🦈 What It’s Really Like Swimming with Tiger Sharks

People often imagine that swimming with tiger sharks is a heart-pounding, adrenaline-fueled rush — like stepping into a scene from a thriller movie.

But the truth? It’s not about chasing danger or proving bravery — it’s about respect, awareness, and understanding the rules of sharing water with a true apex predator.

If you understand the rules, they are very safe to swim with.

When you're in the water with a big predator like a tiger shark, respect, and awareness, are everything.

Tiger sharks are ambush predators by nature. Curious, confident, and sometimes mischivious—and they always deserve your full attention.

That’s why two golden rules apply:

1. Never Take Your Eyes Off Them

They know when you’re not looking. If you lose focus, they may test you by sneaking up behind you. Your job is to keep calm, stay alert, and they’ll typically swim away once they know you’re watching.

2. Always Maintain a Safety Bubble

A tiger shark should never be allowed to bump into you. That curious nudge can quickly go bad—what starts as exploratory bump can turn into a bite if boundaries aren’t set.

Use your presence, awareness, and, if needed, a gentle redirection to maintain that safe space.

If a shark does get too close, here’s where technique comes in:

How to Safely Push a Tiger Shark Away

If necessary, you never push a tiger shark by grabbing it’s nose or the underside of the head.
Instead, lay your palm flat on top of its head and gently guide it away.

Why should you not grab their face?

Because under their snouts are highly sensitive pores called the Ampullae of Lorenzini—tiny receptors that detect electrical signals. Touching that area can overstimulate them, causing a shark to reflexively open its mouth wide.

And if you don’t know what you’re doing, things can go wrong fast.

It’s the small details like this that separate a safe, awe-inspiring encounter from a risky one.

Diving with big sharks like tiger sharks isn’t about being fearless—it’s about respecting the animals, and understanding their behavior.

After 20+ years of diving with tiger sharks, I can tell you this:

If you follow these guideline, you’ll walk away with one of the most humbling, beautiful and unforgettable experiences of your life.

There’s a high you get that comes from swimming with tiger sharks that’s hard to put into words.

It’s not the kind of high that comes from adrenaline—it’s deeper than that. It’s the magic you feel when a 12-foot predator swims past you, just feet away, looking at you when it passes.

It’s the raw, almost spiritual feeling of being accepted—even if just for a moment—into their world.

You don’t forget those encounters. They leave you buzzing for days. They humble you, reshape you.

Leaving you changed forever.

💡 Want to Experience This for Yourself?

Join us on one of our upcoming expeditions to Tiger Beach and Bimini for safe, unforgettable encounters with tiger sharks and great hammerheads.

👉 View Trip Details & Availability Here

Wake Up Before Life Passes You By

A reflection on fear, routine, and choosing the wild road.

A few months ago in Brazil, I met a 60-year-old man who lives along the Amazon River. As we chatted, I showed him a video of me playing with a shark. He watched it wide-eyed, completely transfixed, and then turned to me and asked with genuine curiosity, “What kind of fish is that?”

I told him it was a tiger shark.
He’d never seen one before.

Years ago, a younger version of me might’ve found that sad. How could someone live their entire life and never know the wonders of what’s out there?

But now, I think a little differently.

If that man is happy and content in his snow globe, then maybe there’s nothing tragic about it at all. He’s living his life, on his terms. And there’s a kind of perfect peace in that.

But…

If you're filled with wonderlust—if your soul itches for more—then no, that kind of life won’t do.

It’s funny—or maybe sad—how many people move through life on autopilot.
Wake up. Go to work. Feed the kids. Walk the dog. Eat. Sleep.
Day after day. Over and over.

And hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. I do those things too.
But if you’re reading this, I’m guessing that’s not all of you.
That’s just one part.

Because if you’ve found your way here, then something inside you is probably craving more.
More wonder. More adventure.
More moments that leave you changed.

Maybe it’s the ocean that calls you.
Maybe it’s the thrill of being around wildlife.
Or maybe it’s simply being somewhere new—heart pounding, senses wide open.

That’s what I write about.
That’s what I live for.

Bilbo Baggins running through the Shire, yelling out… “I am going on an adventure!” has always given me goosebumps. From the book ‘The Hobbit.’

So here’s the question that’s been sitting with me for years:
How many people live out their lives quietly wishing they were doing something else?

Or wishing they were somewhere else?

I’d bet the number is high.

And it leaves me asking:
Why do we cling to routine like a life raft?
Why are we afraid to step out the door unless we’re certain of the way back?
Why does “safe” always win over “bold”?

Here’s one answer I’ve come to understand:
Our brains are wired to protect us.
It’s an ancient thing—a leftover from the days when our ancestors needed to avoid danger to survive. That wiring is still with us.

It tells us to stay comfortable, to avoid risk, to fear the unknown. And while that instinct might have kept early humans alive, it can also hold us back from the very things that make us feel alive today.

We often have to fight through those negative thoughts just to try something new.

But when we do—when we push past that internal resistance—the reward is powerful.
The clarity. The breath. The feeling in your chest like the world just opened up.

That’s the good stuff… and that’s why I keep chasing it.

Because here’s the truth:
Life won’t wait for your “one day I’m gonna…”

So if you’re reading this and you’ve been wishing and daydreaming your way through the weeks, hoping for the “right time” to do that thing, take that trip, or become who you know you really are…

This is your wake-up call.

There’s a wild world out there. Full of beauty. Full of risk. Full of stories waiting to be lived.

And it’s calling your name.

🎒 How to Pack for a Wildlife Photography Expedition

Tips from the Field for Wildlife Photographers Who Travel
By Eli Martinez

After years of leading wildlife expeditions all over the world, I’ve learned that the way you pack can shape your entire experience. You’re not heading out on vacation—you’re heading into the wild. And what you bring (and how you bring it) matters.

My 3-Bag Rule (and What’s In Them)

After years of traveling to remote places—from polar bear country to the Caribbean Islands—I’ve refined my personal system down to three bags:

1. One suitcase for clothing, winter layers (if needed), dive gear, and essentials

2. One second carry-on for my underwater camera housing and delicate gear

3. One backpack—my lifeline

Of course, this only applies to personal trips.
If I’m filming a TV show or documentary, that rule goes out the window. Then it’s cases, crates, backups of backups, and checked bags for days. But for normal expedition travel—this is the system that works very well for me, and I can carry it all by myself.

---

1. The Suitcase – 50 Pounds of Strategy

Airlines limit checked bags to 50 lbs., so I make every item count. This bag holds my clothing and dive gear—or cold-weather clothing, depending on the trip.

For long expeditions, I only bring a week’s worth of clothing—and I always check if laundry service is available at the lodge. If they do not, then I will bring a few extra items.

For warm-weather or ocean expeditions, I pack light but cover all bases:

• 5–7 SDM t-shirts (including one nicer shirt for dinner out)

• 2 pairs of shorts

• Rash guard and board shorts

• 3-4 pairs of socks

• 10 pairs of underwear (because laundry access isn’t guaranteed)

• flip flops, or boat shoes (depends on the trip)

• I wear my only pair of pants—and if we’re hiking, my boots—on travel days

• Wetsuit (thickness depends on location)

• Mask, fins, and snorkel

• Travel BC and regulator (for our Tiger Beach trips).

• My diving Cap.

• Back up SDM cap

• Boat jacket

• Dry bag

• Extension cord

• Small external speaker

• GoPro pole cam and camera housing attachments

• Light weight tripod (for shooting northern lights, wildlife videos, or sunsets.)

• Portable tea maker ( I always bring one with me )

• toiletries

• tools for my underwater housing.

• Backup battery chargers for my cameras. (always bring a spare)

• Head lamp, and or a small flashlight

• Portable bag scale. I’m often packing right up to that 50-pound airline limit, so having a small scale makes it easy to redistribute weight or avoid surprises at the counter.

For cold-weather expeditions (like our polar bear trips), dive gear stays home. Unless I am going to Norway for orcas, or Churchill for belugas then snorkel gear comes with me.

I bring:

• Heavy winter coat

• Waterproof pants and insulated boots

• 4-5 pairs of long johns

• 10 pairs of underwear (because laundry access isn’t guaranteed)

• 4–5 thick socks

• 4–5 long-sleeve base layers or sweater-weight shirts

• Face masks (for wind and cold)

• Beanies are a must

• Mask, snorkel, and fins (unless I am renting fins, then they stay at home)

• Arctic wetsuit (unless I am renting)

• exposure jacket (for the boat.)

• ski goggles (for the boat in Norway, a must!)

*Important tip: I place an AirTag in every bag I travel with. It’s a simple but critical step to stay on top of your gear—especially when airlines lose things. I once tracked my lost checked bag as it took a vacation around the world before it finally made its way back to me. It is great for peace of mind.

*Also—wheels matter. All my bags have wheels except for my backpack. Even though I love the rugged look of those classic over-the-shoulder expedition bags, they’re just not practical for how I travel. For ease of movement through airports, small towns, and ferry docks, wheels win every time.

---

2. The Backpack – My Lifeline

This never leaves my side. It’s my mobile office, camera bag, and backup plan all in one.

Inside you’ll find:

• Camera bodies, lenses, and extra batteries

• Camera Cards

• Hard drives and cables

• Laptop (laptop charger)

• ear phones (with a pair of back-up ear phones)

• back up pair of reading glasses (I need them, don’t judge!)

• Small drone (if allowed)

• Portable external charger This is a must. I was once caught in a hurricane without one, and I’ll never forget that feeling of desperation trying to stay connected with the outside world while my phone was dying. Since then, I never travel without one.

• Small hygiene kit: eye drops, toothbrush, contact case, lip balm

• Two phone charging cables

• Lens wipes and microfiber cloths

• International plug adapter

• Emergency clothing stash: an extra pair of undies, a rolled-up pair of lightweight pants, and one SDM T-shirt—because I’ve had airlines lose my luggage one too many times

• Lightweight jacket: planes are almost always cold, and I’ve used it as a pillow, a blanket, or even something to sit on when my back starts feeling it on long flights

This backpack is my anchor. If everything else goes missing, I can still shoot, move, and function.

---

3. The Underwater Housing bag.

This one is all about keeping my underwater rig safe and ready:

• Underwater camera housing with camera inside

• Wide-angle lens

• Dome port

• Battery charger

• Extra batteries

• External lights (if I’m using them that trip)

Everything in this case is padded, protected, and crucial to what I do in the water.

*One more thing—for this case, small, light, and inconspicuous matters. The last thing I want is for my camera bag to draw attention from the wrong people or get flagged to be stowed under the plane. I try to keep it as under-the-radar as possible, choosing low-profile bags that don’t scream “thousands of dollars in gear inside.” It’s all about being smart.

---

✈️ I Never Travel Without Doing These Things:

• Print a copy of my passport and save a digital version on my laptop and phone

• Tuck away an extra $100 in emergency cash and a backup credit card somewhere safe

• Carry a written list of emergency contacts and phone numbers, just in case I lose my phone

• Share my itinerary with a family member or close friend before I leave

It’s a simple checklist, but these things are so important.

---

Want a printable packing list? Let me know and I will send you a PDF of my packing list.

---

📦 Bonus: My Personal Packing Rule

If I haven’t used it on my last three trips, it doesn’t come with me.
But if I wished I had it even once—it earns a permanent spot in the bag.

This system lets me travel with confidence… knowing I have what I need, and nothing I don’t.

I hope this helps you show up prepared and ready to create something unforgettable.

---

Called to the Wild: Documenting a World Without Fences

I’ve spent years chasing animals across continents, camera in hand, heart wide open—but I’ve never really stopped to write about why. Why I care so deeply. Why I do this work. Why I’ve devoted my life to telling stories of the wild.

So here it is. A little window into where it all began.

I was born in April 1971 and raised in San Juan, Texas—a small border town near the southern tip of the state. Back then, it was all dirt roads and open fields. We had two or three TV channels. There was no internet, and no cell phones.

That meant summer days were spent outside, in the Texas heat, under big skies, exploring my world.

I didn’t have neighbor kids to play with. My brother and I had different ideas of fun. So I was often alone… collecting lizards and bugs, watching animals, inventing games, playing in the dirt.

I had a freedom that’s hard to find now. No one worried about a kid roaming the outskirts of town alone back then.

And even at a young age, I was already showing signs of who I’d become. I had an addictive personality. A deep curiosity about animals. A fearlessness that sometimes made my mom nervous. She once told me she had to climb on top of the car to get me off the roof of our house. I was two years old.

From the beginning, animals were everything to me. I didn’t just like them—I needed them in my life.

I wanted to be a veterinarian, but not the kind who worked with dogs and cats. I wanted to work with lions. Elephants. Crocodiles. I wanted to be out in the wild, not in a clinic.

I read constantly. Poured over wildlife books. Studied animal behavior long before I had the language for what I was doing. And I always had pets—hamsters, chickens, cattle, horses, turtles, even show animals I raised through 4-H and FFA. Those programs taught me how to care for livestock, but they also taught me something else: I wasn’t built to raise animals for slaughter.

I’ve never liked killing. I’m not a hypocrite—I eat meat, and I understand the realities of life. But if there’s no need, I won’t do it. I’d rather just sit and watch animals.

As I got older, life pulled me in other directions. I worked construction, I fixed motor bikes, and I rode bulls.

I tried on the tougher life as a bull rider. It was a gritty, adrenaline-fueled world—raw and dangerous. Every ride was chaos. Eight seconds of violence and power. But even in those moments, surrounded by noise, dust, and cheering crowds, I wasn’t chasing trophies. Not really, I was chasing something else entirely.

For me, it was about learning to move with it— jump for jump. I wanted to dance with something wild and powerful. That feeling of riding an animal that couldn’t be tamed, and somehow matching its movements, was everything. I didn’t want to conquer it. I wanted to connect with it.

Eventually, I left that world behind, because I found something else that would change everything for me.

I encountered my first shark.

They weren’t what people said they were.

They were intelligent. Beautiful… and they had individual personalities.

I saw them clearly, and I wanted the world to see them that way too.

So I picked up a camera—not to collect images, but to tell stories. I wanted to speak up for the animals that had given me so much.

That camera became my compass.

In 2003, I launched Shark Diver Magazine, which opened doors I never expected. It connected me with people who felt the same way I did. And more importantly, it gave me a reason to chase these stories full-time.

Eventually, that mission evolved into SDM Adventures—a place where I could bring others along with me. Not just to show them wildlife, but to try and feel something as well. I wanted people to walk away changed.

That’s the heart of what I do now.

I take people into the wild not just to witness it, but to help them remember that they’re a part of it. I want them to feel what I felt when I first looked into the eye of a tiger shark. Or when I watched a mountain gorilla watching me. Or when a pilot whale hovered next to me like I belonged there.

As a kid, I was shaped by stories. Books and documentaries about people who lived with wildlife. People who gave their lives to understanding and protecting the natural world. Those stories didn't just entertain me. They gave me a map for living with purpose.

Now, I hope to do the same for others.

hanging out with a modern day dinosaur

Through photography. Through writing. Through expeditions. Through every conversation and every image shared, I’m hoping to spark something in someone else. A curiosity. A calling. A shift.

My life’s work is to document a world without fences. To capture what’s still wild and free—and to help people fall in love with it, just like I did.

Because when people fall in love with nature, they are more willing to protect it.

And that, in the end, is why I do what I do.
The wild called to me before I even had the words.

Now, I tell its story… and my hope is someone out there hears it too.

Playing with Extinction: Dire Wolves, Red Wolves, and the New Wild

It’s Colassal’s Dire Wolf on the cover of Time.

There’s something ancient and haunting about the idea of a dire wolf. Not just the Game of Thrones version, but the real thing—a massive predator that once roamed the Americas, now extinct for over 10,000 years.

And now, thanks to Colossal Biosciences, it might be coming back.

Or… something that looks like it.

This week, Colossal announced progress on creating a genetically engineered “dire wolf”—not a perfect resurrection, but a modern hybrid with dire wolf traits, bred from existing canid species.

Powerful. Bigger. Ancient in look, new in design.

It’s the kind of headline that makes you sit back and ask: What are we actually doing here?

Captive red wolf, North Carolina.

Are We Saving Species, or Rebuilding Them?

The most frequent criticism of Colossal’s work is a simple one:
Why are we trying to bring back animals that are already gone… when we can’t seem to protect the ones we still have?

And it's a fair question.

Take red wolves. Fewer than 20 survive in the wild. Their genetics are a mess—decimated by bottlenecks, inbreeding, and habitat loss. But Colossal is also working on cloning red wolves to help strengthen their gene pool and possibly reintroduce viable, healthier animals into the ecosystem.

Colassal has already created three cloned red wolves.

To some, that’s playing god. To others, it’s the only chance this species has left.

There is enough DNA from this 39,000 year old cave bear to help bring back this species… the question is, should we?

But here’s where it gets complicated:
If cloning works, and species can be brought back or “restored” in a lab… what happens to our sense of urgency to protect the wild in the first place?

What happens when politicians or the public say: “Let them die off—we can always bring it back later”?

That’s not science fiction anymore.

That’s happening now.

I’ll admit—a big part of me wants to see a mammoth walk the tundra. Or a dodo waddle through a misty jungle. Or hear a thylacine call echo through the trees.

My passion for wildlife wants to believe this is a good thing.

A hopeful thing.

But I know this isn't a rewind button on extinction. What’s being created is not truly what we lost. These are new animals—genetically influenced descendants, not perfect replicas. They may look like what once was, but they’re built from fragments, pieced together with modern tools.

It’s not resurrection. It’s reimagining.

And we have to ask ourselves—what’s the real reason behind all of this?
Are we doing it to fix what we’ve broken?
To scratch that scientific itch… because we can?
Or are we doing it just because it’ll make a dump truck full of money?

Lyuba the baby mammoth found in Siberia… displayed in Kalinigrad, Russia

Red wolves might survive now thanks to cloning—but are they still wild if their survival comes from a lab?

Some conservationists argue that these efforts create “GMO animals,” not true reflections of nature. Others see it as an evolution of conservation—using new tools to fix old damage.

The truth probably lies somewhere in between.

If a cloned red wolf mates with a wild one, and their pups thrive in the swamps of North Carolina, does it really matter how the lineage got a second chance?

If nature accepts them, maybe we should too.

Captive North Carolina Red Wolf.

Colossal isn’t just playing with DNA. They’re forcing a conversation we all need to have—about what it means to protect life, to restore it, and to possibly recreate it.

And I’ll be honest—I’m a torn soul in all of this.

Colossal claims the mammoth will return in 2028.

Because the moment a woolly mammoth walks again, or a thylacine is spotted moving through the forest, I’ll be the first in line to see it.

That’s the animal lover in me.

That’s ten years old me; cross-legged on the floor, flipping through dinosaur books, wishing I could reach through the pages and be there.

So yes, part of me wants this… Desperately.

And another part wonders what it really means if we do succeed in bring back extinct species.

I don’t have all the answers. I just know I want a future where wild animals don’t only exist because someone built them.

I want to stand on the edge of a forest or a beach or a frozen tundra, and see something real move through it… ancient, untamed, and still here.

If we use science to help that happen, not just in labs, but in the wild, then maybe we’re not playing god.

Maybe we’re just trying to make things right… Before it’s too late.

An Embarrassing Confession!

View fullsize

Young me, editor of SDM.
I had no idea where the passport would take me. Now I can’t imagine who I’d be without it.

This short blog was originally written for our newsletter on April 20, 2005.

I have a confession to make: I had never owned a passport.

Imagine that… the editor of Shark Diver Magazine had never owned a passport. The reason? I had simply never traveled far enough to need one. How boring is that?

No passport… No ticket to the world!

Sure, I’d traveled a bit, but never to any destination that required more than a birth certificate and a driver’s license. Well, that’s all changed. I’m now the proud owner of my very first passport—the world has officially opened up to me.

It’s funny how this little booklet has shifted my perspective. This small document with my name on it now allows me to visit places on the other side of the world. Without it, I was limited to neighboring countries that welcomed weekend warriors like me—those without a passport.

But now?

Now I can venture far off the beaten path. I can travel to places and dive in waters where few tourists have gone before. I can even get lost in a remote jungle somewhere (not that I want to get lost in a jungle… but I could if I wanted to—that’s the point!).

Maybe you think I’m overreacting, but I challenge you: if you don’t already have a passport, go get one. See how it feels once it’s in your hands. You’re no longer bound to your place of birth. You’ve officially become a Citizen of the World.

So, you want to go to Africa and slap a lion on the bum to see if you can outrun it? (Not recommended, by the way.) Hop on a plane and go.

You want to dive in Australia to find wobbegongs? Grab your gear and go.

As for me, I’m on my way to Fiji—to dive with bull sharks.

The world is your playground.

Where do you want to go? What do you want to do?

…end of the 2005 newsletter.

In search of anacondas, Rio Formoso, Brazil.

20 Years LateR…
What That First Passport Taught Me About the World

In Churchill, Canada… photographing polar bears.

On April 20, 2005, I wrote that newsletter called “An Embarrassing Confession.” In it, I admitted something kind of ridiculous:

I had never owned a passport.

Back then, I had just received my first one. It felt like a golden ticket. A small booklet that somehow made the world feel bigger, wilder, and full of possibility. I wrote with excitement about the places I could go—the animals I could photograph, the remote jungles I could wander (or get lost in), and the unknowns waiting for me in far-off oceans.

Now, 20 years later, I’ve filled that passport—and a few more after it.

And here’s what I’ve learned:

In search of snow leopards, Himalayas, India.

The Passport Was Never the Point.

The document opens the door, but it’s what you do with it that matters. It’s the early mornings in muddy riverbanks. It’s jumping into the ocean and swimming next to an orca. It’s standing in the snow at 14,000 feet hoping a snow leopard will show up.

The passport lets you leave. But the stories are what bring you back.

Photographing black bears, North Carolina.

The Wild Will Change You.

You think you're going out there to photograph something wild, to cross something off the list. But if you’re lucky, the wild ends up photographing you. It holds up a mirror. It reveals your patience, your fear, your awe.

I’ve watched people—myself included—return from a trip not just with images, but a completely different person with a deeper understanding of what it means to be alive.

Photograhing mountain gorillas, Impenetrable Forest Reserve, Uganda.

It’s Not Just About Where You Go, But Who You Become

That first passport stamped a beginning. But over the years, I’ve learned it’s not about how many countries you visit. It’s about how deeply you experience each one. How present you are. How much you’re willing to listen. To learn. To care.

And maybe, if you're lucky, to use your camera and your voice to help protect what you’ve witnessed.

Photographing humpback whales, Ha’apai, Tonga.

In 2005, I asked:
"Where do you want to go? What do you want to do?"

A little older, a lot more weathered… but still chasing the wild.

In 2025, I’d ask something different:
"What kind of story do you want your life to tell?"

Because whether it’s your first passport or your tenth, it’s never just about where you go—it’s about what you’re willing to chase, what you’re ready to feel, and who you become along the way.

Now go hit the road… and make your life the best story ever told.

Choosing the Right Camera: Speed, Durability, and Low-Light Performance

This is part three of a six part blog photography series.

When photographing predators, your camera needs to be fast, reliable, and capable of handling tough conditions. Here’s what to look for:

• Fast Autofocus & Tracking – Predators rarely stay still. A camera with high-speed autofocus and excellent subject tracking is crucial.

• High Frames Per Second (FPS) – The more frames per second, the more chances you have to capture the perfect moment. At least 10 FPS is ideal.

• Great Low-Light Performance – Many predators are most active at dawn, dusk, or in the shadows. A camera with a high ISO range and minimal noise at high ISO is essential.

• Weather Sealing – Whether you're in freezing temperatures, humid jungles, or dusty savannahs, your gear needs to survive the elements.

Top Camera Choices for Predator Photography

• Canon EOS R5 / R3 – Excellent autofocus, 20+ FPS, and superb animal tracking.

• Nikon Z9 – Fastest mirrorless AF, 20+ FPS, and built like a tank.

• Sony A1 / A9 II – Unmatched tracking speed with high FPS.

• Fujifilm X-H2S – Budget-friendly, fast AF, and great for travel photographers.

DSLRs still hold their ground too—Canon 1DX Mark III, Nikon D6, and Sony A99 II are great for wildlife… but mirrorless is the future due to its silent shooting, better tracking, and lightweight build.

---

The Best Lenses for Predator Photography
Zoom vs. Prime

Predators won’t let you get close… even though you want too, you really should not. A good telephoto lens keeps you at a safe distance while still filling the frame with incredible detail.

Zoom Lenses (Most Versatile and travel friendly Choice)

Zoom lenses give you flexibility—which is crucial when photographing unpredictable wildlife.

🔹 100-400mm f/4.5-5.6 – Great balance between reach and portability. Perfect for handheld shots.
🔹 200-600mm f/5.6-6.3 – Excellent for open landscapes, safaris, and birds of prey.
🔹 150-600mm f/5-6.3 – Affordable, great reach, and works well for handheld shooting.

Best for: Safaris, hiking with gear, general predator photography.

Prime Lenses (Best Image Quality & Low-Light Performance)

Prime lenses deliver the sharpest images, but they require commitment to a fixed focal length.

🔹 400mm f/2.8 – The gold standard for wildlife. Incredible sharpness, amazing bokeh, but heavy.
🔹 500mm f/4 / 600mm f/4 – Best for open spaces and birds of prey, but too large for handheld use.

Best for: Professional wildlife photographers, low-light shooting, and working from a fixed position (like a safari truck or hide).

What’s the Best Lens?

If you only take one: A 100-400mm or 200-600mm gives you versatility and reach.
For working professionals: A 400mm f/2.8 + a 600mm f/4 covers everything.

Tripods vs. Handheld: Which is Best for Predator Photography?

• Handheld Shooting – Best for bears, wolves, and fast-moving predators. Requires good technique and image stabilization.

• Tripods / Monopods – Essential for longer prime lenses (600mm+) or when shooting in a stationary position (safaris, hides, blinds).

For safaris, a bean bag for camera stabilization is more useful than a tripod since vehicles move constantly. Gimbal heads are also great for smooth panning shots.

Must-Have Accessories for Predator Photography

Great gear doesn’t stop at cameras and lenses. These tools enhance your shooting experience and keep you prepared.

• Teleconverters (1.4x or 2x) – Extend your zoom range without carrying extra lenses.

• Extra Batteries & Memory Cards – Cold weather, long days—you’ll need them.

• Rain Covers & Lens Coats – Protection from dust, rain, and scratches.

• Polarizing & ND Filters – Control reflections on water or bright snow.

• Remote Shutter Releases & Camera Traps – Essential for setting up remote shots of elusive predators. Camera trap photography will be part of a future blog series.

Shooting in the Wild: Preparing for the Conditions

Bears in the Wilderness

• You may be hiking for miles with gear—lightweight equipment is crucial.

• You’ll shoot handheld most of the time—a 100-400mm or 200-600mm is ideal.

• Low light can be a challenge—a fast prime lens is useful for dawn and dusk.

Lions & Big Cats on Safari

• You’ll be in a vehicle—a monopod or bean bag for stability is a game-changer.

• You’ll want zoom flexibility—100-400mm or 200-600mm is best.

• Expect harsh light—ND filters help in bright African sun.

But in the end, the best gear is the one that lets you capture the shot when the moment happens.

Because when a bear locks eyes with you, or a lion stares down your lens, you don’t have time to adjust.

You just have to be ready.

Safety First: Photographing Predators Without Becoming Prey

This is part two of a six part blog photography series.

Photographing predators is one of the most thrilling and high-stakes challenges in wildlife photography. The sheer power of an apex predator makes for some of the most captivating images—but the risks are real.

Arctic Fox off Churchill, Canada. 1/1600, F/11, ISO 1600

Unlike shooting birds or landscapes, predator photography puts you in the presence of an animal that can overpower and harm you. The difference between safely capturing an unforgettable moment and making a critical mistake comes down to experience, preparation, and having the right guides by your side.

The way you photograph predators—the style, the gear, and how close you get—can drastically change your safety level in the field. Some types of shots are inherently riskier than others.

North Carolina Black Bear. 1/1600, f/5.6, ISO 500

Close-Up Portraits: These are some of the most powerful predator photos—but they often require getting closer, either physically or through a long lens. The closer you are, the more critical it is to understand the animal’s body language and mood. If you're on foot or in the water, your margin for error is razor-thin.

Environmental/Landscape Shots: Shooting a predator within its habitat—using wider lenses and keeping your distance—tends to be much safer. You’re less likely to influence the animal’s behavior and more likely to capture a natural, undisturbed moment.

Action or Hunting Sequences: These are high-adrenaline shots, but also some of the most unpredictable. Chases, kills, or territorial disputes can shift in seconds. You must read the entire scene—not just the subject—to avoid getting caught in the action.

Jaguar predation on yellow anaconda. 1/4000, f/5.6, ISO 1600

Behavioral & Social Interactions: Capturing play, grooming, or parenting behavior can be incredibly moving. These often require longer observation periods, and while safer than provoking action, they still demand constant awareness. A relaxed scene can flip in an instant.

Polar bear mother and coy. i/1600, f/5.6, ISO 400

Bottom line: the more you push for dramatic or close-up shots, the more you need to balance creative vision with deep respect and caution.

The Importance of Having the Right Guides

One of the most overlooked—but critical—aspects of predator photography is choosing the right guides.

A Great Guide:

• Knows where to find the animals and the best time to be there.

• Understands animal behavior and body language better than anyone.

• Can position you safely while maximizing your photography opportunities.

• Knows when to move in and when to back off to avoid stressing the animal.

• Has a deep respect for the wildlife and ecosystem, ensuring ethical practices.

Chimpanzee Ranger guiding/protecting our group in the Kibali Forest Reserve, Uganda.

I’ve been in the field with guides who made the difference between an average day and a once-in-a-lifetime encounter. Wildlife photography is about respect, patience, and experience… and the right guide brings all of that together.

General Safety Rules for Photographing Predators Anywhere

• Give them space—if they acknowledge you, you’re too close.

• Never interfere with a hunt or a meal—a distracted predator is unpredictable.

• Use a long lens—400mm or more lets you capture stunning details from a safe distance.

• Never run—applies to big cats, bears, sharks, and almost every large predator.

• Stay downwind—if a predator smells you before seeing you, it may react more cautiously… or more aggressively.

• Always have an escape plan—know where to retreat if the animal gets too close.

Bobcat catching a red winged blackbird, South Texas. 1/1000, f/7, ISO 5000

Understanding Animal Behavior: Stressed vs. Calm.

Some of the greatest wildlife shots in history weren’t taken during a chase or a fight. They were captured when the animal was at ease—completely in its natural state.

A relaxed predator will:
• Hunt, groom, rest, or patrol normally.
• Move without stress or awareness of your presence.
• Engage in social behaviors—playfulness, territorial displays, or courtship.

A stressed predator will:
• Change direction, speed up, or stop feeding.
• Display warning signs—ear flattening (big cats), direct staring (wolves), sudden stillness.
• Become defensive or territorial, leading to unpredictable behavior.

If a predator is uncomfortable, your shot isn’t worth the risk.

leopard in Uganda. 1/1000, f/7.1, ISO 1000

Final Thoughts: Predator Photography is a Privilege

Photographing the world’s most powerful, intelligent, and elusive hunters is an honor—not a right.

Many of these animals are fighting for survival in shrinking habitats. They’re misunderstood, hunted, or vanishing quietly without ever being seen.

As wildlife photographers, we don’t just take images… we help tell their stories.

View fullsize

Rio Grande Valley, Texas. Massive population growth has turned wildlands into housing developments, shopping centers, and roads. Less than 5% of native habitat remains in many parts of the Valley. Dense thornscrub and Tamaulipan forest once covered much of the region—now, fragmented into isolated patches. Species that depend on large, connected habitats—like the endangered Texas ocelot—are struggling to survive.

The best predator photos don’t just showcase power. They show personality, struggle, survival, and a glimpse into a world most people will never see.

But that world is changing. Every year, there are fewer places where animals roam free.

And that’s why, every time we pick up a camera, we’re doing something more than photography.

We’re capturing something wild, untamed… and sadly disappearing.

Jaguar in the Northern Pantanal. 1/1600, f/6.3, ISO 2500

The Art of Predator Photography: An Introduction

This is part one of a six part blog photography series.

African Lion. 1/1000, f/7.1, ISO 1000

There’s something about locking eyes with a predator through the lens—knowing that, for a brief moment, you're in their world, capturing something raw, something untamed.

Whether it’s the silent stare of a lion in the Savannah, the calculated movement of a jaguar stalking its prey, or the raw power of a brown bear charging through a river, predators make for some of the most exhilarating and challenging subjects in wildlife photography.

But photographing these apex hunters isn’t just about pressing the shutter—it’s about understanding them, respecting them, and learning how to capture their power and presence in a way that tells a story.

This series is all about that.

There’s a reason why predators command attention in photography. They are the ultimate survivors—designed by nature for speed, strength, and strategy.

Unlike prey animals, predators don’t blend into the background. They are the ones doing the chasing, the ones shaping the balance of the ecosystem. And when you’re lucky enough to capture them in action, the result is an image that demands attention.

But that’s also what makes them so incredibly difficult to photograph.

Crossfox off Churchill. 1/1250, f/5.6, ISO 800

The Challenge of Predator Photography

Predators don’t pose for the camera, and they definitely don’t wait for the perfect lighting.

To capture them properly, you have to:

• Understand their behavior – What triggers a hunt? What signs show aggression or curiosity?

• Anticipate movement – Where will they go next? How do you stay ahead of the shot?

• Adapt quickly – Lighting, distance, angles—every moment is different.

• Stay safe – Knowing how to get close without becoming part of the food chain.

This is what makes predator photography a game of patience, skill, and respect. You’re not just taking a picture—you’re stepping into their world, and you have to be ready for whatever happens next.

North Carolina Black Bear. 1/1250, f/5.6, ISO 640

Ethics & Respect: Photographing Without Disturbing

One of the biggest responsibilities of a wildlife photographer is knowing when to shoot and when to back off.

Predators are not models. They are hunters, mothers, and territorial defenders.

Disrupting their behavior—even unintentionally—can mean the difference between a successful hunt and a failed one.

Florida Bobcat with sunset colors. 1/1000, f/5.6, ISO 400

A few rules I follow:

• Never interfere with a hunt – Let nature take its course.

• Give them space – A long lens is your best friend.

• Learn to read their behavior – If a predator starts reacting to you, it’s time to back off.

• Stay hidden when possible – A concealed presence means you see them as they truly are.

A great predator photo isn’t just about proximity—it’s about capturing their world without intruding on it.

What’s Coming Next in This Series?

Predator photography is about more than just pointing a camera—it’s about knowing your subject, understanding your gear, and being prepared for anything.

Over the next few posts, we’ll dive into:

• Safety tips for photographing predators in the wild

• Best cameras, lenses, and settings for predator photography

• How to track and anticipate a predator’s movements

• Techniques for capturing motion, power, and personality

• Post-processing techniques to enhance your images

Jaguar in the Pantanal, 1/3200, f/5.6, ISO 1600

Capturing a predator is more than just a photo—it’s an experience. A moment where you connect, even briefly, with the untamed wild.

And once you get that first shot, the one where the eyes lock, the muscles tense, and you realize you just captured something extraordinary… you’ll understand why we keep coming back for more.

---

The One That Got Away: The Mako Shark That Changed Everything

We were in Southern California, filming for the Outdoor Channel—a series called Blue Water Savages (2015). I have never been a fan of sensational names for shark shows. Sadly, every TV show needs a name like that to grab an audience. I do hope that changes.

The goal of the episode? To test a long-standing myth about mako sharks—the belief that once a mako reaches a certain size, it becomes undiveable.

We already knew that young makos—the smaller, faster ones in the 3- to 6-foot range—are lightning-quick, bold, can be highly aggressive, but are very safe to dive with, if you follow the rules.

Juvenile mako. 1/200, f/10, ISO 800

What makes makos so interesting is, when most sharks try to bump divers or objects, they do it with their mouths closed—testing their surroundings.

Makos? They bump with mouths open.

They come in quick, sometimes biting cameras and ruining dome ports, (I’ve had my share ruined), as if everything in their world is meant to be tested teeth first.

So what happens when that same shark grows to 10, 11, 12 feet?

If a small mako is already unpredictable and high-energy, does a full-grown adult become impossible to dive with?

Our Mako. 1/250, f/5, ISO 800

That’s what we were there to find out.

To make this happen, we needed the best—someone who could take us straight to the land of the giants. So we hired the best captain on the planet for the job. Keith Poe.

And he delivered us an 11-foot mako shark.

I was the first one in the water, followed by our producer Robin Berg and my son David, who was both filming and acting as our safety diver.

I admit, my stomach was in knots when the shark approached me for the first time. I had no idea what it was going to do. She swam up to me, bumped my camera. I turned the camera slightly so she wouldn’t scratch my dome port. She bumped it, and then swam off.

She did test us a few more times, feeling us out, seeing how we’d react. She bumped our cameras a few more times, we redirected her, and she swam off slowly. No crazy speed racer swims.

She was so cool.

David with our mako. 1/250, f/5, ISO 800

There was no recklessness, no erratic lunges, no overly aggressive behavior. She was relaxed, confident, in total control of the interaction.

The caudal keel on this beauty… just massive! 1/250, f/5, ISO 800

A total dream shark.

This wasn’t the unhinged mad predator we had been warned about. She was elegant, calm and curious about us. She swam around the boat, not once trying to eat our tuna hang baits we had offered her.

Everything I thought I knew about big makos— their unpredictability, their reputation for being undiveable—was being rewritten in real time.

This was easily one of the greatest shark dives of my life!

I was in heaven.

We got some incredible video footage. Clips that showcased this shark in all her glory—her power, her beauty, her intelligence.

Sadly I have some major regrets… I wasn’t the photographer in 2015 that I am today.

I had the opportunity of a lifetime right in front of me, and I didn’t have the skills to do it justice. I took photos, but they weren’t great.

They weren’t what they could have been.

I was also pressured to only focus on capturing video by my producer, since we were filming a TV show. So the window I did have for shooting any stills was also very small.

I think about this day often. How I would of shot it differently now. How I would frame each pass, how I would adjust my settings, how I would maximize every second with her.

A shark that size is extremely rare due to overfishing, so the chances of encountering one again is hard to say.

I won’t say never, but a shark like this is extremely rare…

But that’s how it goes in wildlife photography. You don’t always get a second chance.

1/250, f/5, ISO 800

That mako did change something in me.

It wasn’t just about the dive—it was about the chase, the unknown, the willingness to put myself in the water with an animal that few had ever dived with at that size.

It was proof that so much of what we assume about wildlife is based on stories rather than experience. That the only way to truly know an animal is to be in its presence, to study its behavior firsthand, to learn directly from the source.

That mako also taught me the importance of always improving, and always be prepared for the next encounter. Because you never know when that next “dream animal” will appear—and when it does, you better be ready.