orca photography

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.

A Day in the Life of a Wildlife Guide and Photographer… Why This Name Finally Feels Right.

Over the years, I’ve named and renamed this blog more times than I can count.

Each time, I was trying to capture what we do, the energy of the work, the magic of the wildlife, the grit of the journey. But nothing ever quite felt right. It just didn’t fully reflect who I am or what this life is actually like.

Until now.

I’ve finally landed on a name that feels good:
A Day in the Life of a Wildlife Guide and Photographer.

It fits, because that's truly what this blog and my YouTube channel have become, a window into what we do out there. Not just the epic moments with polar bears, orcas on the hunt, or dancing with sharks... but the full reality of our days in the field.

The early mornings.
The gear failures.
The missed sightings.
The quiet days where the ocean feels empty.
The magic we chase anyway.

If you’ve watched my YouTube videos, you already know they’re far from polished.

They’re raw, in-the-moment, and definitely flawed, but I love them that way. They’re honest. They share the heart and soul of what we experience out there.

Until now, I’ve mostly shared highlights, those big, cinematic moments when nature delivers something unforgettable. And don’t get me wrong, I’ll keep sharing those.

But I’ve been thinking…

Maybe it’s time to start sharing the lows, as well.

The days when nothing shows up.
The long waits.
The breakdowns.
The hours of effort that go into those brief flashes of beauty.

It might bore some people. But I think others might find it refreshing. Real. Even inspiring. Because that’s what these trips are actually like.

Wild places don’t follow scripts. And neither do we.

So, this name, “A Day in the Life of a Wildlife Guide and Photographer” is more than just a title. It’s a direction. For this blog. For our channel. For how I want to tell these stories.

Thanks for being here, and for following along on this wild ride.

Let’s see what tomorrow brings.


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The Shot That Lives in Your Head

American crocodile. 1/250, f/11, ISO 200

Every photographer has the shot that haunts them, the one they can see so clearly in their mind’s eye but have yet to capture.

It’s more than just an image. It’s a moment, a feeling, a vision so vivid that it pulls you back, again and again, no matter how many times you miss it.

I have had several of these shots in my head. The perfect orca shot. The perfect anaconda shot. The whale. The crocodile.

I’ve visualized them over and over, played them out in my mind like a scene from a film. I know the light, the angle, the way the water will move around them. I know exactly what I want.

Sperm whale mating aggregation. 1/320, f/9, ISO 800

But I haven’t captured them yet.

And that’s why I keep going back.

There’s a strange relationship between wildlife photographers and the images we haven’t taken yet. They exist in a space between obsession and determination, a mental archive of moments that feel just within reach but never quite materialize.

I’ve been in the water with orcas in Norway, camera in hand, waiting for that perfect baitball shot, the one where the orca is perfectly positioned next to the baitball, with enough light pouring through the water to light up the herring around the orcas.

An image that is raw and powerful and fully wild. I’ve been to Norway many times, but I have not once come close to the shot I am dreaming of. Some of my friends have, and their images fire me up and fill me with inspiration.

I’ve searched for the anaconda shot that exists in my head, the massive serpent laying in the water coiled up in the sand next to a diver, perfectly framed, every colorful scale catching the light just right. I’ve been on seven different expeditions trying to get it just right.

Green anaconda. 1/320, f/9, ISO 800

Each time, I leave knowing I’ll have to come back.

Whales, sharks, crocodiles… they all live in my mind as images I am still chasing.

Some might say it’s frustrating to keep missing the shot you want. But for me that’s exactly what makes it all worth it.

Wildlife photography is about patience, yes, but more than that… it’s about persistence.

Male Orca. 1/400, f/9, ISO 1000

I have learned you just don’t get the shot because you want it bad. The ocean doesn’t care about your dreams. The animals don’t pose for you. It’s all on their terms, not yours.

So you keep coming back.

Because one day, when you least expect it, the stars will align. The animal will move into the perfect position. The water will be clear, the light just right. And you’ll be ready.

Right Whale. 1/320, f9, ISO 320

That’s the moment every photographer lives for.

That’s the moment that makes every failed attempt worth it.

And until that moment comes, I’ll keep returning.

Because the shot I’m chasing is still out there, waiting for me to capture it.

And when I finally do... It will not be because I got lucky.

It will be because I missed my shot a hundred times before.