Gulf of St. Lawrence

The alarm clock jolts me awake at 5am. Thankfully, the weather looks good and within a half hour the pilots phone to say that the helicopters are fuelled up and ready to go. Today will be the last day to film and we intend to make every minute count despite the anticipated harrassment from the sealers. As we take off from the Charlottetown airport I can see the tension on everyone's face at the thought of facing off with the sealers again. So far no one has been hurt, but the fact that the Coast Guard officials and RCMP are turning a blind eye to the on-ice assaults will only encourage more harrassment of observers.

After a half hour of flying we reach the first boats and land next to the Manon Yvon, a 65 foot vessel based in the Magdalen Islands. Last year, myself and a British film crew had our ice pan rammed by this particular boat, resulting in a mad scramble to save ouselves from going into the icy water. Luckily, the ice is too thick this year for them to try ramming us.

As we start filming, DFO enforcement officials arrive by helicopter. We wait by a group of 6 seals and inevitably a sealer approaches and clubs all 6 animals in quick succesion without doing a skull palpitation to ensure that they are dead, a violation of the Marine Mammal Regulations. We immediately call over the DFO enforcement officials who are chatting to another sealer, and request that they lay charges against the sealer in question. We explain that we have video of the sealer violating the regulations, but the DFO official states that is not interested in looking at our evidence and that he is not going to even caution the sealer, let alone charge him. We are shocked. The DFO claims that this hunt will be the most closely monitored in decades, but this particular enforcement officer has essentially indicated that he will not charge a sealer who has broken the law right in front of his very eyes. I have always known that the DFO ardently promotes the hunt, but flatly refusing to take action on such a clear-cut violation is ludicrous as well as being fraudulent.

By now the sealers have moved off and we reposition to film them. As soon as we land and approach several seals, all eight sealers charge us, shouting obscenities. They drive us back to the edge of the ice pan. One sealer cocks his fist and repeatedly threatens one of our female ice guides that he isn't afraid to hit a woman. I keep the camera rolling despite a bloodied sealer trying to grab it from me. After a few minutes the sealers go back to clubbing seals and I notice that my camera and hand are covered in seal blood from the sealer's attempts to wrestle it away from me. I try to wash it off in the frigid water, but can't get rid of the smell of blood. The coast guard arrives in their helicopter and an RCMP officer half-heartedly takes a statement from us regarding the scuffle. He refuses to arrest any of the sealers and can't say whether charges will be laid. If nothing else, at least they are consistent.

We fly back to Charlottetown to refuel and eat lunch and then head back to the killing fields. We land next to the Grand Makasti, a large steel-hulled boat from the Gaspe. Believe it or not, they have their own helicopter that they use to sling pelts from the hunters to the boat. Our pilot estimates that the helicopter is worth $1.5 milion and the boat $2 million. So much for the myth of the poor, struggling sealer. The man who owns this boat must be a millionaire.

We begin filming 2 sealers, and like clockwork, they charge us. This despite the fact that we have a CBC cameraman with us. We back up and I get shoved into knee deep water as the sealers force us into a slushy section of ice on the edge of the pan. We move away from the sealers and film the helicopter from the Grand Makasti as he flys to and fro with large piles of pelts dripping blood hanging from a rope.

By now it is approaching 5pm and we have time for one more filming session. We shift position and set down near a boat surrounded by a lake of blood where the sealers are skinning the dead. We set up our cameras close to one of the most serenely beautiful spots I have yet to see. The sun is starting to set and washes the ice with a golden hue. All around us are silvery seals glowing in the dying sunlight, some of them lying together, others splashing around in a lead of aquamarine water. A few feet down in the water we can see the blue white formations of ice that look like clouds in the sky. The seals watch us with their big, trusting eyes and make their soft little harp seal sounds. This scene of tranquil beauty overtakes us and all conversation stops as we stare in awe. Suddenly, from across the ice comes the sound of the sealers approaching. But this time they stop and watch us from a distance. It appears that they are camera shy and have chosen to wait us out, knowing that we will have to leave within minutes if we are to get back to the airport safely. We have already heard that the hunt will end at sundown today, and so we wait, hoping that the sealers will get back into their boat and leave, so that at least we can save this small group of seals from the fate of so many of their species. But the sealers stay, and with our pilot signalling that we must leave immediately, we are forced to make the awful decision to walk away. We lift off and watch helplessly from the air as the sealers bludgeon every seal pup to death. Heaven becomes hell, so that some person can flaunt their wealth by wearing a sealskin coat. It is the stark contrasts like these that stay with me, and drive me on to end this despicable hunt for babies.