Sometimes you find yourself wondering why you’re chasing certain dreams. What sparked them? Where did they begin?
Recently, I was reminded of my own childhood curiosity, sparked in the pages of National Geographic Magazine. It was my annual Father’s Day gift to my dad, and the issues would line our bookshelf, inviting me to pull them down and open their glossy pages. The photographs were mesmerizing — bold, brilliant, and captivating. Those images from National Geographic didn’t just inspire me, they lured and beguiled me.
Years later, I found myself sitting on a beautiful waterfront deck in sunny Juneau, Alaska, with the crew of One Ocean. We were guests at the home of Theresa and Jeff, longtime friends of Mark Schrader and joined by a new couple I’d never met before, Flip Nicklin and his wife, Linda.
Flip was a renowned National Geographic photographer, specializing in marine mammals, particularly whales. He had spent over 40 years documenting humpbacks, orcas, and ocean life. His images and stories were the very ones I’d stared at in awe as a child and returned to again and again as an adult. His wife, Linda, is a writer, educator, and naturalist who collaborates with him on research and educational projects.
Flip began the evening by casually telling a story about how he was the one who discovered that male humpback whales sing to each other.
I looked over at Grace. She had already been freaking out that we were meeting the Flip Nicklin, and now her eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head.
You see, the previous summer, Grace had interned with B.C. Whales, studying, identifying and listening to humpbacks. She had returned home glowing with stories, especially one about the males and their haunting, powerful songs. She told me how these songs weren’t about attracting females, but rather a way for males to communicate and assess each other. The songs are incredibly complex, and they evolve slowly spreading across entire populations, and they're mostly sung at night. It was such a mesmerizing image that when we said goodnight over the phone, we’d end with, “Remember, there’s a humpback singing somewhere.” We even added the humpback whale’s song to the beginning of our Around the Americas presentation.
(click here for calls of a Humpback) - collected by B.C. Whales North Coast Cetacean Society under a research permit.
And here we were — with the man who had made that discovery.
People often dream of meeting a movie star, a politician, a humanitarian — someone they idolize. That night, Grace got to meet hers. Her awe and joy were contagious. But so was Flip’s.
At one point, our host Jeff walked down to the beach and placed pieces of salmon on the rocks. Within minutes, an adult and young eagle were swooping down, grabbing fish, then flying back to the trees above our heads. Out on the horizon, a young humpback spouted. It was a scene out of a dream.
Flip shared story after story, as you can imagine, he has millions. He spoke about his free diving with whales and his ability to hold his breath for six minutes. His love and passion were alive in his voice, his eyes, his whole presence. We sat completely captivated.
We left Theresa and Jeff’s home feeling deeply inspired and in awe. Watching a young ocean steward like Grace meet her hero reminded us what this is all about. It gave us hope.
We departed Juneau the next day, and not long after we were surrounded by humpbacks bubble-net feeding, as if the sea itself was honoring the moment we’d just lived.
It’s taken me a little while to write about this. Maybe because it felt like such a full-circle moment. A privilege. I can still remember a specific photo Flip took — I think it was one of those extended pull-out pages in National Geographic. It was a photo of a narwhal. I remember staring at it and thinking: If only I could be an adventurer and see one of these magical unicorns of the sea for myself.
Now, I sit here in Nome — about to set sail for the Northwest Passage.
The home of the narwhals.