The Best Day Ever: Drysuit Dancing, Epic Baitballs, Polar Plunges, and the Northern Lights
Date: November 11, 2025
Location: The Arctic Fjords
Weather: Crisp cold, epic orange sunrise, pulsing auroras
State of Mind: Pure, unadulterated joy
There are days in life that you know, even as you’re living them, will be etched into your soul forever. Days you don’t experience as minutes or hours, but rather as a collection of perfect, profound moments strung together by a thread of pure magic. November 11, 2025, in the fjords of Arctic Norway, was one of those days for our Seabirds squad.
Sunrise and the Spirit of Matriarchs
The day began in the most Arctic way possible: with that otherworldly, orangey-glowy light that etches into your soul. We were up before the sun to film scenes for our upcoming documentary, Matriarchs, produced by the fantastic team at Reel Earth Films.
Our director, the brilliant Katie Wardle, was there, camera in hand, guiding Ashley and I through the absurd and hilarious process of getting into drysuits with some semblance of grace. She’s wildly talented, and I have faith that she helped us look the least sausage-stuck-in-its-casing as possible.
The film, Matriarchs, features our motley crew of badass women and the whales we follow and love. It also goes beyond that, showcasing powerful connections, shared grief, and resilient communities—themes that resonate as deeply for humans as they do for orcas.
To my delight, as the rest of our team came up to the deck, a few started a spontaneous Cha Cha Slide! All we needed were maracas and a conga line to make my drysuit dancing dreams complete. Others took badass expedition pictures to showcase what a gorgeous place we get to explore in.
The Baitball Drop: When the Ocean Lifts Its Veil
Fueled by that sunrise energy, we rushed to the zodiacs (somehow, we’re always a little bit late, even with an hour head start). On the water, the fjords were quiet. Our incredible guides, Rinie and Szymon, watched the water with expert patience.
It paid off.
First, the birds started diving more erratically. Then, the water started jumping–the herring. A baitball!
Our guides positioned us right in the heart of the action. Herring swirled in a shimmering silver vortex beneath our fins. Ashley deployed the hydrophone—a "once-in-a-lifetime capture" for our Blue Echo acoustic database. Those of us in the water glued our masks to the surface, watching orca work in magnificent synchrony, herding the fish with their white bellies and the fjord walls in a breathtaking display called carousel feeding.
And then, the impossible happened.
A jagged, huge white shape emerged from the deep. It wasn't the familiar rounded white of an orca’s eyepatch or saddlepatch. It was bigger, longer, and coming right at us. Before my brain could form the word, it was there: a massive HUMPBACK WHALE, lunging up through the herring ball, mouth agape, benefiting from the orcas' hard work!
The screams behind me—pure, unfiltered shock and joy—echoed in the water. “OH MY GOD! HOLY F*CK!” My head darted up and down with this gentle giant as it descended for another gulp. It wasn’t done! It swam off and lunged again, to more screams of jubilation. Later, a teammate would confess she “definitely used her diaper” in that moment. I get it. It was that monumental.
My friend Ambar Wortham, with whom I’d shared that whale magic, later described it perfectly: “You are lifting the veil of the divine right here.” She’s right. We were witnessing the raw, unfiltered dance and beauty of nature, a privilege so few ever experience.
Science Under a Polar Night Moon
That encounter alone would have made the day legendary. But the Arctic wasn’t done with us. As the beautiful polar night settled in, our Seabirds zodiac stayed out extra late for science.
On our very last drop into the water, with no other boats in sight, the orca behaved differently. One did a full 360-degree spin around me, looking me right in the eye, lingering. Others came head-on, inspecting Katie and I, the last in, like the strange, floaty potatoes we were. It was just us and them, together yet utterly alone in the vastness—a wild, humbling feeling.
Climbing back into the boat to start the science, I finally absorbed the entire scene. We were the only vessel on the water. A half-moon rose over the stark Arctic mountains, while our mothership, MV Polar Front, glowed warmly opposite. In the foreground, humpback flukes and orca fins broke the inky black surface. It felt like we had cherry-picked the best scenes nature has to offer and thrown them into one frame. A core memory, forever.
Saunas, Plunges, and Hot Tub Confessions
Back on Polar Front, we piled into the sauna, still in our undersuits, squished, crammed, and exuberant, reliving every second. We warmed up just in time for the official polar plunge! Five of us took the leap into the icy water (thankfully prepped by Sarabeth’s sauna surprise earlier in the week!). The shot of Jaeger afterward was mandatory medicine!
To complete the beautiful medley of contrasting temperatures, we spent the next few hours in the deck’s hot tub and sauna, under a blanket of stars. Laure-anne brought us delicious, hot-tub-side mojitos, and we laughed for hours—about boys, mixed signals, Snickers bars, and everything in between. This is where expedition bonds turn into lifelong friendships.
The Sky’s Final Gift: A Raging River of Light
Again, we thought the day had given us all it could. Again, we were wrong.
As we finally dried off and gathered for late-night speakeasy chats in the lounge, the aurora borealis erupted. It started green, then became a raging, pulsing river of light so bright, we could even capture it on our phones. Then, reds appeared over a ridge. We kept pinching ourselves. “I can’t believe this is the same day as the baitball!”
We’d run into the (turned off) sauna to warm up between light bursts, taking fuzzy-jacket aurora selfies. Just as the last of us trickled toward bed, the skies blushed a magenta pink—a color I never knew the lights could make. It was the universe’s final, glorious exclamation point.
Every moment of this day was so impossibly rich. As Katie wisely said, to ask for anything more from the world on this single day would have felt greedy. And with that collective feeling of overwhelming fullness, we went to bed, hearts bursting.
Why We Do This: A Message from the Heart
This was just one day. One epic, incredible day in a string of profound experiences that connect us to nature, to each other, and to ourselves. Expeditions strip away the noise and bring out the rawest, purest elements of being human. They are constant, powerful reminders of why it’s amazing to be alive.
This—this feeling—is what The Seabirds is all about. This connection, this joy, this accessible, inclusive adventure is what we’re working to share with more people through our New Explorers Scholarship and our missions. It’s why we do the science, share the stories, and fight for the ocean.
In the quiet after the trip, our teammate Sarabeth Brockley asked a question that I think sits in all our hearts: “Still processing last week and all of the significance of that trip. Hard to feel when in flow there, but how did we get to experience some of the most exquisite pieces of life?”
I don’t have a full answer. But I know it starts with saying yes—to the cold, to the challenge, to the community, and to the call of the wild ocean. It starts with believing in yourself and knowing that there’s more to life than what’s in front of you.
Here’s to the next adventure, the next expedition, and the perfect day!
P.S. Want to help create more days like this for others? Learn about our mission to make ocean exploration and science inclusive and accessible. Support our New Explorers Scholarship or join our squad to get involved! The veil of the divine is waiting to be lifted, and we want you there with us.
