The Catholic fishermen of Sri Lanka never cease to rejoice in their hazardous way of life, and offer constant thanks to St Anthony, their guardian saint, as Rachel Collingwood discovers

Facing the shoreline, they silently make the sign of the cross. The grand, towering structure, which appears to be a lighthouse, actually is the home of an arresting statue of Our Lady and she contemplates the fishermen, as they take us out to sea on their small, simple boat.

I am in Kalpitiya, in the north of the island of Sri Lanka, with my husband who is photographing whales and dolphins for the charity Whales and Dolphin Conservation. We see four dramatic killer whales, acrobatic spinner dolphins, and in our grand finale we are encircled by an armada of sperm whales, dipping and blowing and diving under the boat. It is quite a rare event and, to us, miraculous to encounter in our short time here.

Rather than be frightened by these gigantic mammals, one is struck by their gentle manoeuvres around us and their constant “chatting”. The females of the group even proffer their baby to the camera, gently nudging the infant’s nose to graze the camera lens and peer in. The fishermen here have latched on to the lure of the whales for the flurries of tourists descending on their seas. We are here to talk about responsible whale-watching with the fishermen and how to work alongside the giant mammals and not drive them away.