We’ve waited over ten days for a floe edge to form, so when Tommy powers back into camp after a reccy on his snowmobile we all want to know what he has to report, ‘It’s there, the ice has broken off, ‘ the 66 year old Inuit wildlife officer shouts with a toothy grin.  This is the moment that we have all been waiting for, to swim with Arctic whales.  

 

First come the narwhal, mottled grey and white. I am only about 20 metres out from the ice edge, snorkelling, when a family group of six passes directly below me singing to each other as they go, the males with their distinctive tusks spiralling out in front of their heads.  The sight took my breath away. The narwhal are clearly aware of the few strange neoprened objects at the surface but aren’t stopping to investigate.

 

At last, a group of inquisitive beluga approach, blowing bubbles at us, and following us back to the ice edge each time we leave to warm up with some hot chocolate.  Beluga have unfused cervical vertebrae and so can turn their heads to follow our every move, as they swim along on their backs below, shadowing our every twist and turn. Paul Jackson has brought along his hydrophones to capture their sounds and sits on the floe edge in a folding chair smiling to himself as he makes his recording.  Most of the rest of us are floating, snorkelling on the surface, or free diving down, cameras in hand. Known as sea canaries to early sailors, the whale song reverberates through your body, you can both hear and feel the song.

 

The floe edge works as a whale highway as the animals use them on their northward spring migration, sending out regular patrols to search out safe new leads for the pod to follow.  On a good day hundreds of whales cruise by, groups of up to twenty tusked narwhals and pods of curious white beluga.  

 

After many Arctic diving trips, I have two secret weapons under my SEAC drysuit.  A Fourth Element Arctic two piece undersuit keeps me pretty toasty and I have to confess that I rarely took it off for two weeks, but what the hell, no one else could wash either so there were no complaints. Between that and my drysuit I use a Typhoon Icebreaker – a battery operated neoprene hot vest developed for the military to extend my dive times as much as possible.  Keeping your body core at 42 degrees, it stops the body withdrawing blood from the extremities and means that you can stay in the water at least 50% longer than without it.    

 

The Arctic is not the most obvious of dive destinations. Simply being there offers an incredible experience. Having a chance to meet experienced Inuit guides and benefit from their knowledge is a real plus, but being able to venture below the ice is the ultimate adventure, to feel and be part of an ocean teeming with life. But to see Arctic whales, hear their sounds in the water, through the ice and through your body, and to connect in a way impossible to describe is a real privilege.   I’ll be back as soon as I can.