Whether it’s while I’m teaching an underwater photography class, on a dive boat or on a trip, I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve heard “It must be so cool to be an underwater photographer." And I always think “Indeed, it is cool," but that kind of cool doesn’t come without a lot of hard work and sacrifice.

Photography is all I’ve ever done. It got me through high school, when a photography teacher took me under his wing after the other teachers had lost faith; it got me to (and subsequently through) the U.S. Navy, where I hung from helicopters to capture arial images of aircraft carriers; it got me safely to adulthood and allowed me to own my own business for several years. And now it’s gotten me to this point in my life, where my loves of diving and photography have managed to play nicely together.

With the availability of gear, ease of travel and technology nowadays, being an underwater photographer really is like being the proverbial “little fish in a big pond." With the amazing pool of talent in this business, it’s not always easy to separate yourself from others in the field, but finding that separation is key. When would-be photographers ask me for advice, I tell them that being an underwater photographer can be a very expensive job and can take several years to be successful — nothing here comes cheaply or quickly. I also advise that they think about what “success” means to them. As with any plan, having unrealistic expectations can be devastating to the outcome, so attainable goals are imperative.

In my opinion, the positives of my career choice far outweigh the negatives.

My love of diving has never wavered, even after all of these years. I still get excited every time I get in the water, and know when I get out, I will excitedly start at least one sentence with “Did you see...??” I still feel that rush when I think I’ve taken a great shot because I never know for sure until I’m out of the water. I’ve met some amazing people and seen some amazing things. I know that through my images, I’m sharing the underwater world with divers and non-divers alike, which in turn brings a lot of attention to our world’s most precious resource. Both the compliments and criticisms my work receives drive me to be better every day, always keeping up on the latest gear, the latest techniques, and always reminding myself there is more to learn.

I’ve been lucky to meet people who think my work is good enough to publish, people who have enjoyed it enough to purchase it, and others who think it’s good enough to choose me to teach them to do the same. The financial sacrifices, time away from my family and potential danger involved have made this life I’ve chosen tough at times, but I can’t imagine ever being happier doing anything else.

Not many of us will make it to the level of Mr. Cousteau, Mr. Waterman or Mr. Frink, but it’s because of the incredible work they’ve done before us that inspires us all to keep trying.