Antarctic minke whales.

Their pointed heads and short dorsal fins give them speed and endurance.

And they need both.

There are other whales here, too.

Killers.

This is an extended family of mothers and their young.

And a male with a huge dorsal fin almost two metres high.

A lone minke whale.

It's just what this group of killer whales are looking for.

Working as a team, as they have done for decades, they fan out across the strait in search of their quarry.

And they've found it!

The minke races away, pursued by outriders on each flank.

Terrified, the minke heads for the shore.

It's so desperate to escape, it almost beaches itself.

It makes a desperate break for freedom.

Two hours and 20 miles later, the minke is still alive and swimming strongly.

Its only real defense is its endurance, but the killers work as a team, with fresh ones replacing the outriders in relays.

And as the minke tires, the battering and the biting begins.

Seabirds are attracted by the smell of fresh blood rising from the water.

The killers try to flip the minke over.

If they can manage to keep its blowhole underwater, it will drown.

One forces the minke's whole body down below the surface.

And then, the final strike.

The team drag the minke under for the last time.

And the hunters, finally, can feed.