Drifting among predators that are graceful, not dangerous. In the heart of the Norwegian fjords, high-end adventure meets pure intelligence. With a maximum of four participants, in the water and within yourself. Joshua Barton takes us to where wonder and the experience of nature become transformative.
Imagine this: you are bobbing in the ice-cold, crystal-clear water of the far north of Norway. Shadows glide through the depths beneath you, until suddenly a black dorsal fin pierces the surface. An orca glides silently past you, a moment so cinematic that it feels as if you are in the middle of a scene from Planet Earth you have landed, only without the iconic voice of David Attenborough. This is not a dream, but reality during an exclusive orca expedition to Skjervøy, organized by Avila Reizen and led by underwater photographer and expedition leader Joshua Barton. His work graced the pages of, among others, National Geographic, International Wildlife en The Washington PostMASTERS meets him during a visit by Joshua to Avila Reizen in Haarlem and wants to know everything from him about this special expedition.
Can you tell me something about your background and where your fascination with the ocean originated?
“I am an American based in India—years ago, I went there for a job in the corporate world. By the time I reshaped my life and work around leading whale expeditions and exploring new locations, I was so deeply rooted there that I decided to stay in India and build my life there. Even at a young age, I pushed the boundaries of my urges to explore; at eighteen, I trekked solo through wilderness areas such as Kalimantan and Sumatra. The coral reefs surrounding those locations were part of the attraction. At the time, wild nature seemed endless to an idealistic youngster. As I grew older, only the ocean retained that sense of infinity. The ocean has revealed hardly anything of its enormous secrets. I feel the urge to discover new secrets time and again, and above all, the appreciation that there is so much mystery to fathom during a lifetime.”
What did you do professionally before you became an expedition leader and underwater photographer, and how did that period shape you?
For most of my career, I ran a project management agency specializing in overseeing the entire design and construction process of hotels, office complexes, and residential projects in India. In my spare time, I organized small diving expeditions and pursued photography, even then fully dedicated to my method: always with thorough preliminary research and a willingness to take risks in the search for unique places and moments that you cannot simply find via a website or dive shop. My previous field taught me the importance of careful documentation, planning, communication, and precautions in logistics, particularly when it comes to safety. But my career also made it clear to me that running a business was not what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Money is important, absolutely, but not if it comes at the expense of happiness and fulfillment.”
When did you first encounter orcas underwater?
“My first encounter was very intense. Off the coast of Sri Lanka, in exceptionally murky water due to an algal bloom, I came across a group of orcas hunting a blue whale. I was on the boat at the time with only a Sri Lankan friend who didn’t dive, so I went into the water alone to film the scene. The water was so green that I could barely see the orcas. Moreover, they kept their distance as soon as I got close to the already severely mutilated blue whale. The realization that somewhere in that green darkness a group of animals was swimming around that had the power to mutilate the largest creature in the world like that gave me a physical sensation I had never felt before. I saw that same group again later in Sri Lanka, and of course I see orcas in Norway every year. What I see now is pure intelligence and beauty, and not fleeting shadowy harbingers of death, like on that one first day.”
Can you recall that moment second by second?
“That first time was truly the kind of heart-pounding-in-your-ears fear. I saw nothing but a mortally wounded animal, as large as five train cars, floating motionless in a dark sea. Its attackers emerged from the bottomless void and shot past like almost invisible flashes. All of that combined awakened a primal, instinctive fear within me. I was no longer a modern human with a mobile phone in hand and a plane ticket in my pocket; I was a small creature in a wild, ruthless world. The second encounter, the following year, was primarily visual, but felt at least as raw and intense. About 30 kilometers off the southern coast of Sri Lanka, I was diving with guests to see blue whales when a group of whale-hunting orcas surfaced in the distance (there are multiple ecotypes of orcas: some hunt mainly fish, others seals, and yet others whales). Because they are so rare in these waters and it involved a virtually unknown type, I advised my guests to stay on board as I entered the water. With a cupped hand, I slapped the water to create a cavitation boom—a kind of dull thud caused by air bubbles underwater—to attract their attention. Immediately, the entire group turned in my direction and flew purposefully toward me. I thought: 'Oh… what have I done?' I saw four orcas just below the surface, like shimmering silhouettes through the clear water, rushing straight towards me. My guests later said it looked as if torpedoes were shooting past the boat. Just before they reached me, three orcas suddenly broke away to the right. About 50 meters away, they began swimming in compact circles. That was meant as a distraction. Meanwhile, the fourth orca, a female, came within a meter of me, looked me straight in the eye, and scanned me from head to toe. To my own surprise, against all my instincts, I felt a deep calm and, above all, pure wonder. No fear, only awe. I looked her straight in the eyes. That image is etched in my memory forever. Only when I climbed back on board did the others tell me how incredibly intelligent they really were. The three orcas turned out not to be the distraction, zij That was it. For a fifth orca had, from the very first moment I entered the water and hit the surface, silently broken away from the group and swum in a wide circle along the other side of the boat. He ended up lying exactly behind me. And I didn't even notice, while my head was less than a meter away from the gaping maw of this six-meter-long animal.
But… isn’t that extremely dangerous?
It is a great misunderstanding that orcas are dangerous. They have never harmed a human in the wild. We simply are not on their menu. And malice and resentment are exclusively human traits; orcas do not know that. I have developed enormous respect for this species. During encounters, they have all the power and control. I am merely an insignificant detail in their world. And yet, they came to me, studied me, and left again. They have lived on this planet for millions of years according to a natural balance that never takes more than is necessary. Not a single animal was killed that was not fully utilized for subsistence. With that realization, I felt incredibly small, primitive, and even barbaric compared to them.
How certain is it that participants in the exclusive orca expeditions to northern Norway that you are organizing together with Avila Reizen will actually see orcas?
“100% certain! In many places around the world where whales are found, you *can* encounter them, but it might also *not* happen, depending on luck and timing. In Norway, the orcas come for the herring migrating to specific fjords to feed, and stay there all winter to eat that herring. So, as long as the herring moves into the fjord and the orcas follow, the chances of seeing them throughout the entire season are absolute, all winter long. Every year, I receive reports about the moment the herring arrives, when the first 'orca scouts' arrive to inspect the herring, and when the full orca pods make their appearance. If the herring turns out to be migrating to a new fjord in a particular season (they change locations every 7 to 15 years), we simply move our base to that new area.”
You seek out not only killer whales, but also biting cold… How do you arm yourself against that?
We are extremely careful: with drysuits, a heated boat to drink coffee between dives, and a smart strategy to maintain body temperature. Should your drysuit unexpectedly tear, you must get out of the water and put on dry clothes on the boat. But it is not like you will immediately become hypothermic. Some experienced participants even wear a wetsuit.
What is the biggest risk you can run?
Common sense is the most important requirement; the lack of it the greatest risk.
Which safety measures are non-negotiable for you?
“First: one boat, one captain. Only the captain determines when it is safe to enter the water and when it is safe to return on board. I listen to him before giving instructions; the guests then listen to me. Second: I check that everyone’s drysuit is properly zipped up before we enter the water. Third: you must give the OK sign when you enter the water and every time I make the same sign to you. Finally, and most importantly: do not make jokes about safety or danger.”
What must participants be able to handle physically and mentally to experience this adventure in a responsible manner?
“They need to be fit enough to help transport groceries and your luggage to our house. We use sleds for this, but believe me: it’s quite a workout! Additionally, they must be able to climb the ladder on the jetty to get on and off the boat, step onto and off the boat’s aft platform, and pull themselves up via the stern edge when climbing aboard. Mentally, the first jump can be nerve-wracking, but as soon as someone is in the water and realizes that this dream is actually happening, the excitement takes over from that moment on. I have never experienced anyone being too scared or intimidated to do it.”
Have you ever had to cancel an expedition day due to circumstances?
Every season, there are one or two days that we cancel due to the weather. That is why every trip has six days at sea.
Is there also a program for on land?
We are in a remote, pristine area. You can hike through perfect wilderness, right up to a glacier. We dive to collect mussels for dinner. But apart from that incredibly impressive nature, there isn't much there. But after expeditions, you don't have the time or energy left for even more activities anyway.
Can you describe what the evenings during the expedition look like?
We have a maximum of four participants. I cook, after which we eat together and have wonderful conversations. Most are already in bed around 20 p.m. The special thing about such small groups is how quickly bonds form. The WhatsApp groups with each team remain active long after the trips: people become friends, seek each other out, and book another diving expedition later – with the same diving friends, but in a new setting.
What did you discover about yourself as a guide by spending eight days in extreme nature with groups?
“Guiding isn’t for everyone; it is intense – I am ‘on’ 24 hours a day. Every guest arrives with expectations and lifelong dreams; even though I have been leading this journey for years, I must keep realizing that this is their first experience. My goal is to make it the most beautiful experience of their lives. I have discovered that I can do this because I have already achieved it, and because I derive immense satisfaction from making people happy.”
What is the most meaningful compliment you have received from a participant?
“I once took a guest with cancer on a whale expedition. She didn't know if the treatment that would start after returning would be successful. She said: 'Whatever happens, I have now fulfilled the dream of my life and can be at peace with everything that comes next.' That touched me deeply.”
What is your most recent memorable anecdote?
“During my most recent trip to Norway, I had guests who were nervous about swimming with orcas. And about entering the ice-cold Arctic water at all. Although I always do a practice dive with my guests, this time I decided to let them get used to the experience as gently as possible. I sailed our boat to a quiet bay on a fjord, where the water was calm and not a single orca was in sight. In a dead silent, almost sacred-looking piece of nature – the water as smooth as a pond – I let them enter the water so they could acclimatize and feel at ease, both physically and mentally. Then, suddenly, the unmistakable sound of an orca exhaling broke through the silence. Out of nowhere, a large group of orcas appeared, swimming right past my newcomers. They were too deeply impressed to be afraid, while more than twenty orcas glided past them on the surface and underwater, curious and observant. It could not have been a more perfect encounter. And it was a beautiful illustration of the fact that there is nothing to fear, only to admire.”
What impact have the expeditions had on your view of ocean protection?
A very significant impact! First of all, we can pass on a great deal of knowledge and insight to our guests. In addition, we are continuing the network around themes, initiatives, and issues. I am currently working on a program in which a portion of the participant contributions is being used to support an 'orca liberation initiative,' aimed at releasing orcas from captivity.
How did the collaboration with Avila Reizen come about, and what were you looking for in each other?
We were introduced to each other by a mutual acquaintance. I was looking for a partner on the continent to reach a largely untapped market; I think Avila Reizen was looking to add adventurous, unique, and wildlife-focused trips to the exclusive travel segment.
The expedition you are organizing runs from November 1 to 8, 2026. How likely do you think it is that participants will see the Northern Lights in addition to orcas?
During that time of year, we see the Northern Lights very regularly, so the chances are very high. But… the chance of an encounter with orcas is even greater!