Sensing danger, one baby seal looked up. As he nervously glanced across the ice, a bullet smashed into his face. He fell back, bleeding. The other seal looked toward him worriedly, and, as she did, another bullet blasted across the ice and hit her in the face. The blood began to pour from her, but she slowly pulled her head up and began to crawl, dragging herself forward. In agony, she slowly moved in a complete circle, blood trailing behind her. From the air, we could see her sliding through her own blood as she cried.

Finally, the sealing boat arrived, and she was shot again. As she collapsed, the first seal rolled over—he too had been alive and suffering all this time. A sealer ran onto the ice, smashing his club into both their heads. Without checking to see if the seals were unconscious, he hooked both of them in their faces, pulling them onto the boat. As we flew over in the helicopter, we could see that one seal was still moving. Unconcerned, the sealers sliced the pups open, one after the other—a grisly and painful death, and just more evidence of why this slaughter must be stopped.

For much of the year, we see opportunistic Canadian politicians organizing increasingly tasteless events to promote the sealing industry and seal-fur markets (along with their own careers). But those politicians are ironically silent now. As the baby seals are brutalized on the ice floes, these politicians seem entirely at a loss for words.

I don't blame them. What words could defend what we have filmed in the past three days? What propaganda could ever counter the cries of a wounded baby seal choking on her own blood? What excuses could erase the image of a baby seal whose face has been torn apart by a bullet as she screams in agony?

They have no words. They have no excuses. Because there are none.

Up here in a helicopter, observing Canada's commercial seal hunt, you witness each baby seal subjected to a slow and torturous death. For the sealing industry, the deaths of these seals are just statistics—a percentage of the quota filled, another skin to sell.

But imagine being that pup.

The bullet tears into you. You are only three weeks old, and you don't understand what has happened—why you are in so much pain. You try to crawl desperately, to escape the agony. You see another pup close to you on the ice, and you turn toward her, only to see a bullet rip through her.

Your blood spills out behind you as you drag yourself toward the only safety around—the water. But you don't yet know how to swim, and you stare helplessly into it. Another bullet slams into you, and you scream. And then you hear the roar of the boat engine, the shouts of the sealers. You have never seen a human before, but somehow you know they mean to hurt you. You are far too young to be able to defend yourself, but, pathetically, you try to make a stand, rearing your head back as the sealer approaches. It is all you can do.

But you are not dead. In fact, you're still conscious. The sealer takes a metal hook and stabs it through your jaw, then drags you along. You are in so much pain, and you clench your tail, but no one takes notice. Instead, still another torture awaits, as the sealers awkwardly impale you on a second hook, this time through the flipper.

Together, two men attempt to hoist your body on board, the steel hooks slicing through your body. You are slammed onto the deck of the boat. But you are still not dead.

We must sound the cries of every wounded, brutalized baby seal killed out here, merging them into a single shout loud enough to be heard in the farthest corners of our planet: "End. It. Now.”

Help us expose the suffering of these baby seals to the world. Tell everyone. Help us end it now.

Eyes Wide Open

There is so much blood. It saturates the ice, slicks across the water, covers the decks of the boats and the sealers. There is death in all directions.

Today we saw so many examples of it. A seal was shot across the back: the bullet created a huge bloody wound, but the seal was still conscious. Another bullet slammed across the ice, and another. Four shots later, and the seal pup was still conscious, bloody and in pain. For several minutes we filmed from our helicopter, waiting for the sealers to come. They left him to suffer for what seemed like an eternity before finally arriving to club the seal. Without bothering to find out if the seal was unconscious, the sealer took a knife and sliced the pup open from end to end. Another seal looked up just as a club smashed into her skull. Still another began to thrash about in a pile of dead bodies on the boat. It took several minutes for a sealer to notice and halfheartedly club her.

Even if we had not been so far away, we are prevented by Canadian law from helping these suffering creatures. All we are permitted to do is watch and document every atrocity.

You might think that after seeing countless seals brutalized at the commercial seal hunt, this would all get easier. But, it doesn't.

When you watch this kind of casual violence day after day, year after year, it has a cumulative effect. For some people, the anger turns to despair. They burn out, unable to continue the fight.

For me, it is different. Each death I see is as hard to witness as the first one I saw twelve years ago. But the anger I feel is like a fuel: It builds and builds, giving me the strength to wage our campaign throughout the year to shut this industry down forever.

This year, I will fight harder than ever for these seals. I will not stop until the slaughter is stopped. We are battling a ruthless industry and political opportunists in my government who care nothing for truth, decency, or basic compassion.

The ice floes off Canada's east coast are a place of death right now. But just as the seals are dying, so too is the sealing industry. Every club the sealers bring down on a stricken baby seal, every bullet that tears into a defenseless pup—each one is a deathblow to the future of the slaughter.

Please join me in being a witness. Together, we'll make the sights and sounds of clubs and rifle blasts echo around the world—until the seals are finally safe.

As we flew in yesterday over the mountains, my heart sank. Each year I come here it is the same—the stunning beauty of this place contrasts so sharply with the bloody violence we are about to see. We are preparing to bear witness to the word's largest and most atrocious slaughter of marine mammals, and the thought is devastating.

This year will be harder to witness than most.

2010 has seen the lowest sea ice formation on record off of Canada's east coast, a disaster for the ice-breeding seals who are the target of the commercial seal hunt. In some key seal birthing areas, virtually no ice formed. In others, the ice that did form melted before the pups were able to survive in open water.

There have been reports of starving seal pups on beaches throughout Canada's Atlantic Provinces, tragic victims of their mothers' desperate attempts to give birth on land. Today we surveyed the rocky beaches of the west coast of Newfoundland and found many dead whitecoats. This heartbreaking scene was hard enough to bear, but even harder knowing the 2010 commercial seal slaughter will proceed.

Unmoved by the mass seal pup mortalities we are witnessing, the Canadian government has raised the seal quota by 50,000. This year, sealers will be allowed to slaughter 388,200 seals—one of the highest quotas in Canadian history. Unbelievably, the few seal pups who have survived the ice disaster are now about to be beaten and shot to death for their fur.

It doesn't have to be this way.

A recent poll conducted by a leading Canadian polling firm Ipsos Reid reveals that half of Newfoundland sealers holding an opinion support a federal buyout of the commercial sealing industry. Such a plan would involve the federal government compensating fishermen for their sealing licenses, and investing in economic alternatives in communities involved. There is every reason for sealers to support such a plan.

A recent poll conducted by a leading Canadian polling firm Ipsos Reid reveals that fully half of Newfoundland sealers holding an opinion support a federal buyout of the commercial sealing industry.

Sealers are commercial fishermen, who earn, on average, less than five percent of their annual incomes from killing seals. In contrast to the small amount it contributes, the seal hunt is dangerous, difficult work, resulting in major damage to fishing vessels and injuries to crews in most years. As fishermen, sealers are feeling the impact of a boycott of Canadian seafood that will continue until the seal hunt has ended. Globally, the sealing industry is coming to an end, with the EU banning its trade in seal products and Russia ending its commercial seal hunt last year. The impacts of climate change on ice breeding seal populations make the future of commercial sealing even more questionable.

For too long, those Canadian parliamentarians have had to choose between sealers and the overwhelming majority of Canadians who want the seal hunt to end. A federal sealing industry buyout, with broad support in the Newfoundland sealing industry, could offer a new way forward.

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