When I arrived on the Utila Aggressor II, I had little idea of how unforgettable this trip would be. Winning third place in the 2010 Ocean Art Photo Contest had earned me a coveted spot aboard this world-class liveaboard. From the very beginning, it was clear that this was no ordinary diving trip. As soon as guests landed at Utila Airport—whether from San Pedro Sula or Roatan—they were welcomed by the friendly crew, always ready with smiles and helping hands. Once aboard, we were invited to settle into our elegant cabins and familiarize ourselves with the layout of the ship. Each diver had access to personal lockers to store their gear. A gourmet dinner followed, expertly prepared and served with finesse. That evening, the cruise director gave a thorough safety briefing and walked us through the schedule of the week ahead. Spirits were high, and everyone looked forward to the diving adventure to come. We toasted our first night with champagne before heading into the vibrant streets of Utila to enjoy the welcoming local nightlife.
Diving Begins Around Utila
Our first morning aboard the Utila Aggressor II began with the kind of breakfast that sets the tone for a great day. The kitchen crew had already earned admiration from guests. Once we were energized, the diving began. The water temperature hovered around 83°F, and visibility ranged between 90 and 120 feet. The calm, crystal-clear Caribbean welcomed us with open arms. I descended into a world teeming with life. A giant hermit crab scuttled over the sand while colorful flamingo tongue snails clung to sea fans. I noticed a juvenile spotted drum fish swaying gently in the current and a smooth trunkfish drifting across the reef. With my Nikon D300 in hand, I captured images using a 60mm macro lens, adjusting settings manually to suit the conditions. Underwater life popped with vibrancy under my strobe lights. Guests could enjoy up to five dives each day, only pausing for delicious meals or a short nap. Night dives were a staple, scheduled after dinner for those with energy to spare. Each evening offered a new glimpse of nocturnal marine life. Reef squid hovered near the surface, their bodies glowing in bioluminescence. I locked focus on one of them, using f/13, 1/125 shutter speed, ISO 200 to capture the delicate details of its body structure.
A Photographer’s Playground
The dive conditions were ideal for both macro and wide-angle shots. Flamingo tongue snails adorned coral branches in patterns that seemed designed by an artist. I was struck by their elegance and color, so I adjusted my camera settings—f/25, 1/125, ISO 200—to capture the minute ridges of their shells. Nearby, an arrow crab peeked out from its hiding spot, legs reaching like thin wires. This creature posed still long enough for me to shoot with f/9, 1/250, ISO 200. Utila provided a multitude of photo opportunities with subjects ranging from the small and intricate to the grand and dramatic. It wasn’t just about photography, though. These dives reminded us how fragile and beautiful the underwater ecosystem is. Seeing the marine environment through my viewfinder allowed me to connect on a deeper level, appreciating every detail of the coral and sea life.
Cruising Toward Roatan
As the sun crept over the horizon, painting the sky with oranges and purples, the Utila Aggressor II set a course for Roatan. The trip between these two islands was smooth, giving us time to rest and review our images. Roatan brought a different diving experience—more walls, bigger marine life, and new seascapes to explore. We descended into blue water and immediately encountered massive groupers, graceful hawksbill turtles, and swift eagle rays. The reefs sparkled with cleaner shrimp, starfish, lobsters, seahorses, and reef squid. Unfortunately, lionfish were abundant, their invasion a reminder of how human influence alters ecosystems. One of the highlights was diving at the site known as "El Aguila"—a sunken freighter scuttled in 1997. Resting in 110 feet of water, the wreck teemed with life. Nassau groupers, fat and lazy from the abundance, hovered around as if they owned the ship. I adjusted my settings—using a Tokina 10-17mm fisheye lens, f/11, 1/100, ISO 200—to get full shots of these large creatures against the backdrop of steel.
Dancing with Dolphins and Sharks
If diving with groupers and turtles was a thrill, nothing prepared me for what came next. Dolphins appeared from the deep, curious and playful. One swam toward me, eyes wide, seemingly aware of the camera. I snapped the shot at f/10, 1/100, ISO 200. To witness such intelligence up close was awe-inspiring. Later, reef sharks circled below, their sleek bodies cutting through the blue. There was no fear, only respect. I dialed my settings—f/8, 1/100, ISO 200—and captured one gliding effortlessly. Every diver on board agreed: this was the type of encounter that stays with you long after you leave the water.
Exploring Coco's Sea Mounts
Next, the Utila Aggressor II journeyed to Coco’s Sea Mounts, a dive site less traveled due to its remote location. Rising from depths of hundreds of feet to just 40 feet below the surface, these underwater mountains were surreal. Because they’re far from shore, fishing pressure is low, and marine life flourishes. Lionfish, while invasive, were common here too, but the efforts of local dive guides to spear and reduce their numbers were commendable. Andy, our onboard chef, surprised everyone with lionfish ceviche—a delicious twist to conservation efforts. At these sea mounts, the water was filled with jacks, turtles, and rays. The dramatic drop-offs and vertical walls provided a perfect opportunity for wide-angle photography. Using my D300 set to f/16, 1/250, ISO 200, I managed to capture both the vibrant reef and the silhouettes of pelagic species above.
Final Dives at Cannery Bank
The last leg of our trip brought us to Cannery Bank near Utila. These final dives were more relaxed, a chance to enjoy the underwater world one last time before packing our gear. I focused less on photography and more on soaking in the moment. At the end of the day, we rinsed and stored our equipment, reviewed photos, and prepared for a night out in Utila. I still remember the laughter, the ocean breeze, and the sense of camaraderie that formed among everyone aboard.
A Crew That Made the Journey Unforgettable
Our trip wouldn’t have been the same without the exceptional crew of the Utila Aggressor II. Captain Troy Bodden brought years of experience and a warm personality. His stories were as deep as the waters we explored. Our chef, Anders Svensson, cooked with the creativity of a gourmet artist. Each meal was crafted with care and served with a personal touch. Dive masters Pete, Saby, and Juju were knowledgeable, entertaining, and passionate about marine conservation. They introduced us to secret dive sites and shared tips that helped me improve my underwater photography significantly.
Capturing the Moment: Behind the Lens
Taking photos underwater presents unique challenges. For most of my shots, I used full manual mode. I adjusted shutter speed and aperture based on the available light and subject movement. My strobe lights were also used manually to control how the light fell on the subject. Unlike others who rely on burst mode, I prefer to wait for the perfect moment and take a single shot. It requires patience but often results in a more deliberate, composed image. One of my favorite photographs from this trip was of a Caribbean reef squid. Its texture and translucence were highlighted perfectly by the soft artificial light. Moments like these make the effort worthwhile.
Reflections from a Photographer
This trip allowed me to combine two passions—diving and photography—in one extraordinary experience. Every dive brought a new scene, a new challenge, and a new reward. The Bay Islands of Honduras are a treasure for any diver, and the Utila Aggressor II offers the ideal platform to explore them. The professionalism of the crew, the pristine condition of the dive sites, and the richness of marine biodiversity all contributed to an unforgettable adventure. I left Honduras with memory cards full of images and a heart full of gratitude.
Into the Deep: The Rhythm of a Liveaboard Dive Expedition
Waking with the Ocean
Each day aboard the Utila Aggressor II began before the sun crested the horizon. The gentle rumble of the engine, the scent of fresh coffee drifting from the galley, and the faint rocking of the boat became my natural alarm clock. Mornings on a liveaboard are unique. There’s a peaceful excitement in the air—divers whispering greetings, the clatter of breakfast plates, the quick shuffle of fins and wetsuits being prepared. The ocean was always waiting, calm and endless, inviting us to discover what lay beneath its surface.
My first task each morning, after a few sips of strong coffee, was to inspect and prepare my gear. I double-checked my camera rig, verified strobe batteries, cleaned lenses, and reloaded memory cards. A small oversight can mean the difference between a perfect photo and a missed opportunity. I treated my gear with the same respect I gave the sea. After a final glance at my exposure settings, I stepped onto the dive platform, my mind quieting as I slipped into the water.
Drift Dives and Discovery
The drift dives around Roatan were magical. With the current guiding us gently, we floated past coral gardens teeming with life. Giant barrel sponges stood like sculptures, while sea fans swayed with the rhythm of the ocean. I maintained neutral buoyancy and stayed parallel to the reef, scanning for scenes worth capturing. The composition underwater is often dictated by movement and light. I sought moments where the sun’s rays pierced the water column, casting golden beams across the coral below. On one dive, I encountered a hawksbill turtle emerging from a coral ledge. I had seconds to approach carefully, frame my shot, and adjust my settings—f/10, 1/125, ISO 200. The turtle swam slowly, giving me the perfect silhouette against the backdrop of glowing blue water.
Nearby, a green moray eel peeked from a crevice, its mouth opening and closing rhythmically. Cleaner shrimp danced on its body, undeterred by its size. These small symbiotic relationships fascinated me. Through my lens, I captured this moment, carefully balancing light and shadow to emphasize the eel’s textured skin and the shrimp’s delicate forms.
Midday Breaks and Afternoon Immersion
Between morning and afternoon dives, we returned to the boat for meals that could rival any gourmet restaurant. Anders, our chef, never repeated a dish and had an uncanny ability to anticipate our cravings. From grilled fish with citrus salsa to creamy pasta and tropical fruit platters, every meal felt like an event. After lunch, I usually transfer images to my laptop and back them up on a second drive. Reviewing shots from the morning was a ritual. I evaluated lighting, focus, and composition, and made mental notes for the next dives. Often, I would discuss techniques with fellow divers. There’s a camaraderie among underwater photographers—an unspoken understanding of the challenges we face in capturing fleeting underwater moments.
The afternoon dives often revealed different marine behavior. The lighting changed, the shadows deepened, and the reef’s mood evolved. Fish that were hidden in the morning now roamed freely. I swam alongside schools of blue tang and creole wrasse, their bodies catching the light like confetti in water. I chased the glimmer of parrotfish scraping algae from coral and watched as a barracuda glided effortlessly past, its silver scales reflecting my strobe light.
The Beauty of Night Diving
As darkness fell, the ocean transformed again. Night dives are an entirely different world. The reef came alive with nocturnal hunters and hidden wonders. I equipped my camera with focus lights, checked my strobes, and descended into darkness guided only by my torch. The first thing I noticed was the silence. Even the ocean seemed to breathe more slowly. My beam illuminated brittle stars crawling over sponges, crabs climbing corals, and octopuses changing color as they glided across the sand. I spotted a sleeping parrotfish cocooned in its mucous bubble, an ingenious adaptation to deter predators. I took a few careful shots, using a slow shutter speed and low strobe intensity to avoid startling it. One of the most enchanting moments occurred during a night dive at Cannery Bank. As I hovered motionless, I noticed bioluminescent plankton surrounding me. Every movement of my hand created a trail of glowing specks. I turned off my torch and allowed myself to float in this silent galaxy, marveling at nature’s simplest light show.
A Close Encounter with a Reef Shark
It was on the fourth day, during a deep wall dive off Roatan, that I had a close encounter I’ll never forget. We were descending along a sheer coral wall when a Caribbean reef shark emerged from the blue. It was majestic—silent, fast, and unbothered by our presence. I slowly adjusted my strobe angle to minimize backscatter and positioned myself to shoot upward, hoping to silhouette the shark against the sunlit surface. With my heart pounding, I clicked the shutter at f/8, 1/100, ISO 200. The shark circled once more before fading back into the depths. That single image became one of my favorites—a reminder of why we dive.
Photographing Behavior Over Beauty
While it’s tempting to focus on bright colors and perfect poses, I often prefer capturing marine behavior. Whether it’s a jawfish peeking from its hole with eggs in its mouth or a pair of shrimp cleaning a wrasse, these behaviors tell a story. For these moments, patience is key. I would find a spot, reduce my movement, and wait. On one dive near Utila, I spent over 20 minutes observing a pair of mating squid. They moved in perfect synchrony, changing colors and positions. Using a slow approach and minimal flash, I recorded a sequence of their delicate dance. The resulting photos captured not just their forms, but their ritual.
Wide-Angle Challenges and Triumphs
Shooting wide-angle underwater photography presents its own set of challenges. First is the lighting. The ocean filters red and yellow light quickly, leaving scenes with a blue cast. I balanced ambient light with artificial light using dual strobes positioned at a wide angle. I also used diffusers to soften the shadows. Next came composition. With a fisheye lens, getting close is essential, or else the subject appears small and distant. I often approached large coral heads or sponge formations with a diver in the background to add scale. I remember one dive where I captured a diver ascending alongside a massive gorgonian fan. The contrast between human and coral scale made the image powerful. I used f/11, 1/125, ISO 250 with a Tokina 10-17mm lens to capture the full depth of field and preserve color.
The Importance of Buoyancy and Control
Good underwater photos begin with good diving skills. Buoyancy control is the most critical. Without it, you risk damaging fragile reefs or stirring up sediment. Throughout the trip, I practiced hovering inches above the reef, adjusting my breath to ascend or descend. When photographing macro subjects, stability was essential. I used finger rests on the dead rock or held onto my camera housing like a tripod. Good control also meant being ready for the unexpected. At one point, I turned a corner and found a giant porcupinefish staring back at me. It hovered calmly, allowing me to shoot a perfect portrait. These chance encounters reward divers who are both prepared and respectful of the underwater world.
Camaraderie on the Liveaboard
Aside from the diving itself, one of the most memorable aspects of the Utila Aggressor II was the sense of community. Living together on a boat for a week fosters bonds that rarely form elsewhere. We celebrated dive milestones, exchanged gear tips, reviewed photos, and shared personal stories under the stars. Some guests were seasoned divers with thousands of logged hours, while others were on their first liveaboard. Everyone contributed something—knowledge, humor, support. Evenings often ended with slide shows, photo critiques, or discussions about marine conservation. The crew, too, became part of this circle. They were not just staff, but teachers, guides, and friends. Whether it was Troy telling tales of old shipwrecks or Juju helping troubleshoot a flooded housing, their presence enriched the experience.
A Story Behind Every Shot
As the trip progressed, I realized that each photo I took had its own story. Behind every frame were the details—the setting, the preparation, the emotion. A lionfish floating between two sea fans wasn’t just a picture of a fish; it was a reminder of invasive species, of adaptation, of survival. A coral polyp extending under a strobe light reminded me of life’s intricate design. Even failed shots taught lessons. A poorly lit squid taught me to adjust my flash position. A blurred grouper taught me to reduce shutter lag. Every dive was a classroom, every photo a page in my underwater journal.
Conservation and Responsibility
Spending time in such a pristine ecosystem brings a deep appreciation for marine conservation. We witnessed firsthand the damage lionfish can do to native species. We also saw the efforts being made to control their numbers. One evening, the dive masters showed us how to spear lionfish responsibly. Later, we tasted lionfish ceviche, realizing that conservation can sometimes be delicious too. There’s also the responsibility of being a photographer. Flash usage, diver interaction, and coral awareness all matter. It’s easy to get the shot at the expense of the reef. I made it my rule never to touch or harass marine life. The best photos come from patience and respect.
Looking Ahead
As the boat returned to port and we began to pack, I felt a familiar mix of sadness and gratitude. This journey had given me so much—new friends, incredible images, and memories that will last a lifetime. I reviewed my folders one last time, smiling at the thumbnails. Each one was a portal to a moment that now lived forever. Diving the Bay Islands of Honduras was more than a photography trip. It was a spiritual experience, a deep connection to a world that so few truly see. And for me, the journey was just beginning.
Revisiting Iconic Dive Sites
As our journey continued, we returned to some of the Bay Islands’ most iconic dive sites. One of my favorites was Black Hills, an underwater seamount off Utila known for its schooling jacks and resident barracudas. Descending along the mooring line, I immediately noticed the sheer abundance of life—schools of creole wrasse circled me, while a solitary eagle ray passed gracefully in the distance. I positioned myself at the base of a coral outcrop, set my lens wide, and waited. In moments like these, patience often rewards you with the perfect alignment of light, motion, and subject.
Photographing in Changing Conditions
Later in the week, weather conditions shifted slightly. A passing squall brought rougher surface currents and darker skies. While many see this as a challenge, I welcomed the variation. Lower light meant softer shadows, moodier tones, and a more dramatic atmosphere. I switched to higher ISO settings and used slower shutter speeds to capture movement and emotion in the water. One of my most memorable images came from these dives: a lone turtle ascending toward a rippled, storm-lit surface—f/7.1, 1/80, ISO 400. The textures were surreal.
Final Moments in the Blue
As our final day of diving approached, I found myself slowing down—not just in movement but in intention. I stopped chasing subjects and instead observed. A juvenile angelfish darted among coral branches. A cleaning station buzzed with activity. I wasn’t looking for the best shot anymore. I was simply present. In those quiet moments, camera in hand, floating between silence and salt, I understood what this journey truly meant. It wasn’t just about the photographs. It was about immersion—in water, in nature, and something far deeper within myself.
Telling Stories Through Light
Underwater photography is more than just capturing marine life—it’s about storytelling. Light becomes language. A shaft of sunlight breaking through the surface can reveal emotion. The shadow of a reef shark drifting beneath a diver can suggest scale, power, or calm. Each time I adjusted my aperture or dialed my strobe angle, I wasn’t just modifying exposure—I was shaping a narrative. Some of my favorite photographs weren’t the sharpest or most vibrant, but they carried feeling. A slightly underexposed shot of a grouper in silhouette became a quiet moment of mystery. A frame with imperfect focus captured the kinetic energy of feeding jacks. These weren’t just animals—they were characters in an unfolding play set beneath the waves.
Learning from the Sea
Every dive offered a lesson. The ocean is a living classroom—never static, never predictable. I learned to read currents, to anticipate behavior, to sense when a creature was about to turn or emerge. I learned restraint. There were times I held back from taking the shot so as not to disturb a delicate moment. There were times I failed. I once misjudged the behavior of a shy yellowhead jawfish and missed its brief display. But even that taught me patience. The sea rewards awareness, not haste. It punishes carelessness and rewards stillness.
The Human Connection
Though we came for the marine life, it was the people who shaped the experience. The camaraderie among divers, the support from the crew, and the quiet nods shared after a good dive—these were the human touches that added richness to the trip. I’ll never forget our dive briefings filled with laughter, or the nights spent on the deck swapping stories under the stars. Friendships formed in saltwater run deep. Everyone aboard the Utila Aggressor II brought something unique—an observation, a tip, a story—and in return, we all took something intangible home with us.
The Role of Gear and Practice
While gear doesn’t make the photographer, it certainly matters underwater. My Nikon D300 housed in a Sea & Sea system performed reliably throughout the week. The Tokina 10-17mm fisheye lens was my go-to for wide-angle shots, offering versatility and sharp results. I paired it with dual Sea & Sea YS-D3 strobes, which delivered powerful and consistent light. But beyond the specs, it was about knowing how to use the tools. I spent hours practicing strobe positioning, buoyancy, and manual exposure control before ever setting foot on this trip. It paid off. Reliable equipment and familiarity with my setup meant I could focus on creativity instead of troubleshooting underwater.
Capturing Ephemeral Beauty
There is a unique pressure in underwater photography—the subjects are constantly moving, the light is never stable, and you are limited by time, depth, and air. But that’s what makes each shot meaningful. Every photograph taken underwater is a fleeting moment, never to be replicated. A school of grunts swimming in unison may scatter the next second. A barracuda may vanish before your lens is ready. The underwater world is filled with ephemeral beauty, and the joy lies in capturing it, however briefly. Even failed images carry value—they are reminders of presence, effort, and immersion.
A Journey Within
Diving the Bay Islands was more than just a professional assignment or prize trip. It was a journey inward. The ocean reflects a diver’s emotions. Some days I was filled with energy and anticipation. Others, I was quieter, more contemplative. But always, the water responded. It grounded me. It challenged me to look closer, to listen better, to slow down. I left the Bay Islands not just with hard drives full of images but with a deeper understanding of myself as a photographer, a diver, and a storyteller.
Conclusion:
My time aboard the Utila Aggressor II reminded me that the greatest treasures lie beneath the surface—not just in the sea, but in the way we experience it. The coral reefs, the sea mounts, the sharks, the squids—they were all extraordinary, but it was the act of being present, of watching, of waiting, of learning, that left the most lasting impression. Underwater photography is not only a visual craft—it’s a discipline of attention. It teaches humility. It demands patience. And it offers beauty in return.
As the boat docked on the final day, I stood on deck watching the sea fade into the horizon. I knew I had captured many photographs—but more than that, I had lived something rare. In those silent blue hours, floating weightless between light and shadow, I found the quiet that only the ocean can give.