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Posted by Emily Hunter at 09:31 AM ET | Comments (1)
[Editor's note: this is the last of Emily's dispatches from Antarctica. She is now safely back on land and working on a feature article for the May-June 2009 issue of This Magazine. You can go back and read the full run of Emily's "Polarized" blog here.]

We received word that a commando ship was after us in the Antarctic Ocean. It was the night of February the 7th, and the Sea Shepherd ship, the Steve Irwin, had chased the Japanese whaling fleet for seven days and nights, stopping them from killing more whales. The chase had come to a climax the day before when there was a collision with the Sea Shepherd ship and a harpoon vessel. But our battle had to end now. News came through that a Japanese security ship would be in the area within a day. The goal of the commando: to board the Sea Shepherd vessel (potentially violently), arrest the crew and destroy video footage, as well as any photographic evidence we had of the hunt.
Many of us onboard wanted to keep fighting. We were willing to risk injury, arrest, perhaps our lives for the cause we had been pursuing since December. And the Sea Shepherd ships have always been expendable: they have been used in ramming and sinking vessels they oppose since 1977 (in non lethal ways, i.e. sinking ships in port with no crew aboard). But the real risk was to our cameras.
The camera has been a tool for change in the environmental movement for over 35 years. The footage we have now showcases the killing of whales, an illegal act in itself — but one that groups like Greenpeace have already shown the world. But we also had captured the whalers on film violating other laws, including their aggressive, violent, and potentially lethal tactics to harm people. The last few days' worth of events had provided a wealth of footage that the world needs to see.
To save our cameras, and to save the footage we've captured with them, might force more governments into action on the issue. So Captain Paul Watson decided to head away from the fleet. We headed southwest for McMurdo base, a U.S. research station near the Ross Ice Shelf (the largest free-standing ice mass on the planet — it's the size of Texas). Slowly, we lengthened the distance between us and the Nisshin Maru, the flagship of the Japanese whaling fleet. At first, we charted a course away from McMurdo, in order not to give away our destination and our course. By falling behind the fleet, it would look like we had mechanical problems and were still tailing the fleet, instead of leaving.
It was February 9th at 9 a.m. when we arrived at the Ross Ice Shelf. It appeared we had escaped the fleet unharmed and the ruse seemed to be working: the fleet had not whaled for another day after we left. It seemed we could relax and enjoy the Ross Ice Shelf, which is an amazing sight. It looks like an ice wall, glowing neon blue, that goes as far as the eye can see on either side of it. It towers a hundred feet above the water, so that you can't see the top of it without a helicopter. The ice goes 900 feet below the water line. We were ending the campaign on a high note, or so we thought.
Out of the fog ahead, we could see a ship. At first the spotters thought it was nothing, an Antarctic mirage. But it wasn't. We thought it might be a legitimate research vessel, a tourist boat, a supply ship — anything but the commando vessel after us. Luckily, it wasn't what we feared, but in a way it was just as bad: the mystery ship was a spotter vessel from the whaling fleet, the Kyoshin Maru 2. Instead of spotting for whales, it was now spotting for us.
Knowing our coordinates were being relayed to the fleet and commando ship, we left the Ice Shelf and ran full-tilt to McMurdo. But it soon became clear that wasn't going to be possible either: hard ice surrounded the base, and all other bases near the Ross Sea. At that point on February 9, Captain Watson decided to head due north to Australia. We would head straight for land and hope that the commando ship did not intercept us. We had no other choice.
I'm writing this 72 hours into our journey north, and we believe we're in the clear. At this point, if the fast commando ship were going to board us, they would have already done so. We are out of the area of the fleet and heading home.
The battle this year is over, but the war continues. Its a war for the whales, but its also for a larger ecology. This is a war because the political conflict over whaling has spurred dangerous confrontations this year, the most dangerous in the history of this conflict. The two sides battled it out for their opposing visions, and national leaders have also chimed in, condemning and condoning the actions of both sides. Some lives — the lives of whales, which Sea Shepherd believes have as much worth as human lives — have been lost, but others have also been saved. The activists could claim this much as victory, for now. But the war still rages on.
Emily Hunter is an environmental journalist. She is currently working on a book about young environmental activism, The Next Eco-Warriors and a documentary on illegal whaling in Antarctica.
Posted by Emily Hunter at 12:59 PM ET | Comments (1)
Click here to read part one of this post

The battle gets ugly. The whalers are desperate. Sea Shepherd keeps blocking the transfer of dead whales, making further whaling impossible in the Southern Ocean. The Sea Shepherd ship, the Steve Irwin, stays close to the stern of the whaling fleet's "mother ship," the Nisshin Maru, preventing any harpoon vessels from transferring their whale cargo to the processing ship.
Desperate for their product not to be spoiled as whales hang dead off the side of two harpoon ships, a third harpoon ship is sent to attack us. Yushin Maru No. 2 closes in on the Steve Irwin, coming within 20 feet. The crew throws metal bolts and uses high-pressured water-cannons on the Sea Shepherd crew. They send blasts from the Long Range Acoustic Device (LRAD), the non-lethal — but extremely painful — sound cannon mounted on board. Then the Yushin cuts dangerously close across our bow several times, and finally, the two ships collide.
"It was a slight nudge, but gangster tactics if I have ever seen them," says Laurens De Groot, a policeman from Holland.
After hours of this chase, the Nisshin Maru ahead turns to circle around. The Irwin, as well as all the harpoon vessels follow, and it becomes a bit like a lethal marry-go-round. We went around in circles like this for hours, nearly causing me to get sick. But my adrenaline was pumping, which kept my seasickness at bay.
Eventually all the ships straighten out, at which point the harpoon boats carrying dead whales attempted to transfer their cargo, with us 100 metres away. The harpoon ships wedged their way between us and the Nisshin maru, and within seconds ropes and lines were being tossed back and forth between the Nisshin Maru and the harpoon ship to begin the transfer.
Unwilling to allow this to happen, Captain Paul Watson took the helm and attempted to get the Steve Irwin between the two vessels ahead, cutting the transport line in the process. Within twenty feet of the vessels, the Irwin shook wildly in their wake. Defiant and unafraid it appeared, the whalers stood their ground and successfully sent the whale up the Nisshin's slipway.
But all was not lost, sailors on board the Yushin Maru No. 3 were getting ready to hastilyy transport a second dead whale onboard. This would be the fifth whale delivered to the Nisshin if successful. We believed this would be the final straw — the whalers would know they could continue their illegal operation with or without the activists around.
Again the harpoon ship came alongside the Nisshin quickly and within seconds lines were being exchanged. Captain Watson steered the Irwin closer than ever, 15, perhaps 10 feet behind the ships ahead. He was attempting to wedge between the ships and cut the line: we were so close it looked like it would be successful. But then I saw it — the whale was in the water on its way to the slipway. Before I could turn to tell anyone, the Irwin was out of control from the choppy waves the harpoon ship produced.
Suddenly, the ship was ten degrees on its side.
Both ships had collided. It looked like each ship was halfway headed into the ocean and halfway up in the air. I was on portside, the side headed for the ocean. But all I could see was the starboard side up in the air. Water cannons were sprayed onto the crew of the Irwin from the harpoon vessel, while the Sea Shepherd activists threw rancid butter cans onto the decks of the harpoon ship. There was a lot of screaming and yelling from both ships, and the screeching of metal as the two vessels slid off each other. This truly felt like war.
Once our ship was off the harpoon vessel, the whaling ships steamed ahead. We fell back to check the damage. The crew found holes in the ship's hull, but they were all above the water line, and there were no serious injuries to the crew. We're safe — just barely. But the Sea Shepherd crew made their stand for the whales.
At that point, whaling stopped. The whalers did not attempt to kill or transfer any more that day. It was 6:30 pm and the battle had ended. But the war goes on.
Five whales lost their lives in this battle on February 6th. But many more would live, because forty individuals from around the world and one black ship made a stand against whaling at the bottom of the world. They stopped a six-ship whaling fleet and its 240 person crew in their illegal hunt for over five days, and put the government-run Japanese organization, the Institute of Cetacean Research, at a stand-still. And they cost the private company, Kyodo Senpaku, that profits off the hunt, tens of millions of dollars. They hurt the whaling industry by making its business less feasible.
Emily Hunter is an environmental journalist. She is currently working on a book about young environmental activism, The Next Eco-Warriors and a documentary on illegal whaling in Antarctica.
Posted by Emily Hunter at 03:19 PM ET | Comments (0)
It's 6:30 in the morning, I fall out of my bunk to the zigzagging motion of our ship and loud sirens coming from outside. I run to the bridge and see high-pressured water-cannons spray the entire port side of the ship. With our crew and my friends outside getting swamped by the water. We pass the Nisshin Maru, the 'mother ship' of the Japanese whaling fleet, on our port. Crew on our eco-ship toss over stink cans to contaminate the whalers decks. I find out from an officer that a whale has been killed under our watch. It's now being chopped up and packaged onboard the mother ship. The Sea Shepherds are fighting to stop it from continuing.

It's February 6th and after five days chasing the Nisshin Maru through the Antarctic Ocean, the fleet finally retaliated. For five days, Sea Shepherd had disabled the fleet's whaling operation by chasing the fleet's ships so they couldn't effectively hunt whales. But today, they tested their ground and killed a whale. The Sea Shepherd ship, the Steve Irwin, was two nautical miles away from the Nisshin Maru when it happened, making it impossible to stop.
One of the fleet's harpoon ships, the Yushin Maru No. 1, had a dead Minke whale lashed to its portside. Within minutes, the whalers transported the dead, bleeding carcass up the slipway to the Nisshin Maru for processing. In thirty minutes, there was nothing left of the whale but a spinal cord and the harpoon.
Keeping the processing ship, the Nisshin Maru, on the run had shut down whaling for eleven days during 2008's anti-whaling campaign by Sea Shepherd, and five days this year. But now the Sea Shepherd activists had to improvise a new strategy — and fast. The fleet was now whaling again, the very thing Sea Shepherd had come here to stop them from doing, and they were doing right it in front of us. We were no longer intimidating and the group had lost its ground in this whale battle.
Within two hours, the fleet had transferred two more dead whales to the Nisshin for processing. During this time, the Irwin was still narrowing its distance to the mother ship, but was unable to do anything but watch the blood and guts come pouring out of the "death ship" ahead. Reports of two more whales killed and on their way to the Nisshin come in from our helicopter in the air. But before they can be transfered, a plan is hatched.
"Blockade the stern. Allow no more whales to go up that slipway — that is our objective," says Paul Watson, captain of the Irwin and founder of Sea Shepherd. Blocking transfer would make killing any further whales impossible for the fleet. First Mate Peter Hammarstedt, a Swede, brings us within 200 meters of the mother ship's stern, blocking the fleet's transport. And stopping whaling once again. But will it work? For how long? Can we gain our ground back again in this whale war?
...Read Part Two in tomorrow's blog post.
Emily Hunter is an environmental journalist. She is currently working on a book about young environmental activism, The Next Eco-Warriors and a documentary on illegal whaling in Antarctica.
Posted by Emily Hunter at 12:32 PM ET | Comments (0)
It is day 5 of chasing our target, the Nisshin Maru, the "mother ship" of the Japanese whaling fleet. On the message board near the ship's kitchen, it reads: "Five days of no whaling!" Every day that the Sea Shepherd ship has the mother ship on the run is another day the entire fleet (made up of six vessels) can't catch whales.

It's estimated that 10 to 12 whales are killed per day by the whaling fleet here in the Southern Ocean. Their quota for the season is nearly a thousand whales, including some endangered species. Day five of chasing means about 50 to 60 whales have been saved, And up to US$15 million has been lost to the Japanese whaling industry. It would appear we are winning the battle for the whales. In lives, minds and against destructive capital.
In these five days it hasn't been just a chase, but more like a running battle between our ship and the fleet. With any chance the Sea Shepherds have, they deploy their high-speed Zodiacs and helicopter to harass or gain evidence. Zodiac teams throw rancid butter cans and cellulose powder (a slippery substance) to contaminate the decks of the whaling ship. The helicopter captures video and photographic evidence of the illegal hunt.
The mother ship in return sends three harpoon ships to confront the Sea Shepherd vessel and its zodiacs. Maneuvering close to the Sea Shepherd boats in an attempt to intimidate, the boats' bows hammer down some 10-15 feet away from the zodiacs. Crew on the harpoon boats throw pieces of metal at the zodiac teams.
The harpoon vessels use something called a Long Range Acoustic Device when they came alongside the Steve Irwin. The LRAD produces powerful sound waves that penetrate the skull, muscles and body, and can cause disorientation, headaches and pain to the Sea Shepherd crew. One cameraman on one of the Zodiacs was hit by high-pressure water cannons, suffering an eye injury and disorientation.
A photographer from the UK, Steve Roest, was affected by the LRAD on another Zodiac, causing him to lose his balance and hit his head on the console. He suffered a cut to his forehead and recieved five stitches. By day five, almost half the crew has cuts and bruises of some kind, but they believe it's a small price to pay to prevent more whaling.
For years, Sea Shepherd's stated intention has been that they do not aim to harm any of the whalers, and they have interfered with whaling in this way for thirty years. Recently, the same cannot be said about the whalers themselves. The whaling vessels' responses over the past few days have not only been aggressive, but approaching lethal.
"They're not just looking to stop us, they are out for blood this year" says David Nickarz, the ship's third engineer who hails from Winnipeg.
Last year, in Sea Shepherd's confrontation with the mother ship, the captain was shot at and flash bangs were thrown at the crew. This year, the whalers have shown their intentions to harm again. But Sea Shepherd is unwilling to back down, so the battle for the whales continues, human blood-shed and all.
Emily Hunter is an environmental journalist. She is currently working on a book about young environmental activism, The Next Eco-Warriors and a documentary on illegal whaling in Antarctica.
Posted by Emily Hunter at 12:37 PM ET | Comments (1)

We had been told for days that confronting the Japanese whaling fleet could happen at any moment. A battle was imminent in the Southern Ocean. A final round in the war for the whales was beginning. Every day the crew on the Sea Shepherd ship, the Steve Irwin, believed "today was the day." But it never was.
I started to think the group had missed its chance. The fleet had escaped us, and there would be no stopping the whalers, and more whales would be taken this year. But on the morning of Sunday, February 1 the day came — the eco-battle began.
Sea Shepherd began their campaign to save whales last December. A campaign destined for the bottom of the world, Antarctica, aiming to stop a whaling fleet from Japan. Within the first leg of our voyage to the Southern Ocean, Sea Shepherd had intercepted three vessels: two harpoon ships and one spotter vessel.
None of these instances concluded with the victory they had hoped for. Their goal was to find the mother ship, the Nisshin Maru, an 8,000 tonne processing ship that works like a floating factory. Stopping the Nisshin Maru would effectively stop the entire whaling fleet. Unsuccessful in their first attempt to find her, Sea Shepherd embarked on the second leg of the mission after a short stop to refuel in Australia.
After eleven days at sea, at the beginning of February, the Sea Shepherd spotters found what they were looking for: At 10 a.m., they saw the Nisshin Maru and a harpoon ship 10 nautical miles ahead of the Steve Irwin. The chase began.
It was a slow chase at first, taking 18 hours to catch up to the mother ship. But even a long, slow chase was worth it for Sea Shepherd, since keeping the mother ship on the run is the main strategy for preventing more illegal catches. As long as the Nisshin Maru is running, the fleet isn't whaling.
A year ago, the Steve Irwin found the Nisshin Maru on February 3 and shut down whaling for 11 days using this tactic. About 500 whales were saved and the quota for the fleet was cut in half. This year, the Sea Shepherds plan to chase the mother ship until their fuel tanks run dry. It could prove to be a lengthy battle, but it's an important one. For now, the chase is on.
Emily Hunter is an environmental journalist. She is currently working on a book about young environmental activism, The Next Eco-Warriors and a documentary on illegal whaling in Antarctica.
Posted by Emily Hunter at 05:30 PM ET | Comments (0)
On January 29th, we have a crew meeting on the Sea Shepherd ship, the M/Y Steve Irwin, and the officers notify us that they believe we are close to the fleet. The final battle in southern ocean whaling could be near. After five years of anti-whaling campaigns in the Antarctic waters, three confrontations this year with whalers, it could finally all end. The Sea Shepherds' goal has been to stop the "mother ship" of the Japanese whaling fleet which would disable the entire fleet from operating. We now believe we are closing in on our target.
But as we near to the possible end of this whale war, news comes in that the war in the southern ocean could end through other means — and the whaling fleet could emerge as the victor. Information leaks that there have been secret meetings by six members of the International Whaling Commission (IWC), including the United States, Australia and Japan. The purpose of the meetings are to settle the issue of the legality the fleet's whaling activities and bring Japan back into the fold of international law.
If the present talks are realized, there would be a deal struck where Japan would be allowed to commercially kill whales, both coastally in Japan and in the North Pacific. Right now, Japan is attempting to catch 935 Minke whales and 50 Fin whales in the southern oceans. But this new possible deal would allow the Japanese whaling fleet to catch at a higher level than their present quota. The deal would mean that Japan would phase out their hunt in the Antarctic waters over the next five years by twenty percent per year.
It's a strange deal, because the fleet has been catching less than its stated quota for two years already. They have only been reaching 50 – 60 per cent of their quota, and that is already the cause of global protest. The IWC's moratorium on commercial whaling, established in 1986, has not been lifted. So allowing commercial hunting by Japan in this new deal would make the 1986 ban effectively moot. Such a deal would also then recognize that the so-called "research" hunt that Japan claims to have been running over the last eight years as a commercial one, with no repercussions.
Which leads to the question: why is environmental law established if it can just be turned upside down when it becomes inconvenient for one country? How is it that there is no enforcement or repercussion towards those that kill whales illegally? Why is it that the real eco-terrorists here, the whalers, are potentially going to be given carte-blanche to continue their activities?
So the southern ocean battle for the whales may end soon — just not in the way the Sea Shepherd activists had hoped for. Will this war ever end? It seemed earlier this year as if it might, but now, perhaps not, if this deal goes through. Regardless, Sea Shepherd will continue their fight for the whales, just as they have for 30 years. They will continue in the North Pacific and in the waters of Japan if they have to.
But when we've come so close to winning this war for the whales, it's hard to swallow for me that things have only come full circle, instead of to a sensible conclusion. My parents, co-founders of Greenpeace, began the fight for the whales in the North Pacific by targeting Russian and Japanese whalers. We believed we'd won the war in 1986 with the IWC ban, but it simply began again under the guise of "research" by Japan. The 21st-century activists believed we were close to finishing this war for good. But it could just be the beginning of another chapter.
Emily Hunter is an environmental journalist. She is currently working on a book about young environmental activism, The Next Eco-Warriors and a documentary on illegal whaling in Antarctica.
Posted by Emily Hunter at 03:33 PM ET | Comments (0)
Sitting on green grass with my back resting on a tree, I pat the earth and look out at the calm world on a sunny day. The Sea Shepherd campaign I had been documenting for over a month, a campaign to save whales in the Antarctic waters, returned to land in mid-January to restock and refuel for a second trip to the southern ocean. Finding myself in Hobart, Australia, I took a break from the ship and crew I had lived with for the past 40 days at sea. But I was restless. After weeks on the heaving ocean, the land seemed calm — too calm. I think to myself: are people on land not aware of the war that has been raging south of them? The war for whales, the war for the fragile Antarctic ecosystem? Or were we on the ship too consumed by it, believing we had already won?

The reality is we have not yet won or lost. Despite the successes the Sea Shepherds had achieved in their whale-saving operations over the previous 40 days, the Japanese whaling fleet continues to operate, whales are still being harpooned, and the Sea Shepherds have not yet found their main target, the "mother ship" of the whaling fleet. However, there are real signs that this could be the year that southern ocean whaling is shut down.
"I'm very excited about this year, I believe this campaign could be the one that sets the course for shutting down the Japanese whaling fleet," says first mate Peter Hammerstedt, as he readies the ship for the second leg to the Antarctic ocean.
On the Sea Shepherds' first trip the southern ocean, they confronted the whalers three times: twice with harpoon ships and once with a spotter vessel. Confrontations included a ramming, rancid butter cans thrown on the whalers' decks, and intimidation by circling whaling vessels. Ultimately they put the hunters on the run for over three weeks with their radical tactics.
"Every day the whalers are on the run means another day they cannot kill whales. This not only saves lives but costs the fleet as they only have so many days out here to make their catch. Losing economically could mean the end of this industry," says Hammerstedt.
Limiting the whalers' quota is one goal of the Sea Shepherds. The other is to put the whaling vessels themselves out of commission. Both goals appeared to have been achieved as news came through that the Yushin Maru No. 2 (a harpoon ship) had propeller damage after a confrontation with the Sea Shepherd on December 20th. Having no choice, the harpoon ship had to stop at the closest port to be repaired, in Surabaya Harbour, Indonesia. It left the whaling fleet with one less "killing ship" while the Yushin Maru seeks repairs.
News of another set-back to the fleet surfaced with weather readings forecasting a "red" storm in the southern ocean while while we were docked in Australia. A red storm means 50-knot winds, 15 metre swells, hail and poor visibility — all swamping the area the whaling fleet was operating in. The storm would make whaling impossible. So while the Sea Shepherds themselves had to abandon the battleground temporarily, it appeared the forces of nature took over for them.
"The whalers are having a bad year. We found them within their first week of whaling, chased them, cost them and now they are in a violent storm unable to whale. Soon the storms will rest and we will be back there to stop them," says Hammerstedt.
On January 21, the Sea Shepherd crew began their second trek down south to confront their main target: the Nissin Maru. This is the mother ship that processes the whales and without this ship, the rest of the whaling fleet cannot operate. Their goal, to end southern ocean whaling, could very well be realized in the next month.
Emily Hunter is an environmental journalist. She is currently working on a book about young environmental activism, The Next Eco-Warriors and a documentary on illegal whaling in Antarctica.
Posted by Emily Hunter at 12:10 PM ET | Comments (0)
After leaving the search and recovery scene of the Japanese whaling fleet's missing man, Sea Shepherd headed for Australia. The plan was to refuel within 48 hours and return to the southern ocean to stop illegal whaling vessels. The trip back to land became a little more complicated as the Steve Irwin was tailed by a spy ship.
Late last year, on December 7th the spy ship was confirmed to be the 'Yushin Maru No. 3,' a harpoon ship in the Japanese whaling fleet. Most likely, it was sent by the fleet to track the Irwin's position to try to gain the upper hand by making the anti-hunters into the hunted.
A year ago, the tactical move of the 'spy ship' had been first used by the fleet sending the Fuki Yoshi out to the high seas. The Fuki Yoshi had no purpose to the fleet — it was not a harpoon ship, a spotter vessel, assisting to or acting as a processing ship. Its sole purpose appeared to be a sort of protest tracker ship, following such groups as the Sea Shepherds in their anti-whaling campaign.
Declaring harassment, the captain and founder of Sea Shepherd, Paul Watson, maneuvered to end the reversal of roles. Up until last year, Sea Shepherd has been the stalker while the whalers have been the stalked — not the other way around. Watson hid the 'Irwin' behind an iceberg wall readying the crew and ship for a surprise attack. Within minutes the ship's two Zodiacs, the small high-speed inflatable boats, were deployed. The mission of the crew on the Zodiacs were to spray the harpoon ship with stink cans, dyes and a slippery substance. These moves would contaminate the decks of the whaling ship and make it impossible for them to hunt any whales for days, perhaps weeks.
The Irwin's helicopter hovered over the Yushin Maru taking aerial photography and reporting on the whalers' actions. At 1300 hours, the pilot reported that the Yushin was returning to the fleet before the Zodiacs could reach them. The Sea Shepherds had gained their hunter status again. The Zodiacs were sent back to the Irwin as a storm was moving in, and the helicopter also returned as eight meter swells, a fog bank and volatile winds took over. With no further spy ships on radar the Sea Shepherds continued onwards toward land.
Emily Hunter is an environmental journalist. She is currently working on a book about young environmental activism, The Next Eco-Warriors and a documentary on illegal whaling in Antarctica.
Posted by Emily Hunter at 12:26 PM ET | Comments (0)
Imagine falling off a boat in the Antarctic waters wearing only overalls and a shirt. You yell and throw your arms about in hopes that someone on your ship will notice you. It's nighttime, and not a single person sees you. You watch your life slip away as the ship sails off into the mist. Your body begins to twitch, you lose the feeling in your body, but a warmness takes over and you begin to sleep. Within the hour you dream and never wake up again. This was the end that Hajime Shirasaki recently met.
On Monday, January 5th, in the evening, Shirasaki, an engineer on the 'Kyoshin Maru 2,' a spotter vessel for the Japanese whaling fleet, fell overboard. It was not until six hours after he fell that he was reported missing to New Zealand Search and Rescue. He was 30 years old with family back home.
"That is probably one of the worst ways to die," says Jane Taylor, an American ex-marine on board a Sea Shepherd ship, "and is also one of the most common ways to die at sea. Almost regularly there have been man-overboards in the Navy. It can happen to anyone — professionals, amateurs, or to activists."
For Sea Shepherd, who sailed their ship to the southern ocean to oppose whaling vessels like the Kyoshin Maru, the news changed the group's course. There had been manoeuvers to return to port for Sea Shepherd after a month at sea searching for illegal whalers and confronting two ships. The fuel on our ship, the Steve Irwin, was low, and Sea Shepherd would have to return to land to refuel before continuing. However, with news of a search and rescue operation, Sea Shepherd changed course to assist the search-and-rescue efforts.
This was not the first life-threatening event for the Japanese whaling fleet. In the last ten years, there have been three fires on the fleet's flagship, the Nissin Maru — one fire in the southern ocean claimed a life in winter 2007. In the spring of that same year, an industrial accident in Japan took another.
In Shirasaki's case, he was declared dead by the afternoon of January 6th. On the night of that same day, Sea Shepherd found itself in the middle of the whaling fleet. Captain Paul Watson offered the ship's helicopter and services for a recovery operation.
The Kyoshin Maru's captain responded angrily with a radio transmission saying: "We do not want your help, we do no want the help of eco-terrorists, stay away!"
For the crew on the Sea Shepherd ship it is painfully clear that they are here to save whales, not harm or terrorize people. They feel that "eco-terrorist" is an unfair label that deflects attention from the ones really making the problems for our planet, and endangering their crew's lives.
Canadian activist Shannon Mann says: "We lent out our hands to the whalers despite our differances to help in this man's recovery. We're not here to hurt people. I think we have made that clear. Our goal here is to save life, not the other way around. How does that make me or any other crew here a terrorist?"
On the bridge of the Sea Shepherd ship, Paul Watson radioed back: "out of respect for your loss, we will not interfere with you or assist in the recovery operation as you request. But once you go back to whaling, we will come back to stop you."
The crew on Sea Shepherd applauded and hollered loudly on the bridge after his transmission. Kaori translated the captains message. The media got their footage of a bold moment from the captain. And we turned and headed north, back to Australia to refuel. Watson's words were a promise: The Sea Shepherds plan to return within weeks to resume the fight againstsouthern ocean whaling. For, as many here say, they're here "not to hurt life, but to save life."
Emily Hunter is an environmental journalist. She is currently working on a book about young environmental activism, The Next Eco-Warriors and a documentary on illegal whaling in Antarctica.
Posted by Emily Hunter at 01:29 PM ET | Comments (0)
New Year's is celebrated at dawn, as the sun never sets in the Antarctic at this time of year. (The countdown slips one minute past midnight, since none of the crew has a watch on.) We celebrate on the of bow of ship, our knees shaking and our arms flexing as the motion of the ocean tosses us about. Cheers, laughter, hugs and some secret whispers like 'I love you' are passed around as we toast in the new year. I toast to my late father, wherever he may be. We throw a single wine bottle corked with our new years resolutions off the side of the ship. Some ask for the love they share with another crew member to last. Others wish for success in the school year, or for a family member to be well. But the one wish above all that unites our crew is: to end southern ocean whaling this year by intercepting the Japanese whaling fleet.
This is how the eco-activist crew on board a Sea Shepherd vessel celebrate their new year in Antarctic waters. Sacrificing their holidays is a small price to pay to be apart of a whale saving campaign for many of the crew. The loss of the annual eggnog drinking, a family dinner and an arbitrary countdown doesn't bother them. What does is the annual illegal killing of whales in the southern ocean by a fleet heavily subsidized by the Japanese government. And that is what they hope to end this year.
One thing that does weigh on many of the crew's minds are the tension between their lives back home on land, and their lives out here at sea. One UK man on board had to quit his job to join the expedition. It was a type of 'big brother' program where he helped young impoverished boys keep off the streets — a job that was near and dear to his heart. For an American engineer, he struggles between his marriage and his "true life's work" as an environmental activist, and being away on these kinds of trips for months at a time has strained his marriage. For a Dutch woman, she fights with her deteriorating health to remain an asset, and not a liability, to the ship. A Canadian student feels torn between her environmental activism and her work as an academic.
There are numerous other tensions that come with being a Sea Shepherd activist. From the pains and ills of being seasick, the always present threat of a confrontation with the whalers that could happen at any moment, to living a restricted lifestyle in terms of food, showering, sleeping, and dealing with the social complexity of living with 43 other people in a confined space for months on end. For many of the crew, they have given up their lives back home to be a part of a 'whale saving lifestyle' while for others, they have given it up for a little while and will return to life on land soon. For all the hardships, there are benefits to life on the ship, too. With a crew from around the world with a diversity of backgrounds, everyone learns from one another. For example, Laurens, a Dutch cop, teaches self defense classes; Kaori Tanaka, a Japanese student, gives Japanese language lessons.
Artistic talent too blossoms on the ship. Those that can draw color the ship's logbook with images that remind us of how beautiful Antarctica is. The musicians take out their banjos, didgeridoo and acoustic guitars to play. The photographers show us slide shows of our expedition. Even the engineers come out of the woodworks to weld and cut metals, making whale-related arts and crafts projects like whale bottle openers.
We also organize events to buoy morale. Talent show contests are among the favorite events on the ship, an event where crew display their abundantly colorful nature. We've seen Bollywood dance routines, 'Rocky Horror Show' skits, poetry reading, Karate moves, even staring contests (seeing who can go longest without blinking). We celebrated Christmas a few weeks ago with a Secret Santa gift exchange: One gift was a voucher for someone else's shower time; vegan condoms for a couple; a hand-made whale-shaped pillow; and even a ride in the ship's helicopter on a reconnaissance mission. Birthdays, as well as anniversaries, are celebrated with speeches or cakes.
It becomes a life of its own at sea on board an activist ship. We gossip in the galley. The engineers, in their time off, play Scrabble, Pictionary, and Boggle. The deckhands, mostly boys, act like brothers, wrestling and roughhousing. On the bridge watch, we are entertained by the Captain, who sings 400-year-old ballads from memory. We watch movies together, including the movies 'Happy Feet' and 'The Life Aquatic' (which we consider to be about us). There's a surprisingly big fan base on the ship for the TV show 'Nip/ Tuck.'
Our own TV show, 'Whale Wars,' season two of which is currently being filmed on board the ship, puts all our lives on display. The drama factor is increased by having the cameras around: Cameramen follow the crew's every move and interview them frequently. Smaller 'spy cameras' continuously film many of the rooms onboard. It's like living on the set of a reality show like 'Big brother,' and many of the crew find themselves editing what they say and do for the cameras.
Like all small, tight-knit groups, Sea Shepherd has a culture of its own, that can be hard to understand for outsiders. What makes them distinctly different is a new year's resolution that unites them, despite their differences: A resolution to end Antarctic whaling.
Emily Hunter is an environmental journalist. She is currently working on a book about young environmental activism, The Next Eco-Warriors and a documentary on illegal whaling in Antarctica.
Posted by Emily Hunter at 11:28 AM ET | Comments (0)
Clinging onto the very tip of the bow on Sea Shepherd’s eco-activist ship, I stare into the fog with desperation. Looking for any shape, figure or shadow that resembles the vessel we have been waiting weeks to find. I could almost smell a ship’s diesel fumes, but not see them. The Sea Shepherd ship steamed ahead through a sharp icefield purely focused on reaching this mystery ship. I was to give the hand signal to the crew on our bridge once I could identify what lay ahead. Fifteen minutes away, 0.4 miles in range, 10 minutes, 0.3 miles, 8 minutes, 7 minutes... I start to see ripples in the calm sea: they are made by the wake of the ship ahead. The lines get bigger and wider — it must be right in front of us now. Something dark looms in the mist, a shape starts to form, a slip-way I can see, a ship, a white ship with Japanese lettering — it reads Kaiiko Maru. It's a whaling vessel.
After sixteen days at sea, Sea Shepherd found its second whaling vessel in the Antarctic. The first ship was found five days before Christmas, a harpoon vessel called the Yushin Maru 2. Today, on Boxing Day, we've found a spotter vessel named the Kaiiko Maru. Both vessels are a part of the Japanese whaling fleet, aimed at hunting 1,000 whales at the south pole. And both vessels faced the wrath of Sea Shepherd's fight for the whales. But unlike the Yushin, the Kaiiko fought back.
At 6:30pm, activists on board Sea Shepherd found a target. Within the hour, the crew was in position ready for an attack, the ship was gaining on the Kaiiko and a team, including me, searched into the mist from the bow to identify our quarry. Once the Kaiiko was visible to all of us, the Sea Shepherd ship quickly came alongside the Kaiko’s port side for a Boxing Day surprise. Crew on the Kaiiko level to us on our bow turned to us in shock to see our boat nestling up beside them. In a panic they closed doors, turned their faces away from our cameras, and ran inside, bracing for a conflict.
On the Sea Shepherd, teams of two planted themselves at the bow, the bridge deck and the monkey deck (the highest deck of the ship) readying with various bottles. Bottles filled with rancid butter, dyes and methyl cellulose (a slippery substance) that would contaminate the decks of the whaling ship for days to weeks, making whaling impossible. Within seconds of passing the Kaiiko Maru, the Sea Shepherd activists throw the bottles. They're experienced shots, after weeks of practice with organic compost balls. Two, four, six, eight bottles shatter on the Kaiiko’s decks. Only two miss their target.
But the Kaiiko does not sit idly: instead, they retaliate. The Kaiiko comes in close — so close that on the bow we could have easily walked onto their deck. Suddenly, I remember the rammings from previous Sea Shepherd campaigns I had been on. In previous instances, I'd never been on the bow during one of these collisions, but I can see the Kaiiko isn't turning away. I yell to my team to "brace for impact." We all hold onto something, anything, and I grab for the anchor chain — maybe not the best choice. Screech, thump, bang! The Kaiiko struck, scrapping our port side and pulverizing one of our helicopter guard rails.
Unafraid, Captain Paul Watson at the helm turns our ship in circles around the Kaiiko. Once, twice, three times around we go. On the third turn, we just miss their stern to our bow. Their ship crosses for the last time. The two ships are so close their two crews can get a good look at each other. I stand on the bow and I stare one man in the eye as he stares back. I don't sense hate, but instead curiosity in our exchange. He probably wonders why I am doing this, fighting against his job. I wonder why he is doing this, whaling. We are from two very different worlds, a pro-whaling world and an anti-whaling world, meeting one another for the first time without words in an ecological war. I wonder in that moment: can we come to a middle ground? A ground where jobs are kept but an ecological destruction is curbed?
Minutes go by. The Kaiiko turns southeast and we let them go, to continue onwards in pursuit of the rest of the fleet. The Captain looks like a kid on Christmas morning, as happy as can be. The Kaiko’s decks are contaminated, making at least part of the whaling fleet inoperable and surely putting the rest of the fleet on notice that we are in pursuit. The crew exchange the stories of their individual experiences. High fives, hugs and even some kisses go around. The press releases get written and media calls begin. The world begins to find out about round two.
"In this game, Sea Shepherd got 2, Whalers 0," says David Nickarz, an engineer and activist from Canada.
Sea Shepherd is knee-deep in the whale wars now. The question is, will they find the Queen Bee that they need to confront to win this battle, the "mother ship," called the Nissin Maru, without getting too badly stung themselves?
Emily Hunter is an environmental journalist. She is currently working on a book about young environmental activism, The Next Eco-Warriors and a documentary on illegal whaling in Antarctica.
Posted by Emily Hunter at 11:29 AM ET | Comments (0)
From the engine room the steel frame of our ship looks like Jell-O: the Razor-sharp ice chunks, called ‘growlers,’ hammer at the metal ship as we try to pave a path of escape, and they make the ship flex from the outside in. Fears of a breach creep in: we tell nervous jokes about the Titanic to ease the tension, additional metal is welded onto the hull for extra insurance, and even the experienced captain, who takes the helm and with whom we trust our lives, has a worried look in his eyes.

“It would take anywhere between 30 minutes to several days for the ship to sink depending on the damage,” engineer Dave Nickarz, from Winnipeg, tells me while on the bridge.
It's not entirely reassuring, considering that we are in the Antarctic waters with few willing to stick their necks out to rescue a radical conservationist ship that is owned by Sea Shepherd. Labelled as ‘eco-terrorists’ by many diplomats and governments, their tactics include ramming vessels in the open ocean, boarding ships, and throwing stink bombs at those they oppose.
Few can stop them in their determination to save marine wildlife: Not harsh criticism by politicians, media and the public; not court cases, investigations or interrogations; not even underwater missile shots by the Norwegian navy, boat raiding by the Canadian coast guard off the east coast, or tear gas attacks by the Faroese.
The only thing that does seem to stop them is the god of the seas himself, Neptune. When he decides to let us see, there is up to 14 miles of visibility in every direction. When he decides to blind us, the fog can take over and we don't even see past our own bow. When he decides to cradle us, being tied up to port can feel more of a disturbance than the calm gliding through the sea. When he decides to dance with us, it is like the dance of Shiva, the god of destruction and creation. Evidently, in recent days, Neptune's been in a bad mood, and we've been battered by ice and waves.
It's kind of ironic: trying to beat back mother nature’s wrath to save her, her great leviathans of the sea, that is. Hours turn into days as the boat keeps getting cut off from its prey, the whalers, by walls of ice. Turning east, then west, northeast, then southwest. Zigzagging in a maze that seems inescapable.
Today, the fog diminishes, we can see. The dance of destruction with the seas turns into gentle cradling. The ice finds others to enslave. Neptune sets us free. And Sea Shepherd marches to its ecological battlefield.
Emily Hunter is an environmental journalist. She is currently working on a book about young environmental activism, The Next Eco-Warriors and a documentary on illegal whaling in Antarctica.
Posted by Emily Hunter at 04:50 PM ET | Comments (0)
It's five days until Christmas for environmental activists in the Antarctic Oceans. Most of them have sacrificed annual quality time with their families in their warm, safe homes this year. Instead, they've opted to sail around the southern oceans in wet, stormy, and extremely cold conditions in the hopes of tracking and stopping illegal whaling. A noble cause, many would say, but one that comes with few perks — except for one. The one Christmas present they wanted came early this year. The activists onboard the Sea Shepherd vessel, the M/Y Steve Irwin, found a whaling ship this morning.

At 10:15am on Saturday, December 20th, activists onboard the Sea Shepherd's ship spotted an unidentified vessel on radar. They believed that the vessel they spotted was a whaling ship; their aim this winter is to stop illegal whaling in the southern oceans and they had their first opportunity to do just that this morning.
The Steve Irwin aimed to intercept the mystery target but faced a beast of a storm, with 20-foot swells in the ocean, 50 mile per hour winds, blinding hail, and a mine-field of floating ice. Astonishingly, in less than an hour, they found the ship: it was one of the harpoon vessels of the Japanese whaling fleet — the Yushin Maru 2. The same ship that two Sea Shepherd activists had boarded a year previous to give the whalers a letter notifying them that their actions were illegal. An action that kept the activists hostage on the ship for two days, and stirred an international incident.
But this year would be different. The Yushin Maru was prepared for Sea Shepherd. Readying for an interception once Sea Shepherd's ship was visible to them, whalers instantly began deploying a large net across the starboard side of their vessel disabling a second-year boarding from happening.
"[As they readied the net,] they were smiling at us, it was like they know our game and are playing it now," said Amber Paarman, a 24-year old South African activist onboard.
The Sea Shepherds responded by sending out a Zodiac, their small high-speed inflatable, to throw rancid butter onto the decks of the harpoon ship. In an attempt to stink the decks of the Yushin Maru, making it impossible to kill any whales without contamination. The Irwin vessel continued onwards to chase the Yushin. But due to worsening weather conditions, with swells growing to 40 feet high, the Zodiac was called to return and the chase ended.
Heading due north in the direction of the Yushin, Captain Paul Watson called their bluff and is continuing elsewhere in the direction of the whaling fleet.
"They did this to us last year," says Watson. "They send one ship in an entirely different direction of where the whaling fleet is as a decoy hoping to fool us while the fleet heads elsewhere. But not this year. I call their bluff. We're not following their trickery."
Sea Shepherd is continuing to patrol the southern oceans in hopes that they are close to the whaling fleet. They intend to cease illegal whaling in the Antarctic waters using any and all means that do not injure human lives.
The battle for the whales has begun.
Emily Hunter is an environmental journalist. She is currently working on a book about young environmental activism, The Next Eco-Warriors and a documentary on illegal whaling in Antarctica.
Posted by Emily Hunter at 01:31 PM ET | Comments (0)
She beats a heavy heart that is her engine. She seemingly jumps up to the sky and crashes down into her own wake in the open ocean, only to repeat it again and again. She is as cold as death. Yet there is a quickening to her pace as she heads toward history-making. She is a vessel headed for Antarctica.

I'm on a vessel that left Hobart, Australia (where I boarded her) five days ago. A vessel with a man's name, the 'M/Y Steve Irwin,' she is the flagship of Sea Shepherd, a radical marine conservation group. A vessel that intercepts whalers in the southern oceans and attempts to stop the 'illegal' killing of whales by Japan. A vessel that is to be the boundaries of my life over the next several months as I reside here to document the whale-saving campaigns by Sea Shepherd.
Life at sea is not for the weak, timid, or sensitive. It's not even for people who have any kind of car-sickness — people like me. That is why for the past five days life has been more of a coma-like state than a life at all. Hugging my mattress and pressing my body against a corner in my bed so as not to fall across the room has become my usual routine. With force 8 to 9 gales and 40-foot waves, at times it seems like I am asking for death by being here. Not keeping any food down has also become a trend, to the point where what hurts more is the emptiness inside my body than the actual process of being sick. The face staring back at me in the mirror has become ghostly and the storm outside my porthole is only going to get worse.
Life at sea is a world of its own beyond the heave of the ocean. On a ship, privacy is non-existent when one shares a cabin with at least one to two strangers in a room that barely fits one person's luggage. Spending six to 12 weeks on a 180-foot vessel, co-existing with 45 crew of varying egos, really teaches you who you are. Toilets are as hygienic as a gas station. You learn strange skills, like how to shower and shave in a moving vessel without killing yourself.
Life onboard an environmental protest ship is even more colourful. For the conservation of water and fuel (in order to make the campaign last as long as possible) we restrict our water intake and energy use. This translates to three-minute showers every three days and freezing cabins. To practice what we preach, we eat three square vegan meals a day, meaning no meat or dairy in our diet, but instead tofu and vegetables. And to get the word out, cameras and media have access to everyone on the ship and everything that happens, giving it an air of and episode of 'Big Brother.'
The crew on an activist ship is probably the most unusual at sea. An all-volunteer crew come from as far as Japan, South Africa, Holland, Canada and the United States. Ages include rookies just out of high school to balding 60's. The crew's background ranges over what I call the "professionals, panthers and players": Professionals being the helicopter pilot, doctor and engineers; Panthers include ex-navy officers and cops readying for attack; the Players are those who occupy legitimate positions on the ship, such as quartermaster or deckhand, but who are really amateurs at best.
The Steve Irwin herself is probably the strangest out of all of this. It is an entirely black ship at the end of the world in the southern oceans. A black dot in the midst of great glacials patrolling vast seas for the six dots that are the whaling fleet sent by Japan. A fleet that is faster, larger and more technologically advanced than Sea Shepherd's single vessel.
This mission really is like finding a needle in a haystack. But for the last 4 years running, Sea Shepherd has found the whaling fleet and interfered with their operation. Over the last two years alone, over a thousand whales have been saved.
But this year, this black dot of the Sea Shepherd is not only opposing whaling but is pitting themselves against a great government, Japan. Sea Shepherd has cost the commerce of the whaling industry in Japan a great deal over the years and "defence" strategies by the government of Japan are going to be used this year. Air bombs, gun shootings, gases and a possible boarding are all tactics that could be used against Sea Shepherd this year.
What used to be banners and peace signs is a full scale war today in the open oceans. Life at sea is about to become a whole lot more wild as a true war for the whales is close to breaking out.
Soon my car-sickness will be the least of my worries.
Emily Hunter is an environmental journalist. She is currently working on a book about young environmental activism, The Next Eco-Warriors and a documentary on illegal whaling in Antarctica.
Posted by Emily Hunter at 12:13 PM ET | Comments (1)
They are both Canadian, in their mid-20's, female and with long brunette hair. One women is on a high-speed inflatable boat called a Zodiac in the Pacific Ocean. The other, on the bridge of an entirely black 59-metre Scottish patrol vessel in the Antarctic Ocean. The woman in the Zodiac steers her inflatable in front of a Russian whaling ship. She places herself between a harpoon and a whale. On the black ship, the other girl steers the vessel through packs of ice setting a course that is headed to intercept a six-ship Japanese whaling fleet. The woman in the Pacific is Bobbi Hunter — she was the first woman to save a whale. The woman in the Antarctic is me, Emily Hunter, in the present day. Bobbi Hunter is my mother and this is a second-generation fight for whales.

Pelagic (industrial) whaling started in the mid-1800's and within a century nearly wipped out the once-abundant giants of the oceans. Today, population levels are unknown. Many are endangered, including the fin, humpback, sperm and right whale (right whales are estimated to be as low as 300-400 in population). With the loss of so much life on this planet in our industrial awakening, the dawn of a new age arose as the 1970s ecology movement began.
My father, Robert Hunter, the first president of Greenpeace, very much set the path for the whale-saving cause in the ecological movement. He changed course of the organization in the mid-70s from an anti-nuclear testing group to a whale-saving one, prompting the ecological movement to also become a consciousness-changing movement — a change from a human-focused consciousness to an eco-inclusive one. Saving whales for the whales' sake, and an ecological sake, even if the plight of the whales does not directly affect us.
The whale-saving campaigns have come a long way since then. Not only has Russian whaling been ceased (whom the first anti-whaling campaigns opposed), but the last whaling station in the English-speaking world (in Albany, Australia) was shut down in 1977. In 1986, the International Whaling Commission's member states signed a moratorium on commercial whaling in order to allow population levels to replenish after a century of uncontrolled exploitation. Today, there are numerous organizations around the globe that fight for whales, including Greenpeace International and the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society (the only two groups that set sail to the open oceans to protest whaling head-on). Whale-saving has gone so far as to now have its own reality TV show called Whale Wars on Animal Planet Channel, showcasing Sea Shepherd's radical initiatives in the Antarctic waters to stop whaling by the government of Japan (currently, Animal Planet is filming the second season of Whale Wars on the Sea Shepherd campaign I'm travelling with).
With over 35 years of this battle come and gone and over two generations fighting it, one has to wonder — are we getting any closer to the end of this 'war'? In many ways we are, and in other ways we are not. It used to be that there was a long list of whaling nations, and now there are only three: Norway, Iceland and Japan. Whaling has been strongly curtailed since the moratorium was established. There are not only activists, but lobbyists, politicians, lawyers, scientists, and outraged citizens across the world who fight for whales. And the whaling issue has more eyes and ears paying attention to it now than it ever did.
But whether it be Russia or Japan, there is still aggressive whaling in the world (Japan, since 2001, has been targeting a thousand whales annually in the southern oceans). There are bodies that back whaling just as aggressively, for cultural, scientific, legal, political or economic ends. Tensions and divides are rising between peoples and countries (a scenario that was not the case 35 years ago). Australia and Japan, for example, have become pitted against one another over whaling, causing racist backlashes and name-calling.
Maybe our ecological-political issues are beginning to influence the rhetoric, and becoming a serious factor in our national and international decision-making. This opens up new possibilities, but also a whole new set of problems. Fractures are emerging in our global mosaic, with governments opposing each other over ecological policies.
Will we work through the new decision-making that needs to be made in the 21st century? Will my father's dream of a global ecological consciousness take shape? Or will this fight for the whales and the planet last to my children's generation with an even more diminished earth, and a bleak future?
We need to mediate these political fissures, both for our own sake, and for that of our sparkling blue planet.
Emily Hunter is an environmental journalist. She is currently working on a book about young environmental activism, The Next Eco-Warriors and a documentary on illegal whaling in Antarctica.
Posted by Emily Hunter at 01:47 PM ET | Comments (5)
[Editor's note: today we introduce "Polarized," Emily Hunter's dispatches from Antarctica, where she is documenting Sea Shepherd's 2008-2009 anti-whaling campaign aboard the Steve Irwin. The campaign lasts until the spring, and Emily will periodically post her writing, photos, and video on BLOG THIS.]

Sitting in a grey room that feels as cold and stale as a morgue, I think of death. Little can be done about this room or feeling, it is five in the morning in the mostly vacant Toronto Pearson Airport. I am about to get on a flight. But this sense of doom is more than the winter pastime in Canada, more than this place and more than being up too early in the morning with not enough caffeine. Instead, this dark cloud that hangs over me is the end of the world &mdash Antarctica.
Antarctica is no stranger to death. The extreme cold averages -30° C and monstrous storms that have little sympathy for its inhabitants are not unusual in the ice-packed summer time in the southern oceans. What is unusual is that the largest mammal species, the migratory whales, are being killed by the thousands in their annual visit. Being chased by harpoon gun boats and electric shock treatment. Antarctica now faces the cold and its largest tourist faces extinction.
Not only are humpback and fin whales (both endangered mammals) targeted in a whaling campaign by Japan, but also over nine hundred minke whales. The hunt in the southern oceans is argued to be "scientific," but many environmentalists and politicians alike claim that this is a facade for commercialism in order to make this campaign appear legal. Legal or not, few countries have been willing to pit themselves against a strong economic and political power on behalf of whales that do not pay taxes or vote. This has left many civilians angry and frustrated about environmental enforcement and our future perils. Some choosing to be labelled as "eco-terrorists" by joining groups like Sea Shepherd, than be passive observers of what they consider "planetary injustice."
Sea Shepherd, a radical marine conservation group, is notorious for using questionable tactics in the seas to stop what they consider are illegal killings of the ocean's marine life. Ramming vessels at sea and sinking in port are not unusal for the group. Fatalities — of people whom they oppose or of their crew — are unusual, however.
Some see groups like Sea Shepherd as a necessary response to the unchallenged destructive giants of our times: governments, corporations and the propaganda machines for both that keep us ill-educated and passive. Others see groups like Sea Shepherd as militant organizations that go too far. In the environmental circles, Sea Shepherd is more of an ugly step-brother. Groups like Greenpeace believe that Sea Shepherd is both ineffective, and a detractor to conservation initiatives.
Very much alone, Sea Shepherd's single ship, the M/Y Steve Irwin, is heading to the high seas of Antarctica in December in its fifth campaign to oppose the whaling fleet. This year’s campaign has been called the most dangerous and challenging campign yet for the group. With $8 million used for defence this year by whaling vessels and Japan establishing a new law where arrests can be made at sea for interference, it will not be a walk in the park. It's more like a game of Russian roulette.
Feeling cynical this morning as I am about to board an airplane, I ask myself a question: Do I get on this plane bound for a risky expedition, or go back home where it's safe and where I know what faces me?
I board the plane. Not for death, but for life.
Emily Hunter is an environmental journalist. She is currently working on a book about young environmental activism, The Next Eco-Warriors and a documentary on illegal whaling in Antarctica.
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