The Song Beneath the Waves

New Caledonia, Coral Sea, South Pacific

Beneath the shimmering surface, where sunlight slowly fades into the deep blue, a sound rises. It is not a voice, not exactly, but something grander, a pattern of sound that travels great distances through the ocean. This is the song of the humpback whale, one of the most haunting and mysterious expressions of life on Earth.

After storms and heavy swell, a brief calm opens, just enough for us to sail out and listen for the humpbacks...

To listen to whales, and other bioacoustics of the sea, we use a hydrophone, a microphone that detects sound waves underwater.

Although all humpback whales are capable of vocalizing, but only males have been observed singing. These songs are most often heard in their tropical breeding grounds, where all males of a community sing the same song throughout the season.

Each song is a long and complex symphony of moans, cries, and pulses that can last for up to 30 minutes or so and will be repeated over and over again over the course of hours or even days.

What makes these songs extraordinary is not just their captivating beauty, it’s their evolution. Over seasons and years, the songs evolve. A phrase is dropped, a new motif introduced, and suddenly the entire community begins to sing the new version. It is a cultural transmission of complex and repetitive patterns that is only found in Humpback whales besides humans.

Scientists are still puzzling over the purpose of these songs. Are they love songs, declarations of territory, or something we haven’t imagined yet? Some studies suggest courtship or communication between males. What is clear is that the song matters, it binds whales together across immense distances and generations.

Below are a few recording excerpts from our time at sea;

Hearing a humpback whale’s song is like listening to the ocean’s memory, a living record of migrations and ancient marine rhythms. These calls travel through the ocean, connecting whale communities in a network of sounds. But today, shipping, sonar, and seismic exploration, increasingly dominate the soundscapes whales use...

The humpback’s adaptive song reminds us that conserving these animals also means protecting the acoustic habitats they depend on...

 

Physics Meets Folklore: Dancing Elves

Orust, West Coast of Sweden, Scandinavia

When the seasons turn and autumn presses its cool breath across the land, something begins to stir on the fjords and lakes. The water still carries the memory of summer, while the air has already stepped into winter’s threshold. Between them arises a fragile balance, and from that balance something almost magical is born.

Mist rises. Thin, pale threads of vapor drift where warmth meets chill. 

In Sweden, we call them dancing elves. And rightly so, what else could drift so lightly, curling and swirling above the mirror of water, vanishing as the sun grows stronger?

 

 

To the physicist, it is a simple process; water evaporates from the surface, and when the warmer breath of the fjord encounters the colder air, it condenses into tiny droplets, visible as smoke drifting across the water. A phenomenon of thermodynamics, perfectly explained, measured, predictable. Yet when you stand at the shore in the quiet dawn, that explanation feels too bare. The mist does not only drift, it bends and circles like dancers tracing silent steps over the water.

 

 

Perhaps that is the beauty of autumn’s veil on the waters, it belongs to both worlds at once. To science, it is condensation, to the eye, it is enchantment. One truth does not cancel the other. Rather, together they deepen the wonder. The fjord exhales, the air responds, and between them the elves are born...

... shimmering, fleeting, gone when the sun climbs higher.

To witness them is to stand at the meeting point of knowledge and myth, reason and reverie. The fjord teaches physics, the elves teach wonder. And when they vanish, they remind us that every physical law carries its own kind of poetry, if only we pause to see it.

 

 

Fragile Beauty Beneath the Nordic Seas

Norwegian Fjords & West Coast of Sweden

When we think of corals, visions of tropical lagoons and colourful fish often come to mind. But far from these sunlit seas, in the cold, dark waters of Scandinavia, lies a quieter wonder: cold-water corals.

 

 

These are not reefs kissed by sunlight, but gardens of shadow and stone, growing where the sea is silent and cold, yet very much alive.

 

 

Unlike tropical corals that depend on sunlight and shallow waters, cold-water corals thrive in temperatures as low as 4°C, often hundreds of meters deep...

But along the Scandinavian coast, especially in Norway’s fjords and at the west coast of Sweden, cold and nutrient-rich currents allow certain coral species to survive at relatively shallow depths.

 

The most iconic of the coldwater corals is Lophelia pertusa (now classified as Desmophyllum pertusum), a reef-building coral that creates vast underwater structures, some thousands of years old. 

These reefs are oases of biodiversity, providing shelter to fish, crustaceans, and countless invertebrates in a landscape that otherwise seems bare and barren. Usually found hundreds of meters deep, Lophelia reef has been recorded as shallow as 39 meters. 

 

  

Other cold-water species, such as soft corals like Dead Man’s Fingers and colorful sea anemones, are more commonly found at diveable depths, contributing to vibrant underwater landscapes.

Poetic in name and haunting in form, Alcyonium digitatum, commonly known as Dead Man’s Fingers, is one of the most recognizable cold-water corals in Scandinavia.

 

Found from just a few meters below the surface down to around 50 meters, these soft corals appear as pale, finger-like projections, sometimes orange, sometimes ghostly white, clinging to rocks, wrecks, and piers. For divers, they offer one of the most accessible glimpses into cold-water coral life, a soft, surreal forest beneath the waves.

 

Dive a little deeper and you might be lucky enough to witness the Fireworks Anemone (Pachycerianthus multiplicatus), an ethereal creature that looks more like a celestial spectacle than a living being.

 

 

Buried in soft mud, this anemone extends long, delicate tentacles that radiate like fireworks frozen in time. With translucent pinks, purples, and creams, it is both fragile and mesmerizing, feeding passively on plankton drifting in the deep. 

 

The Fireworks Anemone is highly sensitive to disturbance, thriving in calm, undisturbed seabeds, habitats that are increasingly rare due to bottom trawling and sediment disruption from activities like dredging, aggregate extraction, and offshore installations.

 

 

Despite their resilience to cold and darkness, cold-water corals remain highly vulnerable to human activity. Bottom trawling, where weighted nets are dragged along the seafloor, can destroy reef structures that have taken centuries to form. Sedimentation from coastal development and intensive fishing can smother delicate suspension feeders and anemones, disrupting entire benthic ecosystems.

 

For those willing to brave the cold, the waters off the Scandinavian coast offer a rare and humbling diving experience. To descend into these depths is to enter a cathedral of stillness, where ancient life clings to rock and current, largely unnoticed by the world above.

 

 

You won’t find swarms of tropical fish here. Instead, you’ll find a slow, intricate dance of life: a forest of fingers, a burst of silent fireworks, and corals sculpted not by sunlight, but by time.

These are the cold gardens of the North, and they are every bit as precious, and at risk, as any reef in the tropics. 

 

 

Cold-water corals represent a rare and fragile ecosystem of great biodiversity, one that we cannot afford to lose. They remind us of something fundamental: that life, in all its strangeness and adaptability, can thrive even in the darkest, most overlooked environments on Earth.

An Ocean of Life to Preserve

Columbretes Islands, Mediterranean, Spain

The Mediterranean Sea is a global biodiversity hotspot, home to iconic species like sea turtles, monk seals, groupers, dolphins, and whales. 

Despite covering less than 1% of the world’s ocean surface, the Mediterranean Sea is home to 10% of all known marine species, and 28% of them are found nowhere else on Earth.

But this precious sea is in crisis...

 

Centuries of overfishing, coastal development, and pollution have pushed many species and ecosystems in the Med to the edge. 

To turn the tide, one of the most effective tools we have is the creation of marine reserves, areas of the sea where nature is given space to recover and thrive, free from harmful human activity.

An example is the Columbretes Natural and Marine Reserve, situated northeast of Valencia off the eastern coast of Spain.

Established in 1990, this protected area surrounds a small volcanic archipelago and serves as a vital sanctuary for marine life. Fishing is strictly prohibited, allowing the ecosystem to recover and thrive.

 

 

In reserves like Columbretes, we see the real, measurable benefits of protection: fish populations recover, habitats regenerate, and biodiversity flourishes. These positive effects often extend beyond the borders of the reserve, contributing to healthier seas and more sustainable fisheries in surrounding areas.

Only a small fraction of the Mediterranean is fully protected, far less than what is needed to safeguard the future of this unique sea. 

We urgently need to expand and support marine protected areas, they are not about closing the sea, they're about giving it a chance to heal.

 

Every Ripple Holds A Story

New Caledonia, Coral Sea, South Pacific

 

Let the wind guide you, with endless curiosity for the mysteries beneath the sea, where the underwater world calls out, whispering stories of deep, timeless dimensions. 

 

There’s something magical about being out here, where the horizon meets the sky, and the ocean stretches endlessly in every direction. 

 

Every ripple tells a tale, every breeze carries a secret...

 

 

 

Here’s a collection of photos from some of our ventures among the salty waves, where every wavelet holds a story... 

 

Each picture is a frozen moment, a snapshot when we are completely immersed in the rhythm of the sea. The salty air, the turquoise water, the play of light and wind on the surface of the sea, everything becomes a part of us, blending with our own saga.

 

 

 

There’s a unique thrill in playing with the wind, whether carving through the waves on a kiteboard or soaring over the water on a foil. 

The wind calls to adventure, lifting you into a playful interaction with the sea. Kitesurfing and wing foiling are not just sports, they are invitations to embrace nature's energy, to glide with the wind as it carries you across the water.

 

 

And then there’s the wonderful underwater world, my greatest passion. Whether I’m exploring life beneath the surface while diving, or gliding by on a single breath when freediving, the ocean feels alive in a way that words can’t capture. It’s a realm of quiet wonder, where time seems to stand still, and every movement is embraced by the mysteries that lie beneath the surface.

 

 

 

While seeking shelter from stronger winds, we discover a hidden gem, a sweet little treat by a peaceful creek, where time yet again seems to slow, and the lively flow of water whisper its own energetic tales.

 

Out at sea or in a cozy, flourishing shelter, nature’s magic is everywhere.  It’s not just a feeling, it’s a constant companion, ever-present, ever awe-inspiring...

 

 

Marine Reserves with "No Take Zones"

New Caledonia, Coral Sea, South Pacific

Spending plenty time on boats, exploring both above and below the water, I’m always heartened by the positive impact marine protected areas have on the environment and its inhabitants. 

It gives me hope to see how no-take zones serve as lifelines for marine species, offering them a safe haven to thrive and grow.

 

 

Marine protected areas with no-take zones are like safe havens for fish, allowing them to grow big and live long. 

Take the Humphead wrasse, or Napoleon fish (Cheilinus undulatus), for example. These majestic creatures are among the largest reef fish in the world, reaching up to 2 meters and weighing as much as 180 kg. 

When left undisturbed in their vibrant coral reef homes, these gentle giants can live for around 30 years, a powerful reminder of the importance of protection and peace in nature.

No-take marine reserves are among our most vital sanctuaries, safeguarding ocean ecosystems and the precious species that depend on them. In these sacred spaces, where fishing and extraction are forbidden, marine life flourishes undisturbed, allowed to thrive in peace, peace that is quickly fading elsewhere in our seas.

When comparing protected and non-protected areas, the importance of no-take reserves cannot be emphasized enough.

They serve as sanctuaries where marine life can recover, grow, and contribute to the overall stability of our oceans.

 

Lagoon neighbour: Ocellated Eagle Ray

New Caledonia, Coral Sea, South Pacific

Every time I see an eagle ray gliding through the water, a strange calm washes over me.

They move as if they carry the ocean’s deepest secrets, quiet, timeless, and filled with a beauty that stirs the soul.

Like in a silent dance, they drift by like whispers in the sea, elegant, unhurried, and full of wonder...

 

 

The ocellated eagle ray (Aetobatus ocellatus) is a species of cartilaginous fish, just like all rays and sharks.

It's known for its broad, wing-like fins and the eye-catching spots that cover its back -those spots are actually what inspired its name, since ocellatus means "having little eyes" in Latin.

 

The beautiful pattern of spots on its back is unique to each individual, much like a human fingerprint.

 

You can find this ray in warm, tropical waters across the Indo-West Pacific. It tends to stick around coastal areas, where it glides effortlessly through the water.

Interestingly, this species used to be grouped together with the spotted eagle ray (Aetobatus narinari), but scientists later found enough differences to split them into separate species. The spotted eagle ray is now considered an Atlantic-only species, while the ocellated eagle ray lives in the Indo-Pacific. 

 

Ocellated eagle rays mainly feed on shellfish, like clams, crabs, and other small creatures that live on the seafloor. They use their flat, strong teeth to crush the hard shells of their prey.

They give birth to live young, a process called ovoviviparity, where the babies develop inside eggs that stay within the mother’s body until they hatch.

Since they don't have many offspring and reproduce slowly, their populations are sensitive to fishing pressure and habitat loss. Due to its vulnerability and declining populations in some regions, Aetobatus ocellatus is of conservation concern.