Amelia Steele: Hi Martin, please can you introduce yourself and what you do.

Martin Hartley: Mostly, I’m a photographer. Some people call me an explorer, but I prefer adventurer because I’m old-fashioned. I document scientists’ work, anthropologists in the field - anything that has some social value, I try to attach myself to it on an expedition as a photographer. And I’m also a very proud father of a dog called Jenny, named after Ranulph Fiennes’s first wife. I’m also a climate advocate. So I try to use my photography to enlighten people as to how beautiful the planet is in different places. I’m a social documentary photographer as well, and I try to use my photography to educate. That’s my primary goal as a photographer nowadays, is to educate people as to why we should be looking after the planet in different ways. My passion as a photographer lies with the Arctic Ocean, and I’ve spent the last 20 years documenting the sea ice - or, now, the decline of the sea ice - over the last 20 or so years.

AS: So how many polar expeditions have you been on, and what’s the one that stands out most for you?

MH: I’ve documented… I’ve lost count - over 25 polar expeditions, or assignments. I’ve been on five North Pole expeditions, been to Antarctica a few times, crossed South Georgia on Shackleton’s route. Actually, about 100 years ago… feels like it now. That was in 2001.

The three expeditions that stand out the most for me are my Arctic Ocean journeys, where I’ve been working with scientists to collect ground-truth data, and in the process of doing that, photographing the sea ice and the state of the sea ice. And that’s taught me a lot about the different forms and ways the Arctic Ocean exists as an environment - from above open water to beneath the surface. I’ve even documented creatures from 4,000 metres on the bottom of the Arctic Ocean. Earlier this year, as part of a project, we discovered a new species while capturing as much genetic data as possible from creatures living in the sea before they disappear.

AS: Wow, that’s amazing! So what expedition was that, and can you tell me a bit more about it?

MH: I was asked to join an expedition with 36 scientists from 16 different countries. We went out on a purpose-built Norwegian icebreaker to the Arctic Ocean to look at the deepest part of the ocean, which is 6,000 metres deep. Around the Arctic Ocean, there are hydrothermal vents, and certain creatures only exist around those spots. It was the first expedition of its kind, funded by the Nippon Foundation. It’s a ten-year program to document genetic data with sea creatures around the world, and this expedition was focused on discovering new species at the bottom of the Arctic Ocean. The ship was $1.6 billion, and on board, we had robots with arms designed to pull cooling rods from nuclear reactors. They went down to find these creatures and bring them up to the surface, where we’d photograph them. Photographing new species on a moving ship, in a sloshing tank, was quite difficult. But over the course of a month, we found a lot of new species, which I had to photograph.

AS: Incredible. So looking back on your body of work, including expeditions with Pen Hadow, Ann Daniels, and the Catlin Arctic Survey, which moment in your polar career, or life in general, do you feel most proud of?

MH: That’s hard to pin down. Most expeditions have a moment - just one moment- where I have this incredible feeling of, “My God, what an amazing planet we live on.” I often think we’re on a planet floating in space, surrounded by darkness, and here we are in this amazing landscape or seascape. For a few minutes, I think, “This right here, just has to be protected.”

I’m quite fickle when it comes to the most beautiful spots in the world, because you’re immersed in each place at that moment. There was a time on the Nicobar Islands where the chief of one of the villages told us, “Thank you for coming. Please don’t ever come back.” It really hit me that we weren’t welcome, and that was a powerful moment. 

And then, in India, I documented a way of life that’s now gone, capturing images of people on a frozen river in Zanskar, knowing that the culture was going to disappear. That reinforced to me the value of the work I’ve done in the past. Looking at those old photographs now, I realise they have a cultural and social value that’s really significant.

AS: And so, how does that make you feel when you look back at those pictures from the Arctic Ocean, where the sea ice is nearly all gone, the multi-year ice is now gone? And also, when you think about the culture in North India, that was a self-contained village where they made their own food, made their own clothes from a particular species of sheep, completely self-sustained for eight months of the year because they were cut off by the snow.

MH: So, looking back at those pictures now, knowing there's a road and vehicles going to and from, and they’re not cut off anymore - it does make me sad. There’s this romantic idea that we can preserve cultures because we think they should be preserved, but in reality, the young people in the village wanted access to bigger cities via that road. The elders didn’t want that, so there's a generational conflict of interest there. But those pictures I took from that place and time - I think I'll appreciate them more as life goes on, and probably when I'm long gone, those pictures will hold even more value.

AS: You’ve obviously photographed all over the world, in some of the world’s most challenging environments. Apparently, you were once tasked with taking the FA Cup to Antarctica?

MH: Yes! The strangest polar assignment I ever had! I actually thought it was a joke at first. I received an email from the PR agency for the Football Association, and I thought, "This can’t be real." They wanted an adventure photographer to document the journey of fans on an FA Cup qualifying day, capturing the supporters’ experiences, not the football itself - which was ideal because I’m not a football fan.

We had the meeting on a Monday, and I was flying to Cape Town on Saturday to head to the South Pole. So, half-joking, I said, “Why don’t I take the FA Cup to the South Pole so it can have its own adventure to kick off the campaign?” They laughed it off, but then, on Thursday night at 11 p.m., the head of the PR agency called me and said, “Martin, if you can get the FA Cup insured, you can have it.” I called one of my previous sponsors for an Arctic expedition, and they agreed to insure it. So, off I went to the South Pole - with the FA Cup.

At Heathrow Airport, reality hit. A big, tattooed guy came up to me, removed the FA Cup from its shiny case, snapped a photo, and said, “Right, it’s going on the seat next to you, right?” I said, “No, it’s going in the hold.” And he replied, “No, that cup has never travelled out of the country without a ticketed seat next to someone.” 

He just walked off, calling me an idiot. I was pushing the FA Cup in a food barrel, sweating because I realised I was carrying the crown jewels of football. Eventually, the police stopped me, asking what was in the blue barrel, and when I told them, they didn't believe me. So, I had to show them the FA Cup wrapped in an old green sleeping bag, and they finally let me through security.

AS: That’s an amazing story. And it sounds like photographing new sea creatures on a moving ship was pretty challenging, but getting the FA Cup through security must have been quite a feat. What would you say is the most challenging situation you’ve faced while trying to shoot on an expedition? 

MH: I’ve faced a lot of challenging situations. One of the toughest was on a 100-day Arctic Ocean expedition. On day three, I got frostbite. I took my socks off and saw that my toes had gone that classic aubergine colour. I had to make a quick decision: either get extracted and try to save my toes in a hospital or stay and hope for the best. It was early in the expedition, the coldest time, and I thought, "If I’m going to lose my toes, I might as well lose them out here rather than lying in a hospital bed feeling sorry for myself."

Once I made the decision to stay, everything felt easier - not physically, but mentally, because the decision had been made. But each day, the biggest challenge was just getting my boots on. I knew I couldn’t let my toes get cold again or infected, so that decision stayed with me constantly. Every night, I’d worry if my toes would make it. But at that point, I just gave in to the expedition’s purpose - documenting the sea ice over miles and days. The decision to stay was hard, but once it was made, I could manage everything else.

AS: Bloody hell. So, did you end up losing your toes?

MH: No, actually, I still have them all. I was lucky. My teammate, Daniels, tended to my feet every night in the tent, changing the bandages and cleaning them, making sure they didn’t get refrozen.

AS: That’s incredible resilience. And it seems like in the polar environments, those kinds of personal decisions and inner strength play a huge role. What sort of personal characteristics and skills do you think are essential for photographing in such challenging conditions?

MH: So, when you're picking - or being picked - for a team, or choosing a team. I want to talk about the Arctic Ocean. That has to be the most challenging place to be, both as a photographer and as a human. There's no escape from the cold, not even for a moment. In Antarctica you get some benefit from solar radiation, from the sun heating the tent. But in the Arctic, we don't get that. That’s why you have to fully commit yourself to the team. Whatever the team’s goals and aims are, they have to be laser-focused for everyone. That’s when a team works - when everyone is absolutely aligned on the same aims.

AS: Once you get separate agendas within a team, it falls apart, doesn’t it?

MH: Absolutely. The cold will expose any weakness, whether in a person, a piece of equipment, or the team itself. The cold breaks things, people, mental states, and even physical parts. So, when you’re choosing team members, or offering yourself to any team, you have to commit entirely to the mission’s aims. That’s how you get a team to work - when everyone holds the same philosophy.

AS: What makes a team work, beyond all adopting the same philosophy and being fully on board? What really holds a team together?

MH: The job just gets done. You don’t wait to be asked; you see something that needs doing, and you do it. You don’t even talk about it—no one has to ask you. If the tent is flapping in the wind, everyone will step in to make it safe. You don’t wait to be asked, and you don’t announce, “I just did this.” That’s how you spot a good team player - when they simply do things without seeking recognition.

AS: Interesting. I notice this theme of people doing tasks without even telling anyone - they just do it. I think something that comes up often in my interviews with explorers is a sense of humility. Shackleton, for instance, encourages people to live courageously, to inspire, empower, and equip others to live the most courageous lives. Many polar explorers I’ve spoken to are very self-effacing. They’d never call themselves courageous, though others might. So, outside of your own achievements, what does courage mean to you?

MH: Courage, for me, is when someone takes themselves out of a safe environment and puts themselves into a difficult or dangerous one, by choice. That’s bravery. Another form of bravery is when a situation develops that becomes dangerous, and you choose to act to help your team get out of that mess. That requires slow thinking, not panicking. Thinking your way out of a situation without panicking takes courage because it often means sacrificing your own needs to help your teammates.

Courage is when you’re in a challenging situation, and you think slowly to achieve the best outcome. There are two kinds of courage, really. One is taking yourself out of a safe place and into a dangerous one for a greater cause, like science or helping someone else. The other is remaining calm and putting someone else’s needs ahead of yours, even when that requires sacrifice. Without courage, you’d just look after yourself or walk away.

AS: Could you give a quick overview for anyone who isn’t familiar with your expeditions, the miles you’ve covered in the Arctic and Antarctic, and all over the world?

MH: Over the last 20 years, I’ve documented desert journeys across Oman and Yemen, the Empty Quarter, and the Himalayas in the winter. I’ve been to the North Pole and the South Pole, worked with scientists on and under the sea, and worked with anthropologists all around the world. I’ve photographed deserts, mountains, jungles, oceans, and polar ice caps.

AS: I know you’ve been recognised by TIME magazine and commissioned for National Geographic. Could you talk a little about those recognitions?

MH: Yes. TIME magazine nominated me for a Hero of the Environment award because of my work documenting the state of the Arctic sea ice on various surveys, including NASA’s IceBridge project. I’m quite proud of that. I was also named one of the world’s top 40 nature photographers, nature being the natural world, and I’ve worked for National Geographic on a number of assignments, including retracing the Frankincense Trail.

AS: And if you had to put it into one phrase, what is it you’re trying to achieve with your life and work? What’s your ultimate aim?

MH: When I started as a photographer, my aim was to photograph beautiful things, but that felt shallow. Over the years, though, I realised those beautiful things have become really meaningful for the environment, for society, and for human culture. My aim now is to use my photography to educate people on the importance of the environment and to encourage them to protect it by changing their behaviours.

AS: Is there anything else you’d like to talk about? Perhaps your current project?

MH: My next project will be my magnum opus. I’m planning to return to the Arctic Ocean to document the last of the oldest sea ice. That ice is critical because it reflects solar radiation back into space. Without it, we’ll have lost a key ally in fighting climate change. This project, in collaboration with NASA, the European Space Agency, and the Japanese Space Agency, will locate the last of the multi-year sea ice, and we’ll go out there to take measurements, or “ground truth,” to help recalibrate satellite data.

AS: Could you explain what “ground truth” is?

MH: Ground truth is actual measurements taken at the origin, so satellites have real data to compare against. For instance, if the satellite estimates that the ice is four metres thick, but on the ground, it’s actually only 1.7 metres, that measurement helps the satellite recalibrate and make predictions more accurately.

AS: That makes sense. Thank you so much, Martin.

To learn more about the Shackleton Pioneer Programme visit this link. To watch Martin Hartley's short film visit this link.