It was the news that the Icelandic government had issued the last whaling operation in Europe a fresh quota to hunt fin whales once again in Iceland’s seas that prompted the marine conservationist, biology student, and underwater photographer, Frederik Broogard to submit his winning image to the 2024 Ocean Photographer of the Year competition.

It was something he’d hoped he’d never have to do. But with the devastating news of fresh whaling quotas came a new chance to draw the world’s attention to the brutality of the hunt.

*Graphic content warning*

I’d thought that commercial whaling in Iceland was finally coming to an end when the hunt was suspended in 2023 following an extensive investigation into animal welfare concerns, yet here we are, with the government still handing out licenses – albeit with fewer quotas than before.

But let’s start with some history. Hvalur HF is an Icelandic commercial whaling company led by Kristján Loftsson which, after a break during the pandemic, started whaling again in 2022. Before now, the majority of commercial whaling activity carried out in Icelandic waters has been from other nations. 

In fact, Iceland has never had any tradition in whaling. It’s only in more recent times (Hvalfur HF was founded only in 1948) that they have begun commercial whaling. Largely, this has been under the influence of Norwegian whalers. The original crew of Hvalfur HF was, in fact, trained by Norwegians and since then, there have been a few commercial whaling companies operating over that time, only to be shut down some years later.

In 1989, international pressure and boycotts prompted Iceland to shut whaling down for the next 14 years. Then, in 2020, whaling for minke whales ended, leaving Hvalfur HF the last remaining Icelandic company still to hunt and kill whales, more specifically, the more vulnerable species like fin whales. 

Now, whale meat is not on the menu for the vast majority of Icelanders, so the country actually exports most of its whale meat to Japan where this is – largely – consumed by tourists, thinking they are indulging in a centuries-old delicacy. 

All-in-all, the whaling history of Iceland is messy with long periods without whaling at all, as well as periods mired in controversy as outside countries urge Iceland to cease international trade of whale meat and work with the international community – through the International Whaling Commission (IWC) – to safeguard the species.

I was working with Sea Shepherd in 2022 to document violations in Iceland’s own laws on animal welfare. Prior top 2023, there was barely any control or surveillance measures to document the hunt and reduce the suffering of individual whales. Icelandic whaling ships do not tend to use automatic identification systems of AIS that is used for vessel tracking, which is a violation of international maritime law. 

We were out documenting every single individual whale that came through, no matter the weather and no matter the hour. The principle was simple: every single individual deserves to get their story told and their unjust murder shown.

During that time, we documented signs of numerous welfare violations. We saw whales with multiple harpoon wounds, suggesting it took a long time for the whales to die. 

The 2023 investigation confirmed that of 58 whales whose deaths were observed, 41% of them did not die immediately but took an average of 11 minutes 30 seconds to die. Two of these whales took over an hour to succumb to their wounds. And this wasn’t even the worst of what we observed – that would have been seeing developing whale fetuses being ripped out of pregnant mothers.

At the time, I was so focused on documenting what I could that I don’t recall feeling sympathy or sadness. That struck me later on. As a photographer you often have to put your feelings aside and focus on the task at hand. It was, however, when I started editing the pictures after that I realised the awful reality of what I had just photographed. It was like being hit by a freight train of emotions.

The only way to monitor them, then, was for us to physically scout for the ships to come back to shore at all hours of the day. And once they came in with the fin whales, we could get in position and document the entire butchering process.

The day I managed to capture this image, the two ships Hvalur 8 and Hvalur 9 were on rotation, meaning we were on watch all day long. I remember the smell was unbearable, depending on the wind direction. I assumed it was burned whale blubber and tissue. 

Everything that wasn’t meat was incinerated.  

Watching this animal’s murder took my mind for a wander as I thought about the journeys it would have made on its long migrations and the countless stories it could have told. But instead it was only to be left, a hollow husk of its former glory, at the hand of one man unwilling to align his principles with the greater good of the planet.

Humans have treated whales horribly throughout history and we owe it to them to now stop whaling for good. Industrial whaling is one of the largest culls of wild animals in the history of humankind, with three million whales killed in the 20th century alone. Of these, 874,068 were fin whales. Some species have bounced back, others have not. The audacity to still hunt these animals is incomprehensible to me. 

I want to make the world aware that commercial whaling is still happening. I want people to feel, I want to project this emotion towards continued public uproar. I want us all to write to the Icelandic government to demand a permanent halt on whaling.

It’s important this issue isn’t forgotten.

Frederik Brogaard was winner of the 2024 Ocean Photographer of the Year, Ocean Conservation (Impact) category.

You can read the full interview with Frederik right here.