Stunning rare images of polar bear scavenging on a sperm whale captured in the Arctic
Photographer Roie Galitz is no stranger to photographing wildlife. Here’s why he says this scene is unusual.
A sperm whale lies on its side amid shards of polar pack ice, dead and decomposing, its mouth hanging open in a silent scream. The lateral image on a flat plain resembles a textbook’s illustration of a whale, save for the blackening flesh, with scaly orange spots of deterioration like rust on an old boat. The composition is so captivating, a viewer might not initially notice the polar bear ambling along the whale’s back.
Photographer Roie Galitz happened upon the scene after receiving a message from a friend who initially spotted the whale carcass at 82° north, well above the Arctic Circle. In early July, Galitz was leading an expedition for a small group of nature lovers and photographers along the Norwegian archipelago of Svalbard upward into the Arctic Ocean toward the North Pole. Upon finding the black hump rising among a sea of ice, Galitz and his crew took a full 24 hours to pilot their ice-breaker vessel through floes to situate themselves along the carcass—only to find a male polar bear snoozing nearby.
Galitz’s photography class, with daily image review and editing sessions, took on a new dimension as he leapt into action, leaning over the boat’s hull to get as low as possible to photograph the female polar bear who eventually joined the scene.
“The guests—since it’s their first time there, and my 34th time—didn’t appreciate how incredibly lucky they were,” says Galitz.
How a whale found its way north
Indeed, that latitude is typically too high north for sperm whales, which enjoy temperate waters all around the world but tend to stay away from ice. In addition to notifying other photographers in the area, Galitz alerted two whale scientists, Michelle Dutro from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration and Sean O'Callaghan at Atlantic Technological University in Galway, Ireland.
“Both were excited about this sighting just because it’s super rare. Sperm whales are deep divers, so they usually stay on the west part of Svalbard, [and it’s] only the males. Females and calves stay farther south where it’s warmer,” he says.
The experts Galitz spoke with speculate that the whale was carried north by the current and wind. As for a cause of death, the scientists could not find visible evidence of what killed the whale. They suspect old age, exposure to a lethal toxin, or perhaps injury from a boat. “Without better indications, I think it's impossible to find out,” says Galitz.
Since Galitz’s expeditions generally follow the shot instead of a schedule, the boat camped out near the whale for another 24 hours, during which he launched a drone over the scene. “That’s when you really get the grand scale of things. I had an idea of what to expect, but I didn’t expect it to be that epic,” he says.
Aboard the vessel, Galitz had a screen allowing him to see what the drone saw, and adjust shutter, aperture, and ISO as needed. The thrill of the experience was overwhelming. “When I was flying the drone, I was shouting and cursing, just because as a photographer you get really excited,” Galitz laughs. “The day I stop being excited is the day I stop taking photos.”
The resulting image, seen above, was so fantastical that some viewers on social media actually accused Galitz of creating or manipulating it with AI.
“Unfortunately, this is something we see more and more these days. When an image looks really unique and special, people automatically become more and more skeptical that it’s real,” he says. “I understand where it's coming from, because people have been fooled… and they find it hard to believe, once that trust they had with images was broken.”
Frustrating as it is, Galitz is always eager to respectfully explain that he not only has many thousands more photos from the day, with multiple angles, but the raw files as well. But “I think this is the reality we live in,” he says.
Capturing the scene
Over the course of that day in July, the group stayed with the whale, while Galitz captured it in fog, daylight, and midnight sun. A few hours after arrival, a female polar bear joined the male, and the photographers watched as the pair fought to get through the thick skin. Scratchmarks appeared in the whale’s leathery hide, as the female licked, bit, and stretched her jaw to break into the flesh. “The way she was moving around, getting on, getting off, getting in the water, trying everything she could in order to get in, you would imagine she’s frustrated,” Galitz says.
At moments, the bears slurped fresh meltwater off the floes, rolled on their backs, and jumped around; their playful nature is one Galitz loves watching them.
Under the bears’ paws, the surface of the carcass yielded and bounced, as decomposition released pockets of gas. “It's like a big air cushion, and not as solid as you might think,” he says. The boat crew were lucky to avoid the less pleasant aromas of the process. “With the Arctic, it’s like being in a big freezer,” Galitz says. “But sometimes you get a sniff.”
Finally, the group moved on, and he heard from colleagues that within days, the carcass was pushed away by northerly winds and ultimately lost. The following week, Galitz returned with another group of photographers and adventure seekers, and confirmed the whale was gone.
“It’s so unpredictable and fragile,” he says. “A scene you saw today will probably not be there tomorrow.”
