It's difficult to describe the incredible vastness and the sheer immensity of the great Southern Ocean. My crew and I have been chasing the seven ships of the eco-imperialistic Japanese whaling fleet for thousands of miles, threading our way through a maze of icebergs, ranging from staggering tabletop behemoths hundreds of feet high and miles across to a multitude of ice sculptures of every imaginable shape and size. This is one of the most profoundly beautiful places on the planet - wild, remote, harsh, rugged, bitingly cold and vast.

Every year, for four years, I have sailed these waters in pursuit of Japanese whalers, and I never tire of the fascination of this world, so far removed from the everyday life of the average person.

I adore this place. I revere the wildness, the remoteness, and I especially love its unique citizenry. The penguins - the sullen Emperors, the haughty Kings, the comical Adelies, and freaky Rockhoppers. The whales - the acrobatic humpbacks, majestic blues and life-loving pikes. Their haunting songs echo off the deep crystal bottoms of icebergs in an orchestrated symphony that provides the sub-maritime realm of the Southern Oceans with an never-ending cacophony for the unfolding drama of life and death in the eco-systems at the bottom of this wondrous planet.

To experience true humility is to experience a voyage through this great ocean. Life below the latitude of 60 degrees south is perceived in its rawest, most primal form - and with that comes appreciation of just how fragile and utterly beautiful life really is.

We move forward each day, closing the gap on our foe, the whale poachers from Japan, as we attempt to turn the attention of the world above us to the plight of the magnificent whales who die in shameful, ignoble agony in these remote waters. Blunt-headed harpoons thrust explosives deep into the whales, shredding their internal organs as they thrash and die in pain, their blood staining the blue of the sea with a sickly scarlet and pinkish stain, until their eyes close under the shroud of the sea forever.

The silence and the ecological harmony of this isolated sea is shattered daily, disrupted by acts of gross violence and the wilful infliction of suffering. It is a horrific blasphemy that compels us to intervene.

There is only one reward to be had on this odyssey of compassion, and that is the abolition of this cowardly and barbarous assault on the great whales. We will not rest, nor will we ever surrender to the arrogance of the whalers. Only our own death will deter our annual trek across these stormy south polar seas in our quest to restore peace between cetacean and hominid in these savage waters.

The Guardian