.jpg)
The Arctic sun hung low on the horizon, casting a golden hue over a vast stretch of icy silence. On a small drifting ice floe, surrounded by freezing water and nothingness, sat a lone young seal named Nino.
But Nino wasn’t alone.
Next to him, tangled around his flipper, was a piece of colorful
plastic net — the kind used in fishing. It had been floating in the ocean
before wrapping around him during a dive.
At first, he didn’t understand what it was. It was soft,
then sharp. It made him feel heavy. He tried to wriggle, but the plastic clung
tighter. And now, on this shrinking patch of ice, he was trapped — tired, hurt,
and drifting farther away from the mainland.
But the adventure was only beginning.
The Ice Floe and the
Shadows Beneath
The ice floe was cracking slowly. Every few hours, Nino
could hear distant thunder — the sound of massive icebergs breaking apart. The
Arctic was warming, and the sea below wasn’t just cold anymore — it was alive
with danger.
Beneath the ice, a shadow circled. A polar shark —
slow, silent, and hungry.
Nino's scent had drifted into the water.
He knew he had to move. But the plastic net had tightened
around his back flipper, cutting slightly into his flesh. Every time he
flapped, it hurt. Still, he tried.
Suddenly, the ice shifted violently. A chunk broke away,
sending Nino sliding toward the edge. The cold water splashed across his face.
He panicked, looked around, and in that moment of fear — he remembered his
mother’s lesson:
“Don’t fight the ice. Feel it. Slide with it.”
With a deep breath, Nino shifted his body weight and slid
back to the center of the floe. He was safe — for now.
🔷 The Unexpected Visitor
Hours passed. The sun barely moved. Then, in the distance,
Nino heard a hum — strange and unnatural. A loud splash followed.
It was a research boat, bright red, slowly moving
between the floes.
Two scientists stood on deck. One held binoculars and
shouted, “There’s something on that floe! It’s moving!”
They moved closer.
Nino was terrified. He had never seen humans before. Were
they predators? Would they hurt him? But his instincts told him — these weren’t
threats. They were... curious.
The boat pulled up beside the ice floe. The scientists
leaned over and gasped at what they saw.
“A plastic net. He’s tangled!” one of them said.
With a gentle approach and a long hook pole, they reached
out, guiding the net off Nino’s flipper. He yelped, but didn’t resist. The pain
was sharp, but freeing.
In a few moments, the net was gone.
The boat stayed for a while. They tossed a few fish nearby —
a peace offering. Nino, still wary, took them.
Then, as the boat moved away, he flapped his flippers,
testing his movement.
He was free again.
🔷 The Final Swim
Nino dived into the icy water, swimming deeper than he had
in days. The shadow of the polar shark had disappeared. The sea was still
dangerous, but now he had his strength back.
As he swam toward a larger ice shelf, he passed more
pieces of floating plastic — bottles, wrappers, even a doll’s head.
He didn’t understand what they were. But now, he knew they
didn’t belong.
Conclusion
Nino’s story is not just an Arctic adventure — it’s a reminder
of what our plastic waste is doing to wildlife. A single plastic net
could’ve ended his life. Luckily, this story had a happy ending.
But many others don’t.
If we want to protect the magic and life of our planet, we
must start by keeping our oceans clean — before the ice, the animals, and the
balance vanish forever.
.jpg)