Anganni Mikaelsen navigated his boat past towering icebergs off the coast of Greenland when a seal emerged from the water. With a rifle shot breaking the quiet, he engaged in a practice that has sustained Greenlandic communities for centuries: seal hunting.

For many residents of Greenland, seals are integral to daily life and survival. The animal provides not only a source of food but also materials for clothing, sled dog feed, and handicrafts. Sealskins are a key part of the local economy, supporting thousands of Inuit hunters who rely on the trade to supplement their income.

After the seals are hunted and butchered, the skins enter a detailed processing cycle before reaching consumers. At the Great Greenland tannery in Qaqortoq, located in southern Greenland, sealskins undergo a multi-step treatment involving fat removal, washing, soaking to eliminate salt and blood, followed by further cleaning, dyeing, and cutting. The tannery produces items including pelts, hats, mittens, earrings, and high-end jackets that can sell for upwards of $1,000.

Despite their importance locally, seal products face restrictions abroad. Some countries, such as the United States, prohibit the import and sale of seal-derived items, though exemptions often exist for products made by Indigenous hunters, including those in Greenland.

In Nuuk, the capital of Greenland, sealskin garments are commonly found in shops, and seals are celebrated culturally through exhibits in the national museum and statues throughout the city. This reverence underscores the community’s deep connection to the animal. “No seal, no life,” said Frederick Willie, a Greenlandic schoolteacher, emphasizing the fundamental role seals play in sustaining both livelihoods and traditions.

Environmental activists have long criticized seal hunting as cruel and have targeted the practice in international campaigns. However, community members like Mr. Mikaelsen argue that such criticisms fail to recognize the cultural and economic significance of the hunt. “We live off seals,” he said. “You often see a whole family at the harbor hauling in the catch and preparing the skins together.”

As he departed in his boat, leaving a trail of blood in the water, Mr. Mikaelsen was reflective yet upbeat about the hunt’s yield. “This will last us five or six days,” he said, smiling. “And it will be good eating.”