40th birthday! As we were sailing along the Tahitian coasts looking for whales, I had the time to think.

It is strange that life depends on a multitude of minor choices. How many of them drove me to capture this image? 

Growing up by the ocean led me to live in Tahiti. Being there led me to be obsessed with photography... and many other minor life choices led me to this morning, being right in front of this whale breaching, and capturing it. Any choices I've ever made led me to be there, at this instant, witnessing this majestic animal.

Have I made one different choice along the way, I could have been anywhere else in the world, doing something else, even being someone very different from who I am now.

I couldn't have asked for more that day. I understood for somewhere along my life path, I've made some good choices.

Purity

This picture shows a mother helping her calf to breathe through the surface, while being escorted by a male. It was captured early in the morning, in Mo'orea, an island just in front of Tahiti, French Polynesia.

What makes this image special to me is that they accepted my presence, when they could have easily left. Such a special moment, in a beautiful place. They stayed for about 30 minutes, and felt like a blessing. It's not common for wild animals to tolerate human presence in such a vulnerable moment.

This picture is meant to emphasize the birthing act. In Spanish, "dar a luz" literally translates to "give to the light". That's exactly what I wish to make you feel, how the magic of life often goes unnoticed, hidden below the surface... This is your ticket in.

Let the image draw you in, as you're alone with these humbling giants, witnessing a beautiful moment in time that will be yours forever.

Birth

Foundation

There is something very moving about seeing giant creatures like humpback whales being so gentle and delicate in the way they interact with each other.  

What you see here is a mother and her calf heading to the surface to breathe. And she protects him all along, wrapping her pectoral fins around him.

To me, this is one of the most emotional experiences you can have underwater. Love in its purest form. Definitely a key moment that helped me getting more involved in photographing marine life.

Young mothers tend to be more protective than those with more experience. This particular one might be just getting used to it.

This was the first time I've witnessed that behavior, and it moved me to tears. Maybe my own history made me very sensitive to any display of the unconditional love from a parent too.

30% of the profits made from this piece will be given to Ma'o Mana, a shark research and protection foundation in French Polynesia, to fund an upcoming study of oceanic white tip sharks.

Shelter

"Stare into the abyss, and it stares back at you." 

Far from the original quote from Nietzsche's "Beyond good and evil", this has now a whole different meaning for a lot of people.

This is about diving deep into our darker side, where lies our deepest fears and secrets. The part of us we hide even to ourselves. This is about struggling to reach the light in our lives. 

This is about the nights we spend sleepless, deprived of the relief we desperately seek, even for a moment.  

This is about being tired and wanting to give in to the voices in our heads, in our hearts. About wanting to drink that poison when no one is watching. This is about getting closer and closer to the edge. 

This is about contemplating the colorless void.

Diving a little deeper, forgetting about the surface and the warmth of the sun. Embracing the abyss and finding comfort in the darkness. Dissolving to exist in a deafening silence.

We are safe now.


SuperRare

Sometimes colors are distracting, leading your attention away from shapes, light and textures. 

A timeless moment, forever repeated but deeply unique at the same time. A dance to celebrate life, away from the world. 

An eloquent speech pronounced in the silent sea.

Ethereal Textures

Ghosts of the Deep

Depths

A young humpback whale calf heading to the surface.

I've been able to meet this particular whale several times throughout the season... very shy at first, we bonded to a point we could play with each other.

This image is from our third encounter. She was getting comfortable to come close but not really engaging with me yet.

(Re)Born

Out in the Ocean, feeling the rain on my skin, a whale playfully rolling over in the distance... my fins are on and my mind finally at peace.

Serenity

The Dark Below

Humpback whale breaching in Tahiti, French Polynesia.

Minted as a part of @TezMauiAid.

Hope

Helping raising funds for the Maui wildfire relief effort.

Tez Maui Aid

A beautiful humpback whale calf taking a breath before heading back below, where his mom is resting.

Whales for The People

Elusive moments,
The beauty of a bond,
Forever cherished.

Ocean Love

...but not eternal.

As I was taking this picture on a cold morning, I couldn't help but wonder how many more generations would get to see these majestic animals.

The polar bear, the iconic symbol of the Arctic and the world’s largest land carnivore, faces unprecedented threats. 

Classified as Vulnerable on the IUCN Red List since 2005, this status was reaffirmed in recent assessments. Among the 20 recognized subpopulations, roughly 5 are considered likely stable, 3 are declining, 2 are increasing, and about 10 are data deficient due to the challenges of studying these remote and expensive regions.

The global population is estimated at around 26,000 individuals. 

Some subpopulations, such as those in the Chukchi Sea, parts of the Barents Sea, or the Kane Basin, appear relatively stable or even temporarily benefit from shifts in multi-year ice conditions. In contrast, areas like the Western Hudson Bay (where this image was captured) have lost roughly 50% of their bears since the 1980s, and the Southern Beaufort Sea has shown continued declines.

The primary threat remains the loss of sea ice driven by climate change. Polar bears rely on sea ice to hunt their main prey (seals), reproduce, and rest. With increasingly long ice-free periods (sometimes exceeding 180 days in certain regions), females lose body condition, pregnancy rates drop, and cub survival declines. Projections indicate that even moderate emissions reductions could lead to local extinctions by 2100; without strong action, only a few subpopulations in the so-called “Last Ice Area” (regions with the most persistent ice) may survive in the long term.

Timeless...

Into The Arctic

The polar bear project 9th edition :

A beautiful humpback whale calf reaching to the surface... when they do so alone, it means their mom is resting below and it's a good sign to approach them slowly and see how they would react to your presence.

At this stage, a calf need to breathe about every five minutes (adults can easily hold for forty minutes).

This photograph was taken almost at noon, making for those gorgeous, almost vertical light rays. The water was quite clear that day so you can see a lot of the details and texture of the whale's skin.

A moment of beauty captured on a single breath.



Divine Light

A humpback whale and her calf coming up from the deep...

Overcast days make for this nice soft even light underwater and while the scene as a whole is darker (making it tricky to photograph), it also appears more serene and peaceful.

Come to Light

A friendly turtle met in the sea of Cortez.

The curious honu

Now, he swam back to the shore in a daze. His muscles were loosened. His soul was lighter, as if some of his trauma had shaved away. Salt water dripped from his wet suit and legs as he traipsed up the beach and headed back to his small bungalow home on a boardwalk along the sea line.

The whale song echoed in his head as the day waned, playing over and over until the sun fell, and the stars made their appearance.

The warm night breeze coaxed a smile onto his face as he sat on his balcony. Sea salt blew past his nose, clinging to his skin. He stared out at the black abyss that was the ocean and the sky meeting as one, where the cosmos on the earth was one. He could have sworn he heard the distinct song of a whale.

—

When he left home, he was only seventeen and the demons followed him like ghosts haunting someone who wronged them during their life. So, he turned to the drink. When he passed eighteen, he stalked into a bar in a town not too far from my home. Shadows shrouded the room, with only pockets of yellow light.

Glasses clanked together. Liquor ran freely. Crude jokes and laughter rang into his ears as he sipped the bourbon, allowing it to loosen his muscles and build a haze over his mind. He was rarely sober after that night. The liquor and the punk rock band he joined became a Band-Aid for his trauma.

The alcohol flowed through his veins and the guitar riffs and drums reverberated against his ribs. But the wounds festered until the infection bubbled over and the tears and wails forced their way up his throat.

—

Will swallowed, staring at the stars, heaving a sigh at the broken young adult who had to pry himself away from the drugs and alcohol. He closed his eyes, listening to the distant whale song and allowing his eyes to grow heavy. The sound and the sea salty breeze sent a wave of calm across his body and into his mind.

The following morning, as the grey light of dawn stretched across the sky, Will pulled on his wetsuit, and hastened to the beach. The sand merged between his toes and his anxious heart steadied. He waded into the water, pulling on his goggles and fins before diving into the blue and swimming across the coral. Fish circled below him, bursts of bright colors in the blue.

Then the singing whales echoed through the current. Low, deep pitched, and in rhythm with the beat of his heart. It was the sound of peace. His stomach launched into his throat when he spotted them. Enormous grey masses moving lazily through the clear water. They swam in the deep water, past the edge of the coral reef. Shafts of the first sunlight breached through the water, and their skin glistened.

A mother whale and her calf. The calf clung to her side, an innocent giant just learning the truth of the ocean. Her mother guided her along the edge of the reef. The calf chirped, and the mother responded with a deep whistling tune. Will suspended himself in the water, only the tip of his snorkel poking above the surface. He didn’t dare move, entranced by their magic.

Tears burned his eyes. He could sense the deep, caring nature of the mother to her child. The way she kept her within her grasp, nudging her along and responding to her chirps. His stomach clenched. His mother, who died of alcoholism 10 years ago, failed him. She never showed him the love and nurture he deserved and needed. But they hadn’t spoken since he left home.

Mother’s Day was always a strange, bittersweet day. He didn’t know what to do, or what to think of her death. Emptiness shrouded him on Mother’s Day. His soul was numb, as if he were drunk on bourbon, and oblivious to the world. He knew if he allowed himself to feel, pain would consume him.

More streams of sunlight eased through the water. The whales skirted the perimeter of the reef, singing to one another. Will knew he needed to make peace with the memory of his mother. He couldn’t let her haunt him forever. Nor could he let the other demons of his past cling to his spine. He closed his eyes, letting the whale sound consume his senses. His heart slowed. His muscles loosened. He allowed the tears to flow, to release the trauma to the ocean, so the current could carry it away, further into the deep.

Peace swathed around him. Like light chasing away the shadows. He felt calmer than he had in years. The whales swam into the distance, fading into the gloom.

But their song remained in his bones. The ocean and the majestic creatures who lived there would heal him, piece him back together like a broken vase. Will floated in the water for several beats, listening to his breath through the snorkel and staring after the whales.

The ocean became his haven. A place where he could simply be.

No pressure to exist within the confines of someone else’s expectations of him. An escape. The ocean and the whales
kept him sane.

As he emerged from the ocean and treaded up the sandy shore back to his house, he smiled, knowing he would see the whales again.

The wind blew at his skin as the first finger of sunlight stretched over the horizon, painting the sky in an array of yellow, orange and pink. The ocean sang, calm waves splashing onto the shore. He heaved a sigh as he trudged barefooted across the cool sand, not yet warmed by the sun. The water caught the flecks of sunlight, glimmering like a thousand stars, and his stomach twisted.

He hoped the ocean would breathe peace into him. And he held onto that hope like a torch in the darkness. He reached for the light.

The ocean, a swath of deep grey and icy blue, beckoned him, the waves calling his name. He stepped onto the wet sand, tears prickling his eyes as the wave washed past his ankles. The quiet there unsettled him. Noise had followed him and haunted him since he was a child. Most piercing of all was the scream of his violent mother. He pinched his eyes shut, drawing in the salty scent of the sea. When he opened them, he peered at his fragmented reflection in the near-still water. His damaged inner child stared back. Tears dribbled his cheeks.

—

“Will my father ever come back for me?” he asked his mother at aged 10 one evening after school.

The house reeked of cigarettes and alcohol. Mould grew up the tar-stained walls like a grotesque painting and his stomach rumbled from the lack of food in the fridge. Rain battered the window, and the house groaned from the wind.

His mother clutched an empty wine bottle in her hand, sitting on a worn, mildew-infested couch, lolled her head to the side, arching her brow at him. “Stupid boy. Why would he come back for you, Will?” Her raspy voice slid along his bones and his blood spiked with fear.

The boy swallowed the bile burning the back of his throat. “All of my friends have their dads. I’m the only one who doesn’t,” he said, voice trembling.

She let out a guttural growl and hurtled the wine bottle at him. He yelped and ducked, flinching as the bottle smashed against the wall behind him, and a shard of glass sliced across his ankle. Blood stained the carpet as he sobbed.

“Now look what you’ve done?” his mother said, groaning. “You better clean out the stain.”

She hauled herself off the dirty couch and stumbled past him, but not before slapping him on the side of his head. His lip quivered, and he raced into his room, closing the door. His bed was his only safe space. He gripped the blanket and let the tears fall.

—

Now he thought about how his quest for peace led him to Tahiti. With its clear, warm, ever blue waters, and quiet serenity, he believed he would find his peace soon. But the demons still haunted him, buried deep in the marrow of his bones, for he deflected every memory or thought of his past. Will knew he had to face his demons. Otherwise, their claws would remain. But the memory of his mother tossing the bottle at his head sent his heart hammering against his chest. His stomach churned. His pulse thrummed in his ears. Fear was a familiar, unwanted friend that lingered anyway.

He smoothed his wetsuit and waded out into the ocean. The water was cool on his skin as he pulled his goggles over his eyes and his fins on his feet. His breath whooshed in his ears as he breathed through the snorkel and swam further out into the lagoon.


The white sand transformed into a jungle of coral reefs. Coral and sea anemones swayed in the gentle current. Bright orange and purple schools of fish darted back and forth below him. Crabs scuttled across the rocks on the seabed, foraging for shrimp. His thundering heart slowed. He wanted to lose himself in the world below.

That’s when a sound reverberated through the blue. A whale singing. The deep pitch resonated in his chest, and he stopped kicking his fins, letting the sound consume his very being. Another whale joined in, and another, until there was a cacophony of singing. He could almost feel the sound of waves pulsing against his fingertips. A warmth spread through him like a summer’s sunset, like the first sip of rose.

Will floated on the surface, peering around, hoping to spot the whales in the distance. But they were too far away. This feeling. It
was a stark contrast to the chaos and violence that infected his childhood.

—

Violence continued throughout his childhood. His mother preferred to spend her time with alcohol over him.

Will reached for the vodka bottle on the shelf, about the drop it into his bag when he spun around and smacked into his mother. Her face reddened and her vein pulsed in her neck.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she said through gritted teeth.
He scrambled for an excuse. “I was going to make you a drink.”
“Liar,” she said, saliva spraying him in the face.
“Fine,” he snapped. “I was taking some for myself. I didn’t think you would notice since you’re never sober, anyway. But that’s my bad. I should have known you monitored your liquor like a hawk.”

Will’s mother shoved him, and the back of his skull smacked into the wall. His jaw fell open and he let out a wail, rubbing his head and finding blood staining his fingers.

“Oh, is that a little blood? Well, that’s your fault. Never steal my alcohol again!” his mother bellowed, her voice grating along his bones. “Oh, is that a little blood?”

Guilt gnawed at his gut as he stumbled into his room. The words, “your fault,” rattled around his skull. Heat crept up his neck and his face burned. He trembled as the rage ploughed through him, and his vision blurred.

Will grabbed a duffle bag and shoved as many clothes and personal care items into it as possible. He stared at his empty piggy bank, which was just there for decoration, then he stepped out of the room. He stalked past his mother, said goodbye, and left.

She was too drunk to realize he was gone for good. He knew he wouldn’t miss her. But his heart ached for what he would never have; a mother who cared. The night swallowed him whole. Darkness and cold and loneliness all at once. But he didn’t turn back. He snuck onto a bus and arrived in a new city the following morning, unsure how he would live, or who he would become.

Probably the friendliest humpback whale you'll ever see...

Open edition available for a few days.

Baby Whale Fren

Untold tales whispered by the Depths

Edition limited to 10.

Leviathan

On this rainy morning, I was trying to approach a mother and her calf.

Mom was resting below, coming up for air every twenty minutes, swimming a little while before heading back down.

Her calf was quite shy, coming up every five minutes (they can't hold their breath very long) but would quickly return to his mother.

I stayed at a distance for a while, observing how they would react to my presence. their behavior didn't change, so I was not perceived as a threat.

After some time, I dove.

The two were resting at about fifty feet deep and I managed (almost out of breath) to capture this image which expresses pure love to me.

I left soon after that. Although I wasn't seen as a threat, they didn't show any interest in interacting with me either. This was reason enough to leave them alone.

Being able to have a glimpse of the particular bond between a mother and her calf was a privilege.

"Fifty Feet Below"

A blacktip reef shark appears to be floating in the pristine waters of Bora Bora.

"Weightless" - First edition from "Snapshots from Paradise"

This gorgeous humpback whale calf and I have quite the story...

During the 2023 whale season, I first met her when she was barely a week old. She was quite shy, staying at a distance and not interacting with me in any way. Her mother was not worried about my presence, but her calf wouldn't leave her side except for a quick breath at the surface before going back down.

I had the chance to meet her several times after that over a three-week period. I was able to see her grow (they grow really rapidly at that stage). Things would soon change...

She gradually became more and more comfortable around me as time went by, starting to make eye contact with me and displaying playful behavior. But still, she stayed at a safe distance, not far from her mother.

This evolved even further...

After about two weeks, she became the most playful, fearless, and affectionate calf I had ever seen.

On our last three encounters, she would come straight to me, often making physical contact (My general rule is not to touch wildlife, but she swims faster than me!). She would follow me around, catch up, and gently wave her pectoral fins in my face... which feels like a slap as we're talking about a one ton wild animal.

This behavior earned her the name "Slappy"!

Slappy and I played for hours during our last moments together, to the point where I would just drop my camera and play with her, focusing on living the moment to the fullest. I knew that soon enough, she would be gone, following her mother back to the Antarctic.

This image was taken during one of our final moments... I hope to see her again someday!

Matt Walch (mattwalch)

Matt Walch (mattwalch)

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