John Hopkins

This is all in a day's work for Nan.

The CCRC is non-profit, so the research depends on the donations of benefactors.

Appearing in nature documentaries is one way to raise awareness for the cause.

At the end of the jetty, the director and his crew are loading up a boat with camera gear.

Nan links up with them and moments later, she guides their boat out beyond the reef.

They spend a productive afternoon following a pod of humpbacks and manage to capture some decent footage.

Mission accomplished.

But towards the end of the day, just when they're getting ready to return to land, the director makes a request.

Nan takes a deep breath through her snorkel and drops below the surface.

She takes a moment to orient herself, letting her vision adjust to the watery gloom beyond her mask.

She scours the depths for the whales, her eyes roving back and forth across the hazy emptiness.

And then suddenly, there they are.

It's a sight that never gets old.

Two humpbacks materialize from the ocean's blue fathoms like figures in a dream.

As they loom into focus, Nan takes in their incredible size, their wide, fan-shaped tails, the deep grooves that run along their pale throats, the distinctive geometry of their immense, curved backs.

Despite their vastness, they move serenely.

And yet, Nan doesn't let her guard down.

Years of experience have made her feel comfortable around whales, but that doesn't mean she takes her safety for granted.

On one occasion, while filming two female humpbacks, Nan was charged from behind by a juvenile male.

It's a miracle she wasn't crushed to death.