Carry-On Chaos... Traveling with Camera Gear in 2025

Traveling with camera systems used to be a challenge.

Now? It's a strategic battle.

In recent years, airlines have gotten stricter; smaller overhead bins, tighter weight limits, and far less leniency at the gate. 

And, If you travel with an underwater housing, dome ports, strobes, or even just a serious DSLR setup, you’ve probably felt the pressure.

For those of us who live and work on the road, who rely on our gear to capture those once-in-a-lifetime wildlife moments, the stress begins before we ever board.

Here’s what many of us are running into:

  • Carry-on weight limits are being strictly enforced. Especially on international airlines. 7kg (15 lbs) is a common cap, and it’s not enough for most housings, lenses, or strobes.

  • Bags are being measured and sometimes weighed at the gate. Not just at check-in. If it looks bulky or heavy, expect a pull-aside.

  • Hard Cases equal instant attention. That small Pelican case might protect your gear, but it screams "open me and charge this person."

  • Overhead bin space is shrinking. Especially on budget or regional flights. If you're not early to board, you might be out of luck.

  • Gate staff have less flexibility. Even if you’re polite and early, they often can’t make exceptions anymore.

Underwater rigs add even more complexity.

Domeports, trays, arms, strobes, and batteries aren’t just heavy, they’re delicate and expensive. Most of this gear cannot be checked safely.

Your only option? Carry it. All of it. 

And that’s where it gets dicey.

Even destinations that exist because of wildlife photography, like Churchill, Canada, have super strict carry-on rules.

Small regional aircraft mean limited bin space and strict enforcement of size and weight, regardless of how many 500mm lenses are onboard. I’ve seen photographers forced to check fragile gear just for being slightly over sized.

And it’s not just bush planes. Even large international airlines like Fiji Airways, with their massive 10-row wide-body jets, will weigh your carry-on at the gate and flag you if you're over their limit. It makes no sense when the aircraft could carry elephants, but your 18 pound backpack triggers alarm bells.

Here’s how I survive the gauntlet:

1. Weigh everything ahead of time.
Know the weight of each bag, including your personal items.

2. Use your personal item bags wisely.
A backpack or laptop sleeve can carry camera bodies, chargers, batteries, and memory cards.

3. Dress smart, and use hidden storage.
I’ve started wearing a lightweight, foldable photographer’s vest under a jacket. It’s low-profile but packed with utility. When I’m close to a weight limit at check-in, I’ll shift gear, like lenses, hard drives, camera bodies, even a laptop,  into the vest. It’s saved me more than once.

4. Never check housings or strobes.
Yes, technically you can check a Pelican case. But the moment it disappears down that belt, there’s always that pit in your stomach, the fear that it might not come back… or that something inside it won’t.

I’ve heard too many stories of gear showing up damaged, missing, or not at all. Apple AirTags offer some peace of mind, they let you track your bag, but it’s not the same as having your gear by your side. When you’re carrying thousands of dollars in fragile tools, peace of mind is everything.

5. Bonus Tip… Know your battery rights.
If a gate agent insists you check your camera bag, calmly explain that it contains lithium-ion batteries, which by international aviation law are not allowed in checked luggage due to fire risk. This isn’t just a tactic, it’s true, and it usually stops them in their tracks. 

Airlines are required to comply with IATA regulations, which mandate that all loose lithium batteries and most high-capacity packs must be carried on. I've used this more than once to avoid getting my bag checked.

6. Pay for Priority.
Board the plane early… You want that overhead space.

7. Pack with TSA in mind.
Use padded inserts. Make it easy for them to inspect without tearing everything apart.


It’s not just the airlines.
 

In places like Baja, Mexico, customs agents may inspect your bags and charge a tax if you appear to be carrying professional camera gear. 

The more expensive it looks, the more they want to charge.

I've gone through great effort to look like a non-diver when flying through certain airports. 

I avoid hard cases, dress casually, and try not to draw attention. 

But Pelican cases are a guaranteed stop-and-search. If you're seen rolling one through customs, you're almost guaranteed to be flagged.

It’s frustrating. 

You’re traveling to document and celebrate the beauty of these places, yet you end up feeling like a target for doing your job well.

Flying with gear used to be annoying. 

Now, it feels like a gamble. 

But for those of us chasing big wildlife stories in wild places, there’s no alternative.

Your camera isn’t just equipment. 

It’s your voice, your livelihood, and the tool that lets you share moments no one else gets to see.

Just be ready to fight for your gear at every gate, every airport, and every connection along the way. 

It’s stressful… But it’s worth it.

More Camera-Friendly Airport Tips:

1. Know your airline's carry-on and personal item policies. Some airlines don’t list camera gear exceptions online, but if you ask (especially in advance or via their support channels), they’ll sometimes allow one extra personal item for “fragile or valuable equipment.” Screenshot and save any confirmations.

2. Use the term “fragile professional equipment” If staff try to take your gear, calmly state:

“This bag contains fragile, professional camera equipment. It cannot be checked due to risk of damage and is exempt under standard airline policy.”

You don’t have to say “I’m a photographer.” Say it’s tools for work and they’re fragile and expensive. This matters more than job titles.

3. Mention insurance liability. If they still push back, say:

“This gear is insured and must be kept in my possession for liability reasons.”

That simple phrase often changes the tone. No airline wants responsibility for a $10,000 loss.

4. Be ready to show what's inside, briefly and professionally. If challenged at security or the gate, open your bag confidently and quickly. Showing you’re organized, respectful, and know your gear helps reduce suspicion and builds trust.

5. Print the IATA battery policy. Keep a printout or screenshot of the IATA guidelines for lithium batteries: https://www.iata.org/en/programs/cargo/dgr/lithium-batteries/

This is especially useful when flying through countries with inconsistent enforcement (like parts of Latin America or Africa). Show the regulation if they try to check a bag containing batteries.


Thank you for reading our Blog.

*New Blogs posted 3–4 times a week.
(sometimes more.)
Follow along for fresh stories, trip updates, and raw moments from the wild.

Day Two in Playa... Three Turtle Species!

Ramon ocean surfing on his fins… its what you do when you don’t have turtles.

Trip Report – July 6, 2025
Day Two…

This morning at 8:30 AM, we headed out into a much lumpier sea than the day before.

 It’s always amazing how quickly the ocean changes, yesterday was flat calm, today brought a bumpy ride. Still warm, just a bit rougher.

I’m still on the hunt for turtles, so the crew took us to Tortuga Reef, hoping for some solid turtle encounters. 

I was especially hoping for a hawksbill or a closer sighting of an Atlantic green.

As soon as we dropped in, we spotted a big male Atlantic green swimming overhead. 

I got excited, it felt like the start of a great dive. 

Shortly after, we saw the same turtle again gliding above the reef, but it didn’t stick around.

Green Moray Eel

That ended up being our only turtle sighting during the 45-minute dive.

I jokingly asked Ramon if the reef was named after that one turtle we saw.

I was reminded that years ago, Tortuga Reef earned its name because of the sheer number of turtles once seen here. 

Sadly, those days are gone. 

Pollution, food scarcity, and hunting, people used to eat them, (and some still secretly do), have made turtle sightings rare. 

Thankfully, a strong turtle rehabilitation program here in the Yucatán is helping the populations recover, but there’s still a long way to go.

Our second dive was at a reef called Sabalos (I think that’s how it’s spelled). 

It’s a beautiful spot full of small reef life.

We dropped in and immediately encountered a massive Atlantic green sea turtle grazing in the grassy field. 

This turtle was completely relaxed around our group, calmly munching on seagrass before surfacing for a breath.

While the rest of the group swam on, Ramon and I stayed behind to see what it would do next.

After surfacing, it returned to the seafloor and kept eating. 

We had an epic session with this big guy, photographing him from multiple angles. 

He was so much fun to work with. After several minutes, we let him be and rejoined the group.

Now, I was hoping to complete the trifecta with a hawksbill. 

If I could photograph one today, that would make all three turtle species seen in Playa in two days of diving.

Toward the end of the dive, I spotted Ramon in the distance, pointing into the reef. 

It was a juvenile hawksbill, a beautiful little turtle with a perfectly patterned shell. 

But it only had three legs. One of its back legs was missing, likely a shark took a bite at some point.

Despite the injury, this little hawksbill was happily feeding on the reef, totally unbothered by my presence. 

I fired off frame after frame, and she kept eating, unfazed.

After a few magical minutes, we left her to enjoy her breakfast and swam on, ending a fantastic morning photographing the sea turtles of Playa del Carmen.


Thank you for reading our Blog.

*New Blogs posted 3–4 times a week.
(sometimes more.)
Follow along for fresh stories, trip updates, and raw moments from the wild.

The Hidden Cost of Petting a Tiger Cub

Tiger and lion cubs are cute. 

There’s no denying that. 

Their oversized paws, curious eyes, and kitten-like playfulness make them irresistible, especially to tourists looking for that once-in-a-lifetime selfie.

Places in countries like Mexico offer exactly that…  the chance to hold, feed, and cuddle a lion, jaguar or tiger cub. 

But what most visitors never ask is…

What happens to these animals when they’re not small and cute anymore?”

The truth is heartbreaking.

Facilities that offer cub petting interactions are often part of a cycle rooted in cruelty and exploitation. 

Cubs are forcibly removed from their mothers just days after birth so they can be hand-raised for public handling. 

The cubs are used non-stop, passed from tourist to tourist, bottle-fed for photos, and often declawed or sedated.

But cubs don’t stay cubs for long.

By the time they're just a few months old, they’re already too strong and unpredictable to be handled safely. 

That’s when their "usefulness" to the business ends.

So What Happens Next?

What inspired today’s blog post… a facility in Playa del Carmen offers cub petting opportunities. The door was crowded with people trying to get a glimpse of the cubs as they walked past the place. I was gutted for these cats.

Male cubs, more often than not, are quietly euthenized. 

There’s no need for surplus adult males in these operations. 

They don’t generate money, they’re dangerous, and feeding a full-grown cat is expensive.

Female cubs are often cycled back into breeding programs, continuing the supply chain of more cubs to be exploited. 

A single breeding female can produce multiple litters a year, meaning these facilities can churn through dozens of cubs annually. 

Some larger operations cycle through hundreds.

It is a Multi-Million Dollar Industry…

Despite being illegal under many national and international laws, these operations persist, thriving on social media buzz and the tourist desire for exotic encounters. 

There’s big money in this business. 

One cub can generate tens of thousands of dollars in photo ops in just a few months.

Some places even operate under the guise of “sanctuaries” or “rescue centers,” deceiving well-meaning visitors who believe they’re supporting conservation. 

cubs are used non-stop, passed from tourist to tourist, sometimes sedated to calm the stressed animals.

But real sanctuaries don’t breed animals. 

They don’t allow public handling. 

And they certainly don’t kill off animals when they’re no longer profitable.

Why Is This Still Happening?

Enforcement is weak. 

Corruption exists. 

And for every person who walks away disturbed, a dozen more post selfies online, driving more traffic and demand.

Until more people know the truth, the cycle will continue.

Jaguar cub wild and free in the Pantanal, Brazil…The way it should be.

What You Can Do.

If you love wildlife… admire it wild. 

Skip the tiger selfie. 

Don’t support places that allow hands-on interaction with big cats or other wild animals. 

Instead, choose ethical experiences that prioritize the animals’ well-being over profit.

Let’s stop pretending this is conservation. 

It’s not. 

It’s exploitation, dressed up in a photo op.


Thank you for reading our Blog.

*New Blogs posted 3–4 times a week.
(sometimes more.)
Follow along for fresh stories, trip updates, and raw moments from the wild.

Diving in Playa Del Carmen... Day One.

Ramon and my girls, Mari and Sophia. Let’s go diving!!!

July 5, 2025. Day One, Dive One
We kicked off the trip down South with Phantom Divers for a couple of reef dives, and the conditions couldn’t have been better… calm seas, bright sun, and that perfect Caribbean glow.

It is always fun diving with Phantoms, here in Playa Del Carmen, Mexico.

We try to stop in and hang out with them every time we visit this part of Mexico. 

I met them back in 2009, during the Shark Diver Magazine days, and they have become part of my extended family. 

Especially my bro Ramon… A fellow shark feeder and genuine badass. 

Our first dive was at Punta Venado, where we encountered three turtles, two hawksbills and one massive loggerhead. 

Loggerhead seaturtle

No photos of the hawksbills this time, but I did manage to get a few shots of the loggerhead. 

She was a big, beautiful female, so large that she made Polo, one of our friends from Phantom Divers, look small in comparison.

Polo and Loggerhead

It was a fun dive, especially watching Ramon swim around with his camera, capturing everything. 

It’s always cool to see that after all these years, he’s still lit up by the marine life right in his backyard.

Ramon shooting the reef.

The dive ended with a school of jacks swirling above us, then dropping down to the reef right in front of us, a nice, big school of fish that made for a strong close to the dive.

Dive Two – Barracuda Reef

Next, we drifted over Barracuda Reef, a beautiful stretch with overhangs and pockets of sea grass. 

We were hoping for green sea turtles, and we found two grazing in the grass. 

Atlantic green seaturtles

They didn’t stick around long, greens tend to be more cautious than the other species. 

Polo and Ramon share a moment…

Later, we spotted a big male loggerhead and a male green turtle, but both were just out of reach for a real encounter.

Still, three turtle species on our first day of diving is pretty damn cool.

Also spotted a small school of squid, curious little creatures. 

They darted off at first, then came back around for another look at us. 

It’s those little moments that often stick with you.

It was a solid day, with old friends, good conditions, and turtles leading the way.

Tomorrow we dive again. 

Let’s see what shows up.


Thank you for reading our Blog.

*New Blogs posted 3–4 times a week.
(sometimes more.)
Follow along for fresh stories, trip updates, and raw moments from the wild.

Travel Day...The Beautiful Chaos Begins

It always starts the same, early alarms, groggy eyes, last-minute gear checks, and the quiet hum of anticipation.

Today is a travel day… We are Mexico Bound!

The beginning of another adventure into the unknown. 

And while I’ve done this hundreds of times, it never feels routine. 

There’s always a mix of emotion swirling just below the surface.

There’s the excitement, of course, the thrill of what’s ahead. 

The chance to see old animal friends in wild places. 

To meet new people. 

To witness the kind of moments you can’t predict and could never plan.

But there’s also the tug. 

The ache of leaving home.

The heaviness in the chest when you close the door behind you, knowing it’ll be weeks before you open it again.

You say goodbye to the familiar rhythm of daily life, and step into the rush of airports, red-eye flights, and border crossings.

And then… you arrive… Damn, I love Mexico.

The warm air hits you the moment you step outside the airport, thick with ocean and sun and a scent you forgot you missed.

The sounds are different. 

The language dances around you.

People smile in that way only Mexico seems to know; genuine, relaxed, present.

Even the light here feels different, like it’s been touched by salt and time.

Suddenly your body remembers why you came.

Your senses sharpen.

Your soul starts to stretch again.

That’s the magic of travel. 

It shakes the dust off.

 It strips away the predictable and throws you into presence.

You can’t coast on autopilot when everything around you is unfamiliar. 

You have to notice. 

You have to feel.

So yes, travel days can be chaotic.

Yes, they’re exhausting.

Yes, something always goes wrong, flights get delayed, luggage gets lost, you forget something important.

But still… we go.

Because the wild calls.

And something inside us answers.

Hola Mexico… Let’s see what stories you have waiting for us this time.


*New Blogs posted 3–4 times a week. (sometimes more.)
Follow along for fresh stories, trip updates, and raw moments from the wild.

Summer Run Has Begun!

A selfie in Tonga with humpback whales off Tonga.

The summer season has arrived, and for us, that means one thing… it’s time to travel.

Over the next few months, we’ll be on the road (and in the water) almost non-stop. 

From Mexico to Brazil, Canada to Alaska, and all the way to the South Pacific, this stretch of the year is the heartbeat of what we do. 

It’s wild. 

It’s exhausting. 

And it’s the most fulfilling work I could ever imagine doing.

Whale shark off Isla Mujeres, Mexico.

We’ll be diving with whale sharks off Isla Mujeres, tracking river dolphins deep in the Amazon, swimming alongside beluga whales, and spending quiet moments on land watching polar bears roam.

We’ll be heading into Alaska for the first time, a trip I’ve dreamed about for years, to experience brown bears in their element. 

Then it’s back to Brazil for jaguars and anaconda diving, before continuing on to photograph right whales along the coast. 

Jaguar in the Northern Pantanal, Brazil.

We’ll wrap the season in Tonga, for the humpback migration. 

Humpback whale mom and calf off Tonga.

 All these places, all these animals, help remind us why we fell in love with nature in the first place.

It’s a beautiful, relentless stretch of work, and I don’t take a moment of it for granted.

Because yes, we’re photographing wildlife. 

But what we’re really doing is creating space, for people to remember what it feels like to belong to the natural world again.

Polar Bear in Churchill Canada

This season, I’ve set a few personal goals.

The first: I’ll be recording daily vlogs from the field, raw, honest reflections from the wild, captured in real time.

When Wi-Fi allows, I’ll upload them to our YouTube channel and share the journey as it unfolds.

I’ve tried this before and failed, because honestly, the work is physically and emotionally exhausting.

Pink Dolphins in the Amazon River, Brazil

But I’ve always known: these places, these moments, these stories… they deserve to be seen and told the right way. 

Not polished. 

Not curated. 

But real.

We’ll also be updating The Daily’s page with trip reports from each location. 

Those will definitely go up, photos, field notes, and memories from each expedition.

Beluga Whales off Churchill Canada.

So this is your invitation, to follow along with us this summer. Daily trip reports with photos and stories, and if the internet allows… daily videos.

So please subscribe to our YouTube Channel if you haven’t already.

To feel the highs, the lows, the magic, and the grit that makes this life so alive.

I’ll be sharing it all. 

Not for show, but because this world is too wild, too beautiful, and too important to keep to myself.

Let’s begin.


*New Blogs posted 3–4 times a week. (sometimes more.)
Follow along for fresh stories, trip updates, and raw moments from the wild.

Where the Wild Heals You

There’s something about stepping into the wild that reminds you how much noise you’ve been carrying.

It doesn’t matter if it’s a remote jungle, a cold sea, or a quiet trail.

When you get far enough away from the static, something in you begins to settle.

To breathe.

You remember what it feels like to exist without trying so hard.

I’ve seen it happen again and again on an expedition.

People arrive with the weight of their world still clinging to them.

Shoulders tight. Eyes tired. Minds buzzing.

And then, day by day, the wild starts peeling it all away.

There’s no performance out there.

No inbox. No image to maintain.

Just water, sky, dirt, wind… and your place in it.

But let’s be honest.

Nature isn’t some gentle therapist.

She doesn’t offer soft landings or Disney endings.

The wild can be harsh. Cruel, even.

Out there, life is won in inches.

Weather turns fast. Predators hunt. Death is part of the rhythm.

And yet, we still go.

We crave her anyway.

Because even in her brutality, there’s honesty.

No sugarcoating. No pretending. Nature doesn't lie to you.

She shows you the truth of things, yours included.

And when you stand in that truth, you feel something ancient inside you wake up.

Something that reminds you… you’re still here.

Sometimes healing happens in a slow sunrise.

Sometimes it happens in the moment you realize you haven’t checked your phone in hours.

Sometimes it happens in the silence, when you realize you don’t need to fill it.

We’re not designed to be this overstimulated.

We’re not built to scroll all day and wonder why we feel numb.

We’re supposed to be in it, moving, sweating, noticing.

Nature doesn’t judge you.

It doesn’t care how many mistakes you’ve made.

It just invites you back.

Back to presence. Back to peace. Back to yourself.

And somewhere out there, between salt and silence, between light and breath, you feel it.

That tug.

That remembering.

That quiet, steady voice whispering…“You’re okay. You’re home.”


*New Blogs posted 3–4 times a week. (sometimes more.)
Follow along for fresh stories, trip updates, and raw moments from the wild.

The Moment I Realized I Wasn’t Alone Anymore

The Moment I Realized I Wasn’t Alone Anymore

There was a moment, not dramatic, not even that loud, when it finally hit me: I wasn’t doing this alone anymore.

It wasn’t when I hit a certain number on social media. 

It wasn’t when the trips started selling out, or when my work got published. 

It was much quieter than that.

It was on the water. Early morning in the fog. Freezing cold. 

The water was flat calm…

That kind of silence that only exists when everyone’s watching nature with the same reverence you are feeling. 

We had a group of return guests, people who had seen me at my best and my worst, who’d followed me to different corners of the world not just for the wildlife, but because something in them trusted something in me.

I remember turning around on the boat to say something, and I caught this moment, one guest handing another a lens cloth, a quiet laugh between two people who’d only met days before. 

And it hit me… this is a tribe.

Not a fan base. Not clients. A Tribe.

People who show up raw. 

People who know that discomfort is part of the reward. 

People who wake up at 4am, sit for hours in silence, get sunburned and salt-soaked, all for the chance at seeing something wild.

Over the years, that tribe has grown. 

Some join once. 

Some return again and again. 

Some send me photos of their kids wearing SDM gear. 

Some email just to say “hi and how are you doing.”

I didn’t build this tribe by being perfect. 

I built it by showing up and loving what I do everyday. 

By chasing something I couldn’t fully explain, and sharing it with the world. 

And somewhere along the way, others started chasing it too.

So if you’ve ever joined me on a trip, sent a message, shared a photo, told a friend, you’re part of it.

And if you’re still looking for your people… we’re out there, waiting for you.

In the salt. In the silence. In the stories we tell when the trip is over.

Let’s go share an adventure together!


*New Blogs posted 3–4 times a week. (sometimes more.)
Follow along for fresh stories, trip updates, and raw moments from the wild.

Portraits vs. Behavior in Wildlife Photography

Mountain Gorilla off Bwindi, Uganda.

Wildlife photography is more than just getting close.

More than just a sharp image.

More than a subject filling the frame with perfect light and perfect posture.

Don’t get me wrong, a beautiful portrait of an animal is powerful.

It can stop someone in their tracks.

It shows presence. Detail. Intimacy.

It’s an introduction to an animal, sometimes eye-to-eye, that says “Look at me. I’m real.”

Crossfox off Churchill, Canada.

But then there’s another kind of image, the one that doesn’t just show what the animal looks like…
It shows who the animal is.

That’s where behavioral photography comes in.

Sailfish hunt and feed on a swirling baitball of sardines off Magdalena Island, Mexico.

Portrait-style wildlife photography is about isolation and simplicity. You’re highlighting the animal itself, the way the light hits its face, the expression, the texture of the fur or feathers.

Red and Green Macaw, Sink hole, Bonito Brazil.

A good portrait can make you feel like you’re in the presence of the animal.

A great one can make you feel seen by it.

These are the kinds of shots that do well on covers, prints, or as iconic representations of a species.

They’re necessary.

They’re powerful.

And sometimes, they’re hard as hell to get.

But a portrait only tells part of the story.

Two brother polar bears, wrestle and play fight in the Churchill River, Canada.

Then there are the images that show you something happening, a moment unfolding.

Two animals interacting.

A mother protecting her calf.

A predator hunting.

A mobula ray breaching.

Even something small, like a yawn, a tail slap, or a subtle look between two individuals.

A lone male hippo yawns in a territorial display, defending his muddy waterhole in Uganda.

These shots draw you in differently.

You don’t just see the animal, you see a glimpse of its world.

Its instincts.

Its relationships.

Its intelligence.

Its role in the ecosystem.

You’re not just admiring the subject… You’re witnessing a story.

Jaguar catches and kills a yellow anaconda. The snake fighting for its life off the Northern Pantanal, Brazil.

Portraits connect us emotionally. Behavior shows us meaning.

But the behavior shots stick longer, because they reveal something we didn’t already know.

They educate as much as they inspire.

And they often take more time, more patience, and more understanding of wildlife to get right.

You can take a beautiful portrait in a few seconds if the animal cooperates.

But a true behavioral image? That’s earned.

Nurse shark hunting garden eels off Bimini, Bahamas. Sucking sand and water out with its powerful suction to get to the fish.

When I’m out in the field, I shoot both.

But I always find myself more fulfilled by the behavior images.

Those moments feel like I was trusted enough to witness something real.

The portrait pulls the viewer in… The behavior tells them why they should stay.


*New Blogs posted 3–4 times a week. (sometimes more.)
Follow along for fresh stories, trip updates, and raw moments from the wild.

When a Whale Chooses You: The Difference Between Connection and Escape

Humpback whale, mom and calf.

Not every whale wants to interact with you.

Some do. Most don’t.

And learning to recognize the difference is one of the most important things a wildlife guide, or guest, can ever learn.

Because not all encounters are created equal.

Whales are masters of silent communication.

And if they want to avoid you, they’ll make it known.

Blue whale

As the boat approaches, they’ll do one of two things:

They’ll dive immediately… or they’ll change direction.

And every time you try to approach, they just keep turning… keeping distance between you and them.

If you try to jump in ahead of them, thinking you’ll intercept, they already know.

Their senses are extraordinary, they feel your presence before you even hit the water. And in response, they dive deep or shift course, well before you get close.

These are not just reactions. They’re messages.
They’re saying, “Not today.”

On days like that, the most respectful thing you can do is stay on the boat. Watch from a distance. Let them be.

And who knows, after a while, they might change their mood.

They might decide they’re curious.

They might come closer.

Grey whale

But if they don’t, that’s okay too.

Send up the drone. Watch from above. Soak it all in.

Enjoy the encounter the way the whale wants to be experienced, without intrusion, without pressure, without needing more.

Because just watching a whale move freely through its world is still a gift.

Then… there’s the other kind of encounter.

The one where the whale chooses you.

It approaches slowly, without fear.

It adjusts to your presence instead of veering away.

Maybe it circles.

Maybe it stops.

Maybe it looks you in the eye, and in that moment, you know:

sperm whales

You’ve been accepted.

A whale that chooses to interact with you is a gift from God.

There is no greater underwater thrill than a whale that wants to engage, to play, to observe, to share space with you in the blue.

I’ve had beluga whales come so close I thought we were going to touch foreheads, one even peered directly into my mask, staring into it because it wanted to see my eyes.

That kind of curiosity you never forget.

beluga whale

I once had a Bryde’s whale with the zoomies, swimming under the boat, looping around us again and again, for over two hours. It was definitely playing with us, and I jokingly swear, the whale was making car noises as it zipped past us.

Right whales. Sperm whales. Humpbacks… I’ve been in the water with them all when they’ve made it clear… they wanted to play.

Some encounters were so intimate, we had to swim backwards just to avoid touching them, because they kept trying to get closer, to touch us.

Not out of aggression, but out of pure curiosity.

It is the stuff of dreams.

Right whale

And speaking of touch, there’s nothing quite like the experience in Magdalena Bay, Mexico.

Swimming with gray whales isn’t allowed there, but they still come.

They approach the boats, because they want to be touched.

They roll.

They lift up their heads.

They offer themselves to us.

And when a whale offers connection like that, not because you chased it, but because it chose you.

It’s one of the greatest experiences this life has to offer.

grey whale

Understanding the line between a whale that’s curious and one that’s uncomfortable is the difference between being a tourist and being a respectful guest.

It’s the difference between a good encounter… and a great one.

Between having a story to tell… and having an experience that changes you.

Brydes whale

So…

Read the body language. Respect the energy.

If the whales not interested, leave them alone.

If it is, be present, be grateful, and enjoy the moment.

Because the best interactions happen not when you swim toward the whale…

But when the whale swims toward you.


*New Blogs posted 3–4 times a week. (sometimes more.)
Follow along for fresh stories, trip updates, and raw moments from the wild.