Behind the Shot: Photographing Killer Whales in Baja California

What started as a mako shark mission quickly turned into one of the most powerful and emotional wildlife encounters of my life.

The day began as a typical shark dive day. We were on a quest to photograph mako sharks — an elusive species I had been chasing for years — when we got an unexpected report. A local fisherman had spotted a pod of orcas nearby. 

Our trip leader, Mathias, didn’t hesitate. “We’re going to check it out,” he said with a big grin on his face. We shifted course, adrenaline already building, and about 30 minutes later, we found the pod. The scene was chaotic — at least a dozen boats were already there, circling the orcas at a distance.

Orcas swimming past at close range.

Part of the pod swam by just an arm’s length away — a magical, surreal moment I’ll never forget.

Orcas In Baja

According to local experts, it appeared that two different pods had come together. These weren’t just transient orcas passing through. 

This was likely a coordinated hunting event—an opportunity to teach younger orcas how to take down large prey like whale calves. What fascinated me the most was learning that not every orca pod hunts whales. Each pod develops its own cultural behaviors and hunting traditions passed down from generation to generation. 

This wasn’t just instinct — it was learned behavior, a family legacy of hunting passed along like stories around a campfire.

In Baja, local experts have documented orcas hunting a variety of species: whale sharks, sunfish, even adult humpbacks. Interestingly, they've never seen them hunt sea lions here, which adds another layer to how specific and unique each pod's behavior can be.

What The Orcas Were Actually Doing

Back to the unfolding drama: we watched as the orcas began “harassing” every whale that crossed their path. At first, it looked like playful behavior or maybe training exercises for the young. 

They would bite at the flukes of whales and then move on, seemingly testing techniques and coordination. But soon, the tone shifted. A mother humpback whale with her calf became their target.

Everything escalated rapidly. The pod moved with surgical precision. They expertly separated the calf from its mother, surrounding it and forcing it underwater. Within minutes, it was over. 

The calf had been drowned and torn apart.

Witnessing the mother search desperately for her calf afterward was devastating. I’ve seen many intense moments in the wild, but nothing compared to this. It was heartbreaking — and yet, undeniably awe-inspiring. This was nature at its most raw and unsparing.

The True Apex Predator

Until that day, I always thought of sharks as the apex predators of the ocean. But seeing orcas in action changed that. 

These animals operate on another level. Their strength, intelligence, teamwork, and strategy place them firmly at the top of the food chain. 

No question — they are the ultimate apex predators.

Three orcas swimming, one making clicking sounds.

Three orcas swim past, the closest one clicking to communicate as they move in sync.

Finding Opportunity In The Chaos

As the hunt concluded, many of the boats began to leave. For us, that was a glimmer of opportunity. Fewer boats meant less danger and maybe, just maybe, a chance to get in the water. 

It’s important to note that being in the water with whales in Mexico is illegal, and for good reason — it can be incredibly dangerous, especially when many captains are not trained wildlife professionals. 

We even saw people from other boats already in the water, despite the risks. It was a tense scene.

About 20 minutes after the hunt, Mathias gave us the green light. The energy on our boat shifted in an instant. We quickly suited up and made our way to the side of the boat. As someone who lives for ocean wildlife encounters, my heart was racing. 

Andres, our captain, skillfully maneuvered the boat to position us in front of the pod's projected path. This is the kind of encounter where success depends entirely on the animals. You jump in, hoping they’ll swim by. If they don’t, you get back in the boat, reposition, and try again. And again.

Mother orca swimming closely above her calf.

A mother orca shelters her calf beneath her body as they glide through beams of light. A quiet, intimate moment.

The Complexities Of Photographing Orcas

Photographing orcas is physically demanding, to say the least.

You have to jump in fast, swim hard, and be ready in an instant. Long fins are a must. The first jump yielded nothing — we didn’t even see the pod. But each attempt afterward brought us closer. Eventually, I found myself in the water with orcas passing beneath me. The experience was dreamlike.

Some jumps brought the pod within touching distance. I watched mothers sheltering their young, guiding them with gentle nudges. 

One moment is forever etched in my memory: the matriarch of the pod swam directly toward me, her gaze fixed. 

She came close, slowed down, and seemed to assess whether I posed a threat to her family. I froze, barely breathing. It was like staring into the eyes of something ancient and wise. In that split second, we understood each other. I meant no harm, and she allowed me into their world — if only for a brief moment.

It felt like I had been dropped into a live episode of Blue Planet. All we were missing was David Attenborough’s voice narrating in the background. And the most surreal part? This was just a few hours' flight from our home in Austin, Texas. I couldn’t believe it had taken us so long to come here.

Now, the question I get asked most: Was it safe?

After all, we had just watched these orcas take down a one-ton whale calf. And then we jumped into the water with them. 

But I never once felt unsafe. 

The truth is, orcas aren’t dangerous to humans — not in the wild. What makes them so effective as predators is also what makes them so remarkable: their intelligence.
They’ve won the evolutionary lottery.

They use echolocation to see in complete darkness, communicate through complex vocalizations, and pass cultural knowledge across generations. They know exactly what they’re doing. 

They can distinguish humans from their prey without any confusion. Despite their power, orcas have never been known to attack humans in the wild.

That doesn’t mean the experience wasn’t intense. My body was running on pure adrenaline the whole time. But fear? No. There was only wonder.

Orca calf swimming alongside its mother, black and white.

A calf presses close to its mother as they descend into deeper water.

Photography Tips

It’s all about being in the right place at the right time…

For photographers hoping to capture moments like this, here’s my advice: bring a bunch of luck and pack your widest lens, ideally something between 14–35mm, and set your camera before you jump in. You won’t have the time — or mental bandwidth — to adjust settings in the water. Fast shutter, high ISO if needed, and don’t forget to breathe. You may only get one shot.

And if you’re lucky, that one shot might just be the image of a lifetime.

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A Silent Plea: Encounter with an Entangled Whale