orca behavior

Are Orcas Dangerous? What I Learned in the Water

So many people fear orcas.

It’s understandable.

Most of what the public knows comes from two extremes: the tragedy of Blackfish, where captive orcas turned violent in unnatural tanks, and, more recently, headlines of wild pods sinking yachts. 

These are the stories that reach the masses, stories of danger.

But that’s not the story I know.

I’ve had the privilege of swimming with orcas in Baja, Norway, and New Zealand, spending hours in the water with them, watching, listening, and learning.

 I’ve seen them hunt with precision, communicate in ways we barely grasp, and yes, even play.

In New Zealand, I spun underwater like a dolphin, curious how they might react. 

The orcas swam around me, studying me, as much as I studied them.

In that moment, I was overwhelmed with emotions, but it wasn’t fear. 

It was awe, respect, and reverence for the intelligence of these beings.

Never once have I felt fear in their presence, only humility.

There is just something about orcas that pulls at people.

They embody mystery and majesty in equal measure. They’re emotional, intelligent, and connected to their families in ways that remind us of what we’ve lost as humans.

They are the ocean’s storytellers, and we’re only beginning to understand the language.

If there’s one truth we all seem to agree on, it’s this: Orcas do not belong in aquariums.

They do not belong in concrete tanks, performing tricks for crowds. 

They belong in the ocean, where their songs can travel for miles and their pods can live as they were meant to… FREE!

There are still around 70 orcas in captivity today, and every one of them deserves freedom.

Meanwhile, wild orca populations are slowly recovering, thanks to stronger protections and the decline of destructive fishing practices. 

With time and continued effort, their numbers will rise again.

And that gives me hope.

Because if there’s any species that deserves to continue its reign as the true master of the ocean, it’s the orca.

I was once asked, “If you could spend your life with only one animal, which would it be?”
Without hesitation, my answer was orcas. 

Well, maybe with a little hesitation.

Orcas are addictive in the best way, the kind of presence that changes you. Once you’ve shared the water with them, once you’ve looked into their eyes, you’re never quite the same again.

The reality is, people fear what they don’t understand.

And for generations, we’ve misunderstood orcas, labeling them “killers” while locking them behind glass.

Image by Brad Roaman

That glass made them crazy… as it would any of us.

But when you meet them where they truly belong, in the open ocean, you realize just how wrong we’ve been about orcas.

We have nothing to fear from them. 

The only thing we should fear is living in a world without them.

Travel Day. Goodbye Baja… Sort of.

May 24 – Travel Day
I'm headed home! It’s wild how fast these past four weeks have flown by, packed with magic, incredible wildlife, wild weather, and unforgettable moments shared with amazing people. I feel so lucky and humbled that this is my job. That I get to introduce people to wildlife, help them along their photography journey, and tell stories through it all.

Now I’m sitting here thinking: what are they seeing out in Baja’s waters today?

Actually, never mind. I probably don’t want to know… FOMO is real.

I already miss Baja, but thankfully I’ll be back in just two weeks. This is a short break. Originally, I was supposed to head to Africa to swim with Nile crocodiles, but that trip has been postponed until later. More on that another time.

For now, I’m going to recharge with some much-needed family time, do laundry, get some fresh merchandise made (I’m out of ball caps and my SDM t-shirts are worn to death), and then head back to Baja, because I’ve got unfinished business.

Top of the list? Orcas hunting mobula rays. That’s the moment we’re after.

We did witness them kill and eat a mola mola, which was incredible to see. Felt bad for the mola—but that’s the circle of life.

In the ocean, something is always eating something else. Molas have to eat, and so do orcas.

I woke up at 5 a.m. today to drive two hours to the airport and drop off our trusty van, Beluga. She was good to us—reliable, sturdy, and part of the team.

I always feel a little guilty peeling off the Tibby sticker from her nose before returning her to the rental company. I know it sounds strange to get sentimental about a van, but I really believe things carry meaning. Maybe not a heartbeat like ours, but they have a kind of spirit, especially when they’ve carried you through an adventure.

During this short break, I’ll be editing a few YouTube videos, writing daily blogs, and sharing behind-the-lens stories from our time in Baja, including what it took to get specific shots.

Right now, I’m sitting in the Houston airport, waiting for one last flight home… and still wondering what they saw out there today in Baja.

Damn it. I really don’t want to know... but yeah, I do.


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