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.