When Margot Sib photographs the icy immensities of the Far North and Antarctica, she's not just looking to capture spectacular landscapes. Her work is first and foremost a testimony to the transformation of these territories; an appeal, which we won't tire of repeating, to become aware of their fragility in the face of global warming. Her images reveal the depths of a changing world. For the photojournalist and nature guide, each shot becomes a mission: to raise awareness of the need to preserve these extreme areas. In this final instalment of our report, Margot Sib shares her artistic approach and photographic process, while highlighting the environmental issues that guide her work through her polar expeditions aboard Ponant boats.
How do you capture the moment in an environment as unpredictable as the Far North or Antarctica?
Michel Gunther, the photographer I worked with, taught me everything technically. He was a very good coach, and he always gave me a rule that I tried to apply: know your subject before photographing it. He used to say to me: '' I forbid you to photograph an area or an animal if you don't know it ''. Studying how they communicate, how they function, how they reproduce, how they live, was important to him. This is now my guiding principle for animals too.
When it comes to landscapes, I'm more of an instinctive photographer. I look at what's going on in my camera, zoom in, zoom out, test, search. Sometimes it's a bit more complex, because when you're on a semi-rigid, you're not dependent on your own movement. I'm trying to work more and more as if I were in film, as if I were only entitled to one image. So I think a lot more about what I'm going to do. Sometimes I just want to take my eye off the lens to experience rare, intense moments.
On the water, when you come across humpback whales in the wild, you take a photo of them at first, because that's your first reflex and you need to have an image of that. And then, if they stay a while, if they're curious, if they seem to be enjoying the moment, I put the camera down to soak up the moment. It has to be said that having the camera, putting your eye in the eyepiece, is a very, very good filter for not getting caught up in empathy or being overwhelmed by positive or negative emotions; war reporters will tell you.
When you photograph ice and icebergs, do you see them as works of art in perpetual motion?
Completely, and the only way to do that is by boat... With the semi-rigid, you gradually get closer to the iceberg and you see that there's potential. First I use the wide-angle lens, then the telephoto. That's when I get inside the iceberg. I've photographed some that were as much in the sun as in the shade, and the colors stood out; shades of blue, it was sumptuous! It almost seems unrealistic.
With the sun, the ice can also ooze out, giving the impression that you're in a desert of ice. Like a dune rising up in front of you.
Do you know the protocols put in place by the Ponant company to minimize the environmental impact of its explorations?
Ponant is a yachting cruiser, but with small boats of around 200 passengers.
We have the Green Ship label. For example, we use water once, then recycle it and reuse it to clean the decks or the laundry before it becomes unusable. We sort everything. I've never done as much sorting as on this boat. There's a garbage can for every type of waste: food, cardboard, glass, paper. The instructions are very strict. I think it's really good.
Every year, we also have to go through a compulsory questionnaire to make sure we know the regulations. It's a process that guarantees not only our compliance, but also our ability to evolve in these sensitive environments while respecting the established rules. Interacting with wildlife, particularly the polar bear, is one of the most memorable moments of an Arctic expedition. Its piercing, unwavering gaze and speed of movement make it a formidable predator.
Yet encounters with these animals remain a privilege that must be approached with caution. A profound respect for their natural environment, guided by strict rules imposed by regulatory associations such as AECO in the Arctic or IAATO in the Antarctic, helps to avoid risks while allowing observation of these majestic predators in their habitat.
Safety rules are also rigorously applied at sea, especially when travelling in RIBs. Keeping a safe distance from the animals guarantees serene encounters. Generally speaking, observing large marine and terrestrial predators brings with it an incomparable sense of humility and smallness. Whether it's orcas or fish eagles, these encounters allow us to capture the majesty of the wilderness not as a frozen scene in an enclosure, but as a living, evolving spectacle. In this sense, photos of Arctic animals and landscapes take on a dimension that, for me, goes far beyond mere representation to become art.
Sharing these moments of communion with nature, whether with passengers, crew or on my return, reinforces my awareness of the importance of protecting these fragile territories and encouraging an ethical and thoughtful approach to sailing in the polar latitudes.
And how do you feel about the paradox between the need to showcase these wonders by boat in order to better protect them, and the risk of invasive nautical tourism?
It's complicated. We make passengers discover exceptional things. Antarctica, for example, is often the trip of a lifetime. People only go there once and come away so amazed. Naturalist guides play a key role in educating passengers about fauna, flora and the environment. They give lectures on a wide range of subjects, including waste and microplastics...
This is not the case on all cruise ships, and even less so on all voyages. I think this is very positive, because it raises awareness of environmental issues among a financially well-off population. And this population can have a real impact later on. If we succeed in raising their awareness and making them understand the importance of preserving the environment, they are the ones who will then be able to finance associations fighting against plastic, overfishing...
We also do a lot to raise awareness of the fact that corals should not be touched. Boats approach reefs slowly. Passengers are not allowed to go where they want, when they want. So, if at the end of their stay our passengers disembark with more knowledge and potentially a little seed germinates in their heads to say: " What if I donated to an association to help protect the environment? "It's a win-win situation for us! After talking to many passengers, that's how I feel.
If you were invited on a sailboat without your camera, would you go?
If it's somewhere I don't know, I won't be able to. If it's somewhere remote, especially by boat, I know it'll be harder to take photos. Still, I couldn't leave without my camera. I never leave without my binoculars or my camera! I was recently told that my camera is, in the end, like an extension of my body and my heart. That perfectly sums up my relationship with photography. I always try to show the beauty of what I see, and that comes from the heart. I don't want to have any regrets. So I'd rather get on board with my camera and not take a photo, than risk not seeing that image I'd like to have immortalized.
Margot Sib's testimony reminds us that boats, as gateways to isolated territories, are the only way to capture images of rare intensity. It's in this world of rigor and immensity that the onboard photojournalist has immortalized the raw beauty of untouched lands. In this context, the sea becomes a fundamental link between the artist and nature, an essential vector for revealing to the world the splendor of these often fragile wild territories.
