Our small plane dropped through the cloud to reveal a vast expanse of sea ice, the low sun picking out the distant, snow-covered peaks of Svalbard. It was March 2016, and, along with series producer Alistair Fothergill, I was about to commence a four-week shoot for the Netflix series Our Planet.
Peering out the window, I hoped to catch a glimpse of the animal we were here to film - the polar bear. I’ve filmed polar bears before, but this shoot was going to be different.
I had designed rig which allowed me to attach a gyrostabilised camera to the front of an all-terrain vehicle (ATV), which we’d then drive out onto the sea ice to film these incredible predators hunting seals.
It’s something that’s never been attempted before. And a few weeks later, we would learn why it would never be attempted again.
The usual way to film polar bears is to head onto the ice on a snowmobile, towing your camera and tripod on a sled. When you locate a bear, you then jump off the vehicle, fumble around with freezing hands to assemble the camera, and hope the bear is still within filming distance when you’re ready to record.
If it’s not, you simply pack everything away - and rinse and repeat. Should the bear approach, you do the packing-away part very quickly and get out of there.
The ATV rig was designed not only to be faster, but also safer than a snowmobile. It meant we could follow and film the bears simultaneously, without having to constantly stop and start over. The ATV resembles a small jeep with tracks instead of wheels, four doors and a roof, it also meant myself, Alastair and guide Einar Eliassen could stay nice and warm in the cab, drinking tea and eating giant Wotsits (a gift from me to Einer), and basically having a lovely time.
Filming got underway, and within a few days we were capturing images of polar bears that had never been captured before. This new approach was delivering everything I’d hoped, and more.
We found a female with a cub (whom we named Blinky as he blinked so much!) and filmed an extraordinary scene of them hunting a seal resting own the sea ice by its hole. The cub mimicked its mum and they both played grandmas footsteps with the seal. Every time it looked away they snuck forwards a few steps. Immediately pausing when it looked around. It was a mesmerizing moment.
- Watch terrifying, heart-stopping tense footage of a fierce polar bear mother defending her vulnerable cubs against a dangerous, deadly aggressor
- David Attenborough narrates astounding BBC footage of a ferocious polar bear launching itself at a trembling terrified seal
Nonetheless, the fact that we were essentially driving on ice floating on the Arctic Ocean was always at the back of our minds. Particularly as, with each passing day, the temperature was rising and the ice was getting thinner.
A snowmobile is relatively light and has a large footprint. It can travel on ice you would fall through on foot because it spreads the load. An ATV is heavier and, unlike a snowmobile, it has a roof. Should you break through the ice, swimming away Wim Hoff style is not an option.
Safety was, therefore, a primary concern. We each had a grab-bag of dry clothes and survival equipment on the roof, and we regularly drilled through the ice to check it was thick enough to carry the weight of the ATV. These safety measures served us well - until the final day of the shoot.
We’d been following a large male all morning. He was making his way towards the edge of the sea ice, so we stopped, aware that the ice would be getting thinner. I got out to drill the ice. We had 20cm. All good.
I got back in the vehicle to discuss whether to leave the bear or not, when we heard a sudden and very loud CRACK. Before we could fully comprehend what was happening, the front of the ATV started to drop through the ice. Instinctively, I slammed down on my door-release button, but the door was jammed shut. It had already gone below the ice.
The ATV then paused momentarily from sinking. The GSS had caught on the ice at the front, but it was not going to hold.
“Everyone out, NOW!” I yelled.
Because the vehicle was tipped forwards, Alastair, who was in the back seat, was able to quickly get out the rear door. But Einar had the same problem as me - his door was already below the ice and stuck fast.
There was no other option than to literally tear our way out. Using all my strength, I managed to bend my door in half, force it open, and scramble out. Einar then clambered over, and I hauled him out just before the vehicle upended violently and disappeared into the freezing water.
We were left staring into an ATV-sized hole with no safety equipment, no spare clothes and a large male polar bear for company.
The bear glanced back but with what looked like a smirk turned on his heel and wandered off.
Luckily, Einar had his mobile phone in his pocket. When he came to his senses, he called for help. My phone, meanwhile, was now making its way to the bottom of the Arctic.
As we awaited rescue, we stared at the hole in the ice, taking in the surreal scene as Einar’s Giant Wotsits bobbed to the surface one by one. My take home was that I can’t die. Not sure I’ve learned my lesson yet!
