Waiting for Wildlife

After more than 20 years of guiding trips and showing people animals, from oceans to forests, there is one thing needed on every single adventure.

Patience.

Animals do not show up on demand.

You have to put in the time. You have to go to the right places during the right time of year. You have to have great guides who understand animal behavior, the landscape, and where to look.

And even if you do everything right, with all the right people...

There are still no guarantees you will see anything.

Getting skunked is part of the game.

It’s not the part we want. Nobody travels halfway around the world hoping to spend days searching for an animal that never shows up.

But unfortunately, if you want to find magic, it’s the only game worth playing.

Wildlife trips involve a tremendous amount of downtime. Searching. Waiting. Watching. Driving. Sitting in boats. Staring at empty stretches of ocean or forest and praying that the animal you traveled halfway around the world to see will finally show up.

Sometimes it takes minutes.

Sometimes hours.

Sometimes days.

And sometimes it never happens.

There are no guarantees.

And I am so very thankful for that.

Because that uncertainty is part of what makes these encounters mean so much.

If the animals appeared every time we wanted them to, exactly where we wanted them to, the experience wouldn’t be the same. There would be no anticipation. No search. No incredible rush when somebody suddenly points and says...

“There!”

I think one of the most important parts of leading wildlife trips is managing expectations.

And sometimes that means having an uncomfortable conversation before the adventure even begins.

I can tell you when the animals are normally there. I can take you to the places where we have historically had our best encounters. I can put you with great guides who know the animals and know the area.

We can study weather, tides, seasons, behavior, and everything else that might help stack the odds in our favor.

But I can never promise you an animal.

No ethical wildlife guide can.

What I can promise is that we will put in the time.

We will search.

We will work hard.

And when an opportunity presents itself, we will do everything we can to put our guests in the right place to experience it.

That distinction matters.

Because managing expectations doesn’t mean lowering them.

It means understanding what you are signing up for.

This isn’t a zoo. It isn’t a theme park. There isn’t an animal waiting behind a curtain for us to arrive.

We are entering their world, on their terms.

And I think accepting that before the trip even begins makes the entire experience better.

I’ve seen it countless times over the years. A guest becomes frustrated because the animal hasn’t shown up. Maybe we’ve been searching for hours. Maybe we’ve been searching for days.

They traveled a long way. They spent a lot of money. They dreamed about this experience for months or even years.

Naturally, they want that encounter.

And I totally understand.

I want it badly as well.

Every guide and trip leader wants their guests to have that incredible moment.

But nature doesn’t care about our schedules.

Wildlife is wildlife.

And in the end, we get what nature decides to give us.

What we are all really searching for is one special encounter.

One magical moment with the animal we have dreamed about seeing.

Just one.

But we have to be willing to put in the time for a chance at it.

Because when that animal finally does show up, especially after hours, days, or sometimes weeks of searching… there are few feelings in the world like it.

I have experienced it countless times.

Hours of absolutely nothing.

Then suddenly... Everything changes.

A wolf walks out of the forest.

A polar bear appears on the horizon.

A whale rises beside the boat.

An animal looks directly at you and, for one brief moment, allows you into its world.

The difference between nothing happening and having one of the greatest wildlife encounters of your life can literally be one minute.

That is wildlife.

That is why we search.

And after more than 20 years of doing this, that is still all I want for our friends who travel with us… is to feel that magic moment for themselves.

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A Podcast About Wildlife, Family, Sharks, and the Road That Led Here

Recently I had the opportunity to sit down with the Rio Grande Podcast, a podcast based right here in my home here in South Texas.

It was a fun conversation because it wasn't really about a single trip, a single animal, or even a single photograph.

It was about the journey.

We talked about how this whole thing began.

We talked about sharks, wildlife photography, family, conservation, and some of the incredible animals I've been fortunate enough to share time with over the years.

But more than anything, we talked about the moments.

The moments that change you.

The moments that remind you why you started.

The moments that keep you getting back on airplanes, boats, and dusty roads even after thousands of miles and countless adventures.

We also spent some time talking about family and the role they have played in all of this. Anyone who has followed our adventures knows that none of this happens alone. Every expedition, every story, every success has been built with the support of family, friends, guides, guests, and countless people I've met along the way.

One of the things I enjoyed most about the conversation was the opportunity to look back.

Most of the time I'm focused on the next trip, the next animal, the next story.

Rarely do I stop and think about the path that led here.

The truth is, I've been lucky.

Lucky enough to spend my life around wildlife.

Lucky enough to turn a passion into a career.

Lucky enough to share these experiences with people from all over the world.

And lucky enough to call South Texas home.

If you'd like to hear the full conversation, I hope you'll take some time to listen.

It's a conversation about wildlife.

But it's also a conversation about life.

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You can listen to the podcast HERE.

Or

Watch the interview on Youtube.

The Camera You Brought Is Enough

I get asked about camera equipment on almost every trip.

People show up with everything you can imagine; brand new mirrorless rigs, older DSLRs, compact cameras, Gopros, phones, housings held together with hope.

Some guests feel confident. Others feel instant camera envy the moment they see what someone else is shooting with.

And I see it happen every time.

Someone looks at another guest’s setup and quietly wonders if they brought the wrong camera. If their images will somehow matter less.

If they’ll fall short.

Here’s the truth.

Yes… some cameras capture light, color, and dynamic range better than others.

That’s real. Technology moves fast.

New gear is impressive.

But none of that matters if you forget to enjoy the moment you’re standing in.

It’s easy to feel bad about what you brought because someone else has more.

A newer body. A faster lens. A shinier housing.

But long after the trip is over, long after you’ve edited the photos, shared them, and eventually stopped looking at them, what stays with you is the feeling of the place.

The cold water.
The silence.
The animal deciding whether to come closer.

That’s what lasts.

The memory you leave with will always outweigh what you captured.

I’ve been shooting with my underwater camera, Gloria, for over ten years now. By today’s standards, she’s outdated. Slower. Louder. Limited compared to the newer mirrorless rigs guests bring along.

But I know her.

I know where her limits are.
I know what light she likes, and what light she hates.
I know what I can push, and what I shouldn’t even try.

And because of that, I can get everything out of her that she has to give.

That’s my real recommendation to you.

If your camera doesn’t produce the same technical results as the newest gear, don’t panic.

Don’t compare.

Instead, ask a better question:

What can I do to get the very best out of what I already have?

Learn your camera’s strengths.
Respect its limits.
Work with the light instead of fighting it.

When you do that, you’ll come home with images you’re proud of, and more importantly, memories that still feel alive when the photos are put away.

Because in the end, the goal isn’t perfect images.

It’s being there when something real happens.

And no camera, no matter how expensive, can do that part for you.

Timing Is Everything

Some of the best images of my life never made it to my memory cards.

Not because the wildlife wasn’t there… but because I wasn’t ready when the magic happened.

There’s a truth in wildlife photography that takes years to fully accept, and even longer to master:

Timing is everything.

Wildlife behavior happens in flashes.

A second too late, and the moment is gone. 

In the wild, nature doesn’t repeat itself for the camera. 

You either catch the moment, or you don’t.

There is no reset button.

Jaguar hunting a Yacare Caiman in the Northern Pantanal

I’ve learned this lesson the hard way.

Over the years, I’ve lost more moments than I’ve captured…

My camera was still in the bag. My settings were wrong. I was focused on the wrong animal when the right one did something unforgettable.

And every one of those missed moments stays with you.

Because each one had the potential to be… THE IMAGE.

the kind that wins awards.
the kind that becomes a signature shot.
the kind that tells a story no one else has told.

But they slipped away.

Brown bear catching a salmon in Katmai Alaska.

Wildlife doesn’t care if you’re ready.

It doesn’t wait for you to switch lenses or adjust ISO.
It doesn’t warn you before something incredible happens.
It just happens, fast, unpredictable, and often only once.

That’s the beauty and the heartbreak of behavior photography.

Orca hunting a mola mola off Baja Mexico

So what do you do? 

You prepare. You stay ready. You become a student of timing.

• You keep your camera out, not in the bag.

• You learn to read animals like a language.

• You anticipate behavior before it unfolds.

• You adjust your settings before the moment arrives.

• You watch the scene with your eyes, not your screen.

Tiger Heron eating a tree frog off the Northern Pantanal, Brazil.

Because the more you’re ready, the more the wild reveals.

It doesn’t mean you stop missing shots, trust me, I still miss plenty.

But you start missing fewer.

And the ones you catch?

They are gifts from nature.

And they belong to the photographer who’s ready when the magic happened.

Polar Bear getting attacked by an Arctic tern off Churchill, Canada.

🎥 Introducing The Wild Minute… The Wild in Motion

There are moments on our trips that can’t be shared with words alone, the sound of an orca’s breath breaking the surface, the laughter of our team on a long travel day, the quiet stillness after a storm.

The idea for The Wild Minute was born out of that space between still photos and full trip reports.

I wanted a place to share the heartbeat of what we experience out there. 

They will be short, one-minute video stories from the field, raw, unfiltered, and real. 

Some will be encounters with wildlife. Others are travel days, reflections, or simple slices of life between the big moments.

For years, our written blogs and daily trip reports have told the stories behind the images. 

Now, The Wild Minute adds another way to share the sounds, movement, and the pulse of being there.

My hope is that it helps you feel a little closer to these places and the incredible animals that call them home.

A sample of what The Wild Minute will look and feel like.

Each clip will live on our website, connected to the stories and expeditions they came from. 

So whether you prefer reading the trip reports, watching the moments unfold, or both, you can follow the journey in real time, one minute at a time. I am keeping them short so they don’t eat up too much of your time.

Our next adventure takes us north, to Churchill, Canada, where polar bears roam the edge of Hudson Bay. 

That’s where Wild Minute will begin. The journey starts November 2, and so will the stories.

We’ll continue sharing our written trip reports and photos from the field, but now they’ll be complimented by short, one-minute video stories that I hope will bring you even closer to the experience. 

You’ll still get the trip reports, because I love writing, but now you’ll also feel the emotion, the sound, and the pulse of the adventures as it happens.

When a Chimp Outsmarted Us!

We were following a chimpanzee through the forest, moving quietly as it walked with purpose. 

For a while, it felt like it was letting us tag along, stopping, listening, glancing back every so often. 

But at some point, everything changed.

The chimp took a turn downhill, leading us onto a trail that grew narrower and narrower until it finally disappeared altogether. 

Before we knew it, we were surrounded by thick and deep mud.

It was thick, sticky, elephant-made sludge that sucked at our boots and made every step an effort.

I swear that chimp did it on purpose. 

There were easier trails all around, but it chose this one, the kind that only a clever ape with a sense of humor would pick. 

I could almost picture it now, perched in a nearby tree, watching the clumsy humans struggle in the muck, probably shaking its head.

The mud, we learned, was created by forest elephants trudging through after heavy rains. 

It reminded me of those old TV shows from childhood where quicksand was always waiting to swallow the hero, except this was real, smelled awful, and didn’t let go easily.

One of our group, Kimberly sank in up to her thighs. When the guides finally managed to pull her free, her boot stayed behind. 

Her daughters howled with laughter as we all tried to help, slipping and sliding in the muddy trail.

By the time we made it out, the chimp was long gone. 

It took a while to track them down again, but we eventually did, a little muddier, a little wiser, and a lot more respectful of just how clever they are.

Sometimes, the wild reminds you who’s really in charge, and every now and then, it even has a sense of humor about it.

The One Rule I Always Break in Wildlife Photography

Brown pelicans off Magdalena Bay, MX.

Every photographer has a list of rules they were taught to follow… the golden ratios, the perfect exposures, the “never shoot into the light” kind of advice.

But here’s the thing…

I break that last one all the time.

Some of my favorite wildlife photos were taken against the light, silhouettes of bears in the sunset, bobcats glowing in golden dust, orca breaking the surface as the last of Norway’s light descends behind the mountains. 

Orcas off Norway. 1/1600, f5.6, ISO 800

Shooting into the light isn’t easy. 

It’s messy. It blows out highlights, hides details, and breaks every clean rule of composition. 

But it also makes the wild feel alive.

And honestly, I struggle most of the time to get it right. 

When you’re shooting backlit subjects, figuring out the best ISO and shutter speed is always a challenge. 

You rarely have much time to adjust. 

Maned Wolf off the Northern Pantanal. 1/640, f14, ISO 800

With wildlife, you don’t plan for backlit images, you get lucky with them.

Maybe you’re sitting in an area where you know elephants will be passing along a well-worn trail, and you get that perfect chance to prepare. 

But most of the time, you don’t get that choice. 

You’re gifted the moment when the animal suddenly turns left instead of right, or when the whale passes on the “wrong” side, and suddenly, the sun is behind them.

That’s when it happens.

Bobcat off Florida. 1/1000, f5.6, ISO 400

The light burns through the edges of their body, wrapping them in fire, color, and shadow. 

It’s beautiful chaos, the kind that tests your instincts and rewards your patience.

Most animals prefer to keep the sun behind them as they move past people, it helps them see us better. 

And when they can see us better, they relax. 

That small bit of awareness gives us something real: a moment of trust, framed in gold.

Polar Bear off Churchill. 1/1000, f5.6 ISO 640

Photography is supposed to make you feel something, and light, real light, isn’t always neat and controlled. 

Sometimes it’s harsh, unpredictable, wild… like the animals themselves.

If you only ever follow the rules, you’ll get good photos, sharp, balanced, technically correct.

But if you’re willing to bend them, that’s where the magic starts. 

Brown Bear family off Katmai, Alaska. 1/1250 f32, ISO 1250

The image might not be perfect, but it will have a heartbeat.

Every time I press the shutter into the light, I’m reminded that photography isn’t about perfection. 

It’s about emotion, the quiet honesty of what it felt like to be there.

So yes, I shoot into the light. I chase it, even. 

Because the wild isn’t meant to be tamed… and neither is the way we capture it.

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Morelet’s crocodile in the Mangroves, Tulum, MX. 1/250, f9, ISO 1600.
No golden light here, underwater backlit photos are different. Instead of warm tones, you get God rays. Streaks of light firing through the water.

A Few Tips for Shooting Into the Light

Shooting backlit wildlife is one of the hardest things to get right, but when it works, it’s magic. 

Here are a few things I’ve learned
(mostly the hard way):

• Watch your exposure, not your instincts.
  Backlight fools your camera’s meter into underexposing. Don’t trust the screen, watch your histogram and move it slightly to the right to preserve shadow detail.

• Use spot metering when you can.
  Expose for the light on the animal’s face or body, not the sky. That’s where the story is.

• Embrace imperfection.
  Backlit shots rarely look clean, and that’s the point. Let the light spill, let the edges glow, let the wild be wild.

The Sound of Letting Go... My Last Season with Gloria.

This one’s a tough one to write.

For ten years, my camera, Gloria, has been with me through everything.

Rain, salt, sand, freezing winds, murky waters, she’s been there for it all. 

Dependable. Solid. The kind of companion you trust when everything else around you is chaos.

Every image I’ve shared over the past decade, every whale, shark, snake, and orca, came through her eyes. 

We’ve been everywhere together, and back again.

So even saying this out loud feels strange… but lately, I’ve been thinking about finally making the switch.

From my faithful DSLR to a mirrorless system.

And not for the reasons people might assume.

Sure, mirrorless cameras are sharper, faster, lighter. 

They handle low light beautifully and focus like magic. It’s a better system in almost every measurable way. 

But that’s not what’s drawing me in.

For me, it’s about silence.

When I step into the ocean, in rivers, in the Arctic, I’m stepping into another world. 

A world that existed long before me and doesn’t need my noise in it. 

My presence already changed behavior. Fish move differently. Dolphins will sometimes swim away.

I can’t control that.

But the one thing I can control… is the sound I bring.

Every click of Gloria’s shutter feels like a small echo through their world. 

A reminder that I’m still an intruder. 

I don’t belong.

Over time, I’ve started to feel that echo more deeply, like the wild is asking me to listen, not interrupt.

That’s where mirrorless calls to me.

Not because it’s the future of photography, but because it’s the future of how I want to photograph. 

Silently. 

It’s strange how your relationship with your craft evolves. 

When you’re young in it, you chase the moments, you want the perfect shot, the perfect composition, the proof that you were there.

But as time passes. You stop chasing, and start protecting.

You realize the most powerful images come when the wild forgets you’re even there.

Switching to mirrorless isn’t about upgrading my gear. 

It’s about lowering my impact.

It’s about aligning the technology with the respect I’ve learned to carry for the wildlife I photograph.

Still… this isn’t easy. 

Gloria has been more than just a tool. She’s been my voice when I had no words, my constant when everything else changed. 

She’s been the silent witness to so much beauty, heartbreak, and wonder.

But maybe this is how every great partnership ends, not with replacement, but with gratitude.

The wild deserves our silence.

And maybe this will be my way of giving it that.

For now, I’ll finish the 2025 season with Gloria by my side.

I have four more trips this year.

That is four more chances to tell our story together before the next chapter begins.

And when 2026 comes, maybe, just maybe, I’ll take that silent leap…If I can let her go.

A Day in the Life of a Wildlife Guide and Photographer… Why This Name Finally Feels Right.

Over the years, I’ve named and renamed this blog more times than I can count.

Each time, I was trying to capture what we do, the energy of the work, the magic of the wildlife, the grit of the journey. But nothing ever quite felt right. It just didn’t fully reflect who I am or what this life is actually like.

Until now.

I’ve finally landed on a name that feels good:
A Day in the Life of a Wildlife Guide and Photographer.

It fits, because that's truly what this blog and my YouTube channel have become, a window into what we do out there.

Not just the epic moments with polar bears, orcas on the hunt, or dancing with sharks... but the full reality of our days in the field.

The early mornings.
The gear failures.
The missed sightings.
The quiet days where the ocean feels empty.
The magic we chase anyway.

If you’ve watched my YouTube videos, you already know they’re far from polished.

They’re raw, in-the-moment, and definitely flawed, but I love them that way. They’re honest.

They share the heart and soul of what we experience out there.

Until now, I’ve mostly shared highlights, those big, cinematic moments when nature delivers something unforgettable. And don’t get me wrong, I’ll keep sharing those.

But I’ve been thinking…

Maybe it’s time to start sharing the lows, as well.

The days when nothing shows up.
The long waits.
The breakdowns.
The hours of effort that go into those brief flashes of beauty.

It might bore some people.

But some might find it refreshing. Real. Even inspiring.

Because that’s what these trips are actually like.

Wild places don’t follow scripts. And neither do we.

So, this name, “A Day in the Life of a Wildlife Guide and Photographer” is more than just a title. It’s a direction. For this blog. For our channel. For how I want to tell these stories.

Thanks for being here, and for following along on this wild ride.

Let’s see what tomorrow brings.

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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.

Why Choose Natural Light for Underwater Photography?

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Wildlife photographer Jean Dubois, shooting using natural light… Crocodile Diving off Banco Chinchorro, MX. 1/320, f8, ISO 500

When it comes to underwater photography, strobes are often the go-to choice for professionals. They bring out vibrant colors and allow for incredible detail in any lighting condition. However, there’s another side to underwater photography that’s often overlooked but equally exciting… Natural Light Photography.

This approach leverages ambient light from the sun to create images with a more organic and authentic feel. It’s less intrusive to wildlife, offers greater freedom of movement, and provides a unique challenge that pushes your skills as a photographer.

Black Manta Ray off Socorro Island, Mexico. 1/320, f8, ISO 1000

Let’s dive into why natural light photography is worth exploring.

One of the biggest advantages of natural light photography is the freedom it gives you underwater. Without strobes and bulky strobe arms attached to your camera rig, you’re far more streamlined. This makes swimming easier, especially when free diving or dealing with strong currents.

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Great Hammerheads off Bimini Bahamas. 1/320, f8, ISO 320

More importantly, it allows you to move fluidly and follow wildlife with minimal disruption.

Animals are often spooked by flashing lights, but with natural light, you can get closer and stay longer, building trust and capturing more intimate moments.

Natural light photography is less intrusive, which can be a game-changer when photographing sensitive marine animals like sharks, whales, and dolphins. Without the startling pop of a strobe, they are more likely to stay calm and tolerate your presence.

Some of my favorite moments underwater have been with animals mere inches from my dome port, calmly going about their lives. It’s these moments that make natural light photography so rewarding—it’s not just about capturing a shot but trying to experience a genuine connection with the wildlife.

Right Whale off Patagonia, photographed under permit. 1/320, f9, ISO 800

Of course, natural light photography comes with its challenges. The underwater environment absorbs light and color at different depths:

• Red disappears around 15 feet.

• Orange fades by 30 feet.

• Yellow is gone by 60 feet.

• Greens fade by 100 feet, leaving mostly blues.

This means your ability to capture vibrant images depends heavily on factors like depth, water clarity, and time of day. Cloudy skies or low light conditions can make it even more difficult, requiring careful adjustments to your camera settings.

Great White Shark off Guadalupe Island, MX. 1/320, f8, ISO 400.

Despite the challenges, natural light photography is incredibly rewarding.

It forces you to think creatively, adapt to your environment, and work within the constraints of the available light. But, when you nail the exposure, composition, and timing, the results are nothing short of magical.

To me, natural light images have a raw, authentic feel that strobes can’t replicate. They reflect the beauty of the underwater world as it truly is—dynamic, ever-changing, and awe-inspiring.

Sailfish off Magdalena Island, MX. 1/640, f8, ISO 1600

Is Natural Light Photography for You?

Shooting with natural light allows you the opportunity to connect with wildlife on a deeper level. It’s not just a technique; it’s an experience that pushes you to grow as a photographer and a storyteller.

Stay tuned for the next blog in this series, where I’ll dive into the euphotic zone… the key to understanding how sunlight interacts with the underwater world and how to use it to your advantage.

THIS IS PART 1 OF A 10 PART SERIES.

PART ONE - Is Natural Light Photography Photography For You?
PART TWO - The Euphotic Zone! Your best friend.
PART THREE - Custom White Balance, Natural Lights Secret Weapon.
PART FOUR - Shutter Speed: Freezing Moments Underwater.
PART FIVE - Aperture: Achieving Sharpness and Depth Underwater
PART SIX - ISO: Balancing Light Sensitivity Underwater
PART SEVEN - Focus Points: Keeping Your Subject Sharp Underwater
PART EIGHT - The Histogram: Your Underwater Photography Lifeline
PART NINE - Post-Processing: Bringing Your Underwater Images to Life.
PART TEN - The Freedom of Natural Light Photography: A Connection to the Wild