I know, I know… it was only a month ago that I published the first “volume” of this series. But once I got going on sorting images, it became a trip down memory lane and I couldn’t stop. Plus, it seemed to be a popular post and I want to give readers what they like here on Swimpruf. I’m also working on a longer story for another publication and, if I’m honest, a photo essay is a nice break from words, words, words this week.

So here it goes, another selection of images from past adventures. This one leans heavily on the underwater variety, but that’s where I found myself with a camera for much of the past couple decades.

Swiss Alps, May, 2014

For a couple of years, the now defunct (dormant?) Swiss watch company, Jean Richard, was the sponsor of a very niche and storied competition: the Patrouilles des Glaciers. Inspired by the Alpine skiing troops of yore, this race pitted teams of athletes in a ski mountaineering race from the town of Zermatt across the mountains to finish in Verbier. It departed at night, and the fastest competitors finished the next morning. I had been invited to follow the race, partly by helicopter. I even had the brief notion of competing in it one day, until I witnessed how grueling and technical the skiing was. The bright sun, pristine snow, and colorful athletes made for a photographer’s dream. I shot this image out the side of an Air Zermatt chopper as one team labored uphill within view of the Matterhorn. Our pilot flew close to the iconic peak shortly after this photo was taken.

Florida Keys, 2014

In 2014, Fabien Cousteau, grandson of, well, Neptune himself, undertook a record setting endeavor to live underwater, inside the Aquarius research habitat, on the seafloor off the Florida coast. The Doxa watch company was a sponsor and I was invited to dive down to the habitat to visit Cousteau and spend some time inside Aquarius. After exiting the habitat to return to the surface support boat, I got to swim around and take some photos. In this one, fellow diver, Ty Alley peers inside at Cousteau.

(Above) Ambri, Switzerland, 2015

Emblematic of the headier days of Swiss watch industry marketing and big budgets, Oris used to sponsor a jet team. Unlike Breitling, whose own jet team was made up of sleek, branded L-39C jet trainers, the Oris team consisted of a group of scruffy decommissioned Cold War fighter jets and aerobatic planes. I was lucky enough to ride shotgun in a 1980s Hawker Hunter, a British-made fighter jet, with a former Swiss Air Force pilot. We took off from Ambri airfield in a valley in southern Switzerland, and flew over the Alps on a beautiful sunny day, at one point reaching 0.8 Mach (around 625 mph). I only had my iPhone with me, and it was hard to hold up sometimes due to the G-forces during various maneuvers. This selfie was taken while flying inverted during an overhead roll. I recall the pilot, before takeoff, telling me coolly, “If I say ‘eject, eject, eject,’ pull that handle. Don’t ask me to repeat myself because you’ll be talking to an empty seat.” No, I didn’t pass out or vomit.

Bonaire, 2022

Shot on 35mm film with my Nikonos V, this photo of my former wife was taken during a snorkel off the back of our rented apartment. There isn’t much of a backstory to this one other than the feeling it evokes. There’s nothing quite like slipping buoyantly into the warm sea at sunset.

Square Lake, Minnesota, 2022

I’ve done my share of ice diving in the past, always in unremarkable places like this shallow, murky lake in suburban St. Paul. Why? Because it’s possibly the most exotic, dangerous, and niche activity I’ve done, and to do it so close to home brings me a smug satisfaction. With ice diving, the interesting stuff is above not below. The way the exhaled bubbles dance on the underside of the ice sheet is otherworldly, swimming beneath parked vehicles on the ice above a little disconcerting, and the sensation of descending through two feet of solid ice into a liquid world defies any common sense. Every time I do it I say it’ll be my last, and then I go back again. This photo was shot the one year I dove with my full camera rig, which proved to be cumbersome and unwieldy while also keeping track of dive partners and trying not to get tangled in the rope tether.

Channel Islands, Pacific Ocean, 2025

This one is a contender for the best photo I’ve ever taken, by my own estimation. As I’ve written about before, I joined an expedition to California’s Channel Islands to be a photographer accompanying a group of science divers surveying the reefs and kelp beds. One goal was to get images of the chief sponsor’s product (a Blancpain wristwatch) in the same frame as some charismatic critters. It’s not an easy task, which is what made this photo so satisfying. The watch is in focus, the sponsor name on Geoff’s wetsuit is visible, and the sea lion’s pose is a perfect counterpoint to the diver’s—a mutual curiosity. I also love the background of sunlight filtering down through the kelp. If I never shoot another photo, I can be happy I got this one.

Several months ago, I solicited ideas for Swimpruf from readers, and one of them was to post photos I’d taken over the years and provide a little background about them. I’m first and foremost a writer, and have spent most of my freelance career in front of the camera, often as a professional underwater wrist model. But on occasion I’ve picked up a camera myself when I’ve done work trips without a dedicated photographer, or on adventures of my own. I do enjoy photography, both film and digital varieties. I wouldn’t say I’m a natural photographer, and I certainly lack the patience and attention to detail to take macro or product (i.e., wristwatch) pictures. But I like exercising the different muscles, so to speak, that come with composing an image and exposing it properly.

Abiding by the “picture is worth a thousand words,” adage, instead of writing more preamble here, I’ll cut to the chase and present the photos with some context about where they were taken. As my title suggests, this is “volume 1,” implying future photo essays. I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you think.

Mount Rainier, Washington, 2013

I shot this picture on the descent from the summit of Mount Rainier at an elevation of around 12,000 feet. It was a calm, sunny afternoon after a two-day climb. The climbers below me were part of my summit team. I remember my thighs were rubbery with fatigue and I had incurred the worst sunburn I’ve ever had on the unprotected undersides of my forearms the previous day when ascending with sleeves rolled up. The snow reflected the less filtered intense sun. I love how blue the sky is at altitude, and how you can make out other peaks in the distance. I believe the one at top right is Mount Hood in Oregon.

Iceland, 2014

This is one of my favorite photos. I shot it on Ilford XP black-and-white film on a Nikon F3 while riding in a Land Rover. I am still astonished at how clearly it turned out, since it was taken through a windscreen while bouncing across a rocky riverbed. This was on a press trip with the German watch company, A. Lange & Söhne, and on our last day before returning to Reykjavik to fly home, we were treated to a Defender offroad excursion. It’s no exaggeration to say that this moment sealed my love of Land Rovers and inspired me to seek one of my own. Later, back home, I enlarged the negative of this photo as part of a photo processing class and printed and framed it. It hangs in my bedroom.

St. Maarten, 2014

Photography is difficult enough to do well. Underwater photography even more so. Shooting film underwater only adds to the challenge. This image was taken on a 1980s Nikonos V without a strobe. It was during a week of diving off the Dutch side of the Caribbean island, St. Maarten. Gray reef sharks followed our group for most of this dive and were willing photo subjects. The Nikonos is a rugged camera, used for decades for countless iconic underwater images, but it does have a considerable learning curve. Since it’s not an SLR, composition of the image is somewhat of a guess and aperture and focus are set using knobs on the sides of the lens. I’d like to say this photo was the result of my skill but honestly, it was as much luck as anything.

San Francisco Bay, 2014

I’m starting to realize that 2014 was a pretty adventurous year for me. Besides Iceland, some mountain excursions, and diving, I also jumped halyards on a sailboat in the legendary Rolex Big Boat Series, a series of regattas held in San Francisco Bay. That year was the 50th edition of the competition. The boat I crewed on didn’t fare so well (we almost capsized and I was thrown into the water at one point) but it was an unforgettable experience and challenge. After my racing was done, I jumped on a press boat to photograph some of the bigger yacht classes. Sailing is such a photogenic sport, with all the color and action, and sky and water. I love the dynamism in this image, and I still marvel at how that many big boats can maneuver together in such a tight space without colliding.

Bugaboo Range, British Columbia, 2013

2013 was my “mountain year.” I summited Rainier, hiked hut to hut in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, and traveled to the Canadian Rockies for some via ferrata climbing and helicopter supported hikes in the Bugaboo Range. Heli-hiking is the summer equivalent of heli-skiing. I was on a press trip sponsored by Canadian Mountain Holidays, and our small group of journalists stayed in a gorgeous remote lodge that was only accessible by—you guessed it—helicopter. Daily we were ferried deep into the mountains and on to glaciers and dropped with a guide for hours-long hikes. The guides in the different groups communicated by radio, warning of grizzly bear sightings, and calling in the chopper (I love being able to write that) for pickups. I shot this picture as our ride was landing, in front of the imposing Howser Towers. Few things say “adventure,” like a helicopter.

Milford Sound, New Zealand, 2014

In 2014, I was invited to the South Island of New Zealand by that country’s Board of Tourism for a press junket . After a three-day backpacking trek on the iconic Milford Track, staying in remote huts along the way, and dodging rockslides, I found myself at Milford Sound. This place is a photographer’s dream, with steep peaks that descend directly into deep water. While the rest of the journalists headed back to Queenstown and on home, I stayed at the Sound for two days to go diving and do some kayaking. In the boat I was followed by a small school of dolphins and saw penguins on the rocky shore. It’s no wonder the Lord of the Rings movies were filmed in this area.

Roca Partida, Revillagigedos Archipelago, Pacific Ocean, 2018

As diving goes, I don’t think any place I’ve been could top the Revillagigedos. This was remote, wild diving, based on a boat for a week. One highlight was a day at Roca Partida, a rock pinnacle that barely breaks the surface of the sea, a pillar thousands of feet high (deep?) that teems with life. This was such a challenging dive. I remember having to kick with all my strength against a ripping current, descending to 130 feet. But it was well worth the effort. I was surrounded by a school of huge, sleek, fast yellowfin tuna, passed by a young whale shark, and was buzzed time and again by giant Pacific mantas. This photo looks up at the rock wall just as the manta passes overhead. I love shooting into the sun. It has a dramatic blown-out effect. In this case, I think the photo really captures the narcotic effect of breathing compressed air under hard effort—the rapture of the deep.