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Life on the ice

Former Yellowknifer reaches the pinnacle of photographic success: a National Geographic photospread

Lisa Scott
Northern News Services

Whitehorse (July 14/03) - In the dark, cold underwater depths is where Paul Nicklen does his best work.

That is where he captured the stunning images of Atlantic Salmon that grace 24 pages of this month's National Geographic magazine.

The former Yellowknife photographer has hit the kind of success that most people in his field only dream of: valuable exposure in an international magazine with a 150 million readership.

His parents brought him to a small Inuit community on Baffin Island when he was three-years-old. That was where he learned the ways of the land and its wildlife. But he didn't pick up a camera until his teen years and didn't fall in love with it until university.

At the University of Victoria, Paul studied marine biology to explore his fervour for wildlife. He also started doing underwater photography as part of a scuba class.

Once he returned to the North in 1981, he settled into a wildlife biologist job with Renewable Resources (now the Department of Resources, Wildlife and Economic Development) in Yellowknife.

It was when he was studying lynx and polar bears for the government that he realized he was a conflicted biologist -- he would prefer to be using his camera.

Paul thought he could "better serve nature and the environment by trying to bridge the gap between science and the public."

So in 1994, he quit his job and embarked on an eight-year journey, paying his own way to capture images and build a reputation as a wildlife photographer.

Family support

Paul credits his wife Lyn as the key to his success.

"I was trying to chase this dream and my wife just coped with it."

When he was gone eight months of the year living on the sea ice shooting polar bears, she was home in Whitehorse, sacrificing everything for him.

He still comes home to see his family in Yellowknife. His father, Dave Nicklen, the director of public safety and development for the city, can't be more pleased for his son.

He remembers how much Paul was intrigued by wildlife on hunting trips to Baffin Island as a child.

Dave didn't have the choice to follow his love of farming when he was young, settling into a stable job in order to support his family. So when Paul sat down with him to say he was going to go and do what he loved to do, his father understood his motivation.

When Dave sits in his office, he stares up at a photo of a whale's tail that was a gift from Paul. He tries to put into words how pleased he is that his son had the choice to follow his dreams.

The big break

Paul knew that he could go where other photographers couldn't. He knew the Inuit and the land and could shoot difficult images like no one else. He says "I like to work in remote, hard places."

He accompanied polar bear biologist Mitch Taylor to the high Arctic on his first trip since quitting his Yellowknife job. After that, Taylor strived to include the young photographer on helicopter explorations so that he could get photos.

Paul remembers sending an adoring letter to Flip Nicklin from National Geographic at age 17, but received no response. Years later, in Churchill, he met up with him on a polar bear expedition. The famous photographer took Paul under his wing and became his mentor.

It all took off from there, as Nicklin and photographer Joel Sartori pushed him to accompany them on expeditions until he was finally granted a paid assignment -- shooting Atlantic salmon.

Getting that first job was almost impossible, according to Paul. He had never even seen one of the dwindling salmon and said "it was sheer terror for four months, because I knew nothing (about salmon)."

He visited five countries, carried 1,000 pounds of equipment and shot 1,000 rolls of film to produce the 24-page photospread for National Geographic. The magazine expanded Paul's story because they liked it so much.

He admits to over-researching his first project, devoting 18 weeks to the underwater shots when he was only given nine weeks of paid work. Photography engulfs you, Paul said, "you get so caught up in the picture that nothing else matters."

It was worth it though, because he has his foot in the door at the magazine, having done three more stories since the assignment for the July issue.

The road to the top

While he loves photography as a career, Paul claims you are only as good as your last shot. You have to be the best in the world at what you do, and his route is "hard, cold, underwater, miserable stuff."

He travelled to National Geographic headquarters in Washington, D.C. three times on his own dime before the magazine would even talk to him.

In the years leading up to his first big break, Paul said "there were lean times, where the phone never rings." During this time, he wondered if he was ever going to make it.

Since 1994, he's been published in hundreds of magazines around the world and enjoys a reputation as a cutting edge underwater photographer. For him, National Geographic connotes the pinnacle of success.

Paul isn't resting on his laurels though. He is constantly looking for the next shot and hints that his next photospread will feature the North. He loves his homeland and has a vast connection to the people, the land and the culture. He says "my heart is in the North."

As the July issue of National Geographic circulates the North, Paul will be the lecturing expert on the five-star Le Levant cruise ship as they tour Canada's Arctic.

Meanwhile, he is taking refuge in quiet Whitehorse with wife Lyn and their dog Wolf, reflecting on the success of chasing a dream.