THE TALKS: The Art & Practice of Cave Photography

Round Table Rhetoric with Stratis Kas. Lead image: Tannic water at the entrance of Little Brother at Cenote Chac Moon gives this image striking green tones, photographed by Tom St George.

Welcome to THE TALKS—an immersive journey into the heart of tech diving that brings inspiring figures in the community together to share their insights, engage in spirited debates, and challenge conventional wisdom. 

In this episode, our culture junkie Stratis Kas speaks with five extraordinary cave photographers; Fan Ping (China), Joram Mennes (Mexico), Mariona Yepes Daviu (Italy), SJ Alice Bennett (USA), and Tom St George (Mexico)

Lately, I’ve been wondering if cave photography could ever be taken seriously as a “real” profession. Let’s be honest—there’s something almost absurd about spending hours in pitch-black, remote caves to snap photos that only a few will ever truly appreciate. It feels more like an extreme hobby, a way to escape reality, than a career. Yet here we are in 2024, and cave photographers are whispering about making a living from what others may see as pure madness. It’s no longer only about the thrill of exploration—it’s also about turning the impossible (capturing the hidden beauty of underground worlds) into cold, hard cash.

Today, I’m sitting down with a group of those very cave photographers—all of them seasoned, all of them obsessed. They come from different corners of the world, united by one thing: their need to dive deep into the Earth’s guts and bring back proof that, yes, it’s as breathtaking down there as it is eerie. For some, it’s still mostly a passion. For others, it’s about the hustle—trying to make a name (and a living) by documenting these otherworldly environments. But whatever their motivation, they all walk the same tightrope of technical skill and creative instinct.

So, can cave photography be called a profession? Or is it an obsession dressed up as one when the rent’s due? That’s the question we’re digging into today. These photographers are proof that while passion might fuel the fire, it’s the grind of turning that passion into something sustainable that separates the dreamers from the pros. With new tech pushing boundaries, this niche just might have legs. Or, at the very least, it’s got a heartbeat.

STRATIS: To kick things off, I wanted to dive straight into the tools of the trade. After all, every great photographer has their trusted gear, but in the unpredictable environment of cave diving, what’s the one item that becomes absolutely indispensable? And, let’s be real, have you ever had to MacGyver your setup in the middle of a cave to save a shoot? Spill the details.

TOM: Most people know I primarily do backlit shots of my divers. I don’t usually go around the cave setting up lights as it impacts the environment too much and takes a lot of time. If I have a specific shot in mind, I might do that for personal projects. But with clients, I work faster. So yeah, one crucial piece of gear for a cave shoot is a reasonably powerful video light. Something like a 30,000-lumen light would be my go-to piece of equipment—assuming I already have the camera, lenses, housing, and dome ports. As for MacGyvering a situation? When I first started, I was using an Olympus camera in an Olympus housing. During an engagement shoot at Cenote Angelita, I found I couldn’t change the aperture—actually, I couldn’t change two settings at all. The camera wasn’t perfectly aligned in the housing. I was sitting there thinking, oh crap. Thankfully, I could still focus, but I had to compensate by cranking up the ISO. It was stressful, but I got away with it. That experience taught me the importance of checking everything before you get in the water. You don’t want to realize an hour into the dive that you forgot an SD card or something essential. I’ve had light failures and other issues, but you learn to work around them. I always carry at least one backup video light, though I don’t bring a backup camera. Once, I was on a shoot with Emőke and László, who were doing a cave exploration project. We were using DPVs to get into the cave, and one of my fiber optic cords got chewed up by the DPV propeller. I was left with just one strobe for the shoot. So, I had to adapt by moving the working strobe to the center. Now, I always carry a spare fiber optic cable.

PING: I was talking to a friend the other day about using a 30,000-lumen light. I’ve used those Big Blue lights before, and while they’re really powerful, they can be hard to travel with—whether by plane or in a cave. Personally, I prefer two smaller lights, like two 15,000 or 18,000-lumen ones. If one fails, you still have a backup, and they’re easier to balance and travel with. Plus, they cost less than a 30,000-lumen light. I had one of the original 30,000 Big Blue Lights—they’re great, but in my opinion, smaller lights offer more flexibility.

TOM: The newer ones from Big Blue are more manageable now—about the size of a coffee can. But the original model was like a boat anchor.

JORAM: Well, I have to deal with a 60,000-lumen light! It’s ridiculous. I don’t regret having it, but I rarely use it at full power now. I balance it with smaller lights, like 7,500 or 12,000 lumens. It’s nice to have the big one, but on a regular shoot, I don’t use it at full power.

TOM: At least you have almost unlimited battery power with that!

SJ: Why did you decide to go for the 60 instead of two 30s?

JORAM: A while ago, I was looking for a sponsor for an exhibition, and Big Blue had just released the 60,000. It seemed like a great idea at the time. But looking back, I’d prefer the two 30,000s. It’s just tools, you know? The 60,000 works well in specific conditions—like huge tunnels with small divers—but for regular shoots, it’s not ideal. They also need a lot of buoys. I carry a bag full of them for the lights. People see me in the parking lot and ask if I’m going fishing. I’m like, “No, it’s for the lights!” 

Assistants are awesome. But some of us like to do things alone. Do you usually work with a crew for lighting, or are you more of a one-person army when it comes to creating those epic shots? How do you pull off those light setups?

SJ: I prefer to shoot with a team, so I usually have a lighting assistant—sometimes even two—depending on who’s available and how many models are being photographed. I really like working with assistants I’ve shot with before because they know exactly what to do. It’s best when you don’t even see them; they just handle the lighting seamlessly. I hardly ever plan detailed setups, it’s great when the dive just has a flow to it. But when I dive only with Jon [Kieren] —who’s also my main lighting assistant, we work very efficiently together so we will place lights. We usually wing it, we just go for a dive and when we see something cool we work together to light it up, snap a couple of shots and move on within a few minutes. It’s very much a team effort.

MARIONA: I’d love to have a team, but I don’t. So, like SJ, Daniele [Pontis], my boyfriend, helps me out. He also loves to model, so he’s my lighting assistant when we’re shooting. I’ve never had a full team, though I’d love to. It’s not easy to find it in Sardinia. Maybe it’s easier in places like Mexico. So, it’s mainly him and me. We decide where we want to place the lights and set everything up together. 

TOM: It’s a lot easier when someone else can handle the lighting. You can hide them behind the diver, and it makes the whole process smoother. I usually work with one model and one person to handle the lights. If there are two people, I switch them between roles. Having someone for lighting is an essential part of my setup.

JORAM: Yes, it’s a lot easier when you have a lighting assistant. They carry all the gear and follow you around. Sometimes, I have to do everything myself, and it’s not fun.

Talking about things not being fun, have you ever had a client with insane expectations that totally clashed with the realities of shooting underwater? How do you handle it when what they want is borderline impossible—or just flat-out unsafe?

JORAM: Yeah, I’ve had that happen before, but one incident really stands out. I had a local contact with a client who was diving on a CCR. The plan was to do a straightforward shoot at Heaven’s Gate in Cenote Nohoch, but things quickly went sideways. Diving in shallow water with a CCR is tricky—buoyancy control becomes a challenge, and having a camera shoved in your face only makes it worse. I’ve seen it before with divers who get flustered when they’re too close to the lens. This time, the diver was supposed to be highly skilled, but after 90 frustrating minutes of trying to get a decent shot, I had to surface and pull the client aside. I told him, “Look, if we don’t get something usable soon, I’m calling the dive.” We went back down and scraped together a few shots, but the buoyancy control was a disaster. 

Eventually, I had no choice but to end the dive. Later, I found out from the guide who had connected me with the client that the diver had been struggling all week. The guide had even taken a couple of days off because of it but conveniently forgot to mention any of this to me beforehand. So I walked into a nightmare without knowing the client had been having issues from the start. That was probably the worst shoot I’ve ever been on. I only charged for expenses and didn’t even bill for my time. I’ve learned the hard way how important it is to clearly communicate and make sure the diver’s skills are up to par, especially with technical cave diving. Had I known the client was having issues, I would’ve handled the shoot differently. 

But that day, everything just fell apart underwater. You can go in with high expectations for a challenging shoot, but sometimes it all unravels, and you’re just left thinking, ”Please get me out of here.” On the flip side, I once had a client who couldn’t handle diving at all. We ended up snorkeling instead, and I had to lift her onto rocks for photos, then carry her to the next spot. That was a very “alternative” dive, but at least it wasn’t caves. After chasing new divers around cenotes for years, almost any cave diver looks good by comparison!

PING: Yeah, in Florida, you can get away with it. When I shoot entry-level cave divers, I take them to high-flow areas where they can hold onto the rocks, which solves most of the buoyancy issues.

TOM: Exactly. Sometimes just guiding them through a restriction with a single finger helps a lot. I often shoot newly qualified cave divers—people who’ve just finished their intro or full cave course and want to commemorate it with photos. Surprisingly, it usually goes well. But sidemount divers can be tricky. If their tanks aren’t squared away, it throws off the whole shot, so I have to adjust the angle to make it work. Shooting them from underneath just makes it worse. I always tell them to fix it.

JORAM: Yeah, you tell them, they try to adjust, and it’s still a mess. You’re left wondering, ”Who taught you sidemount?” Backmount is definitely easier.

SJ: I stopped shooting intro-level divers a while ago. It became too tedious, and those weren’t the dives I wanted to be doing. After dealing with sidemount divers who’d just passed their intro courses, I got fed up. Their buoyancy was awful—fins scraping the ceiling. It was the only time I almost called a dive. After that, I decided to only shoot Full Cave or GUE Cave 1 divers. I didn’t want to do intro-level anymore; it started feeling like those influencer-style shoots you see in Tulum, taking divers to the same spots over and over. I was done.

TOM: I actually enjoy shooting intro divers. They’re usually so excited and happy. I never try to get them to pose, though—that’s key. I just let them move naturally.

SJ: I never get anyone to pose. It just stopped being fun for me, especially after dealing with so many mediocre intro divers in a row. And I never want cave photography to not feel fun, I don’t want it to be that type of job. 

Sounds like a battle. Cave photography also feels like the ultimate battle between tech and art. Do you find yourself leaning more toward one side, or are you balancing both like some underwater Jedi? And when it comes down to it, which wins in a pinch: the perfect shot or getting the gear to behave?

PING: That’s a great question. We all know how crucial the technical side is, especially for safety—dive planning, gas management, all that. But when you’re working on a personal project or something artistic, you have to tap into that abstract, creative side. It’s like using two parts of your brain at once—one is super rational, and the other is purely artistic. That’s what I love about underwater cave photography: you can’t just surface if something goes wrong, so you’ve got to plan everything meticulously. For me, I handle the technical aspects upfront. I make detailed dive plans, stage my shots, and use tripods for lights or have a lighting assistant. Once I’m in the cave, I can focus entirely on the creative side. Of course, sometimes you have to improvise, but I usually dive with a clear plan: how deep, how long, how much deco, how much battery. So by the time you’re in the cave, the technical stuff is already taken care of. If you’re on a rebreather and everything’s green, you can just focus on the photography. But diving deep in Florida—over 60 – 75 m/200 – 250 ft—makes things more technically challenging, especially in new locations. In those cases, safety is your main focus. Sometimes, I take what I call “safe shots” just to have something. It’s funny because things can go wrong, and I’ll tell the model, “Great job! Let’s do another round!” even when I don’t have anything usable. Keeping them motivated keeps the shoot going, but then you have to decide whether to try again or move on to another location.

JORAM: Yeah, I improvise a lot, especially with so many caves here in Mexico. You come across unique things—reflections, roots, colors—and that’s when the artistic side really comes alive. When I’m shooting with friends, that’s when I let loose creatively. I recently started experimenting with a Canon 8-15 mm lens and a mini dome, trying to get different results. Those are the days I love. But when it’s a job, I switch to my 16-35 mm lens and just fire off shots. Still, we’re all chasing that one unique image no one’s seen before. Inspiration often strikes while you’re in the cave—it’s less about surviving and more about the art.

TOM: Totally. Cave photography is this constant balance between the technical and the artistic. You’ve got to plan the dive—gas limits, time limits, everything has to be thought out. Then there’s the technical side of photography itself—cameras, lights, equipment. I come from a programming background, so I appreciate the tech side. But once I’m in the cave and I see shots coming together on the back of the camera, that’s when the artistic side really kicks in. It’s like everything clicks. Sure, we make a plan, like shooting a diver coming through a restriction, but beyond that, a lot is spontaneous. You might see an angle you didn’t expect, or a passage that just works, and suddenly, it all comes together. When it works, it’s exhilarating—you don’t want to stop. I just keep wanting to take more shots, and by the end, they have to drag me out of the cave. I’m always saying, “Just one more!” I don’t ask divers to turn around or pose. I keep it natural—they swim in, and when we turn, they swim out. Especially with less experienced divers, I want it to feel like a regular cave dive.

I haven’t done much underwater photography, but I do a lot of filming. I know how overwhelming task loading can get. I was filming a documentary in Greece in a cave I’ve been to 40 or 50 times. It’s very familiar territory. But even then, with people moving around, stirring up silt, I realized we needed a safer plan. So, I started having the person closest to the exit place an arrow pointing toward it every time we stopped to shoot. That way, we could focus on the work, and even if things got confusing or disorienting, we had a clear path out without turning it into a trust-me dive, even for first-timers.

JORAM: Yeah, I do the same. I always place an arrow pointing to the exit when I’m shooting off the line. I’ll even set a backup light in the exit direction on strobe mode, just in case I get turned around. It’s especially important when I’m diving with people I haven’t worked with before. Sometimes, in these big rooms, I’ll venture off the line to capture something cool, but I always make sure there are clear markers so I don’t lose my way.

TOM: Same here. If I’m setting up lights or going off the line, I make sure to put a marker down. But I’m very cautious about it, especially with newer divers. I don’t want to set a bad example. Often, these are divers fresh out of their cave course, and the last thing I want them to see is me breaking the rules by leaving the line to set up a shot. That sends the wrong message. If I’m with more experienced divers or doing exploration work, I might go off the line to place lights, but we discuss how to do this safely in the briefing; with new divers, I stick to the rules. It’s about reinforcing good habits.

JORAM: Exactly. You have to be mindful of the message you’re sending. There are times when it’s safe to go off the line, especially if you know the cave well, but you don’t want new divers thinking it’s okay to bend the rules just for photos. It’s all about balancing safety and creativity.

There’s always a balance between efficiency and safety, and safety should always come first. But we all have stories to tell, don’t we? What’s the most epic shoot you’ve ever pulled off? And on the flip side, give us the details of the worst experience you’ve had in a cave, where it all went wrong.

MARIONA: My best dive? That would have to be in the Dominican Republic, specifically at Padre Nuestro Cave. It was such a different experience compared to what I’m used to in Sardinia, where the caves are dark and not very decorated. It’s tough to get really nice shots there—nothing like the caves in Mexico, the Dominican Republic, or Florida. But in Padre Nuestro, I got to play with lighting in a completely new way. My two 15,000-lumen lights lit up the entire cave, and it was like, boom, everything was filled with light. My boyfriend was helping me out, which made it even better. Another great thing about diving in the Dominican Republic is that we had the cave completely to ourselves. No other divers, no stress—it was just a relaxed, fun experience with plenty of time to experiment and get the perfect shots. 

Now, for the worst dive—where everything went wrong—that happened in Sardinia. The caves there are cold year-round, and when you hit the freshwater, it’s freezing, so you need a dry suit. I had just replaced my neck seal the day before a shoot with a client, and when I tried it on, I thought, It feels a little loose, but it should be fine. Spoiler: it wasn’t. As soon as I got into the water, I felt it trickling down my neck—it was so cold.

I figured I’d push through and get the dive over with quickly, but that day, everything went wrong. The halocline was everywhere, making the water blurry, and it wasn’t even a planned photoshoot—I was just following the client and snapping photos, which made it even harder to get good shots. To make matters worse, the water was 10 °C/50 °F, and my drysuit was fully flooded. We ended up doing a 90-minute dive in those conditions. I was freezing, miserable, and just thinking, ”If I can get one decent picture, I can get out of here.” But the client wasn’t great in the water, and the cave was crowded with other divers, which made it even harder to get a good shot. I got a few usable photos, but it was the longest, most miserable dive of my life.

JORAM: You should come to Mexico—warm water!

MARIONA: Yeah, it’s really nice. You guys are so lucky. Looking back, that dive was definitely irresponsible on my part. I should have just called it off, but the pressure to deliver… Sometimes you just push through, even when you know you shouldn’t.

With advancements in tech, the rise of social media, and more people discovering cave diving, where do you see this niche heading in the next few years? Are we on the verge of a cave photography boom or burnout?

TOM: When I first started, lighting was a huge challenge. Affordable, high-quality lights just weren’t available. Back then, you had Keldon and Orcalights, but they were ridiculously expensive. When Big Blue came out with the 30,000-lumen video light, it was a game-changer. Cameras have also come a long way. These days, even mid-level cameras perform well in low light, especially with improved ISO. So technically, both cameras and lighting have advanced a lot. And with more people getting into cave diving, it’s really exploded. I’ve had more and more people asking about cave photography workshops, which I actually love doing. When I first started, there weren’t many cave photographers in Mexico. But now? It’s taken off. There must be a dozen full-time cave and cenote photographers in Tulum and Playa del Carmen alone.

PING: Whoa, that’s probably more than anywhere else in the world combined.

JORAM: Well, that’s why we’re in Mexico! We’ve got the best caves! 

TOM: Yeah, before good video lights came along, strobes were your only option—using remote triggers and hoping they’d fire at the right moment. The problem with strobes is that you have no clue what your exposure will be until you take a test shot and check the camera. That’s the beauty of video lights: what you see is what you get. You can preview it in real-time and know exactly what you’re working with. It’s made everything so much easier and more accessible.

Do you ever find yourself questioning if the shot is worth the risk?

SJ: Not really. I don’t take shots that I feel are excessively risky. The risk is always there, but it’s something you manage. There’s a difference between acceptable risk and irresponsible risk. You need to know your limits as a cave diver. For me, I’ve never felt like I was pushing beyond those limits just for a shot. Cave diving is inherently risky, but if you manage it correctly, you can minimize that. I’ve been challenged in places, like Florida’s flow caves, where I had to hold on for dear life while managing the camera with one hand, which felt ridiculous, but not risky. I just try to stay within my comfort zone.

MARIONA: I did take risks at the beginning, but it wasn’t intentional. I’d get so focused on the shot that I’d lose track of where I was—sometimes not even knowing where the line was—and I’d completely rely on my partner. At the time, I didn’t feel the danger because I was so caught up in getting the shot. Looking back, I can see I was putting myself in risky situations without realizing it. Over time, I’ve become more aware, like SJ, and now I manage the risks better.

TOM: When you’re starting out in cave photography, it’s easy to unknowingly put yourself in danger because you’re so focused on getting the shot. But once you have a solid plan and protocols in place, managing the risk becomes easier while still getting great shots. I wouldn’t take clients somewhere unfamiliar or push too far into a cave without a plan. There are ways to mitigate risk, like only shooting on the way in or limiting how deep or far you go. But photography and videography have been factors in cave accidents. It’s not always about professional shoots—it’s more about divers getting distracted while taking pictures or video. They lose focus, don’t manage their gas properly, or lose track of where they are in the cave. In places like Mexico, where the mainline and jumps can be close, or with hidden Ts, it’s easy to make a navigation mistake. Without thinking through how to manage those risks, cameras can add real danger. You hear about accidents where GoPro footage shows people swimming further into the cave, when they think they are exiting.

JORAM: Yeah, there’s that famous story of a group accident in Kalimba, and that’s a clear example of how things can go wrong. Completely avoidable.  

Let’s talk cash. Is it even possible to make a decent living just off cave photography, or do you have to rely on workshops, prints, or other gigs to keep it going? What’s the real hustle like?

JORAM: Am I living the dream? Am I saving money or progressing in my career? Honestly, it’s a big question mark. Over the years, I’ve gotten more established, working for various people and shops. I get jobs through Instagram, Facebook, and other social media, but is it really worth it? I’m not sure. Everything’s more expensive now—gas, groceries, entrance fees, tank rentals. When I quote a price to customers, I sometimes get negative feedback because they don’t realize how much goes into it—shooting, editing, delivering the photos, and then moving on to the next job. I’m always looking for new challenges, though I’ll never abandon the caves—it’s my passion. But making a living purely from cave photography is tough. I used to combine it with guiding, but I don’t guide anymore. After the pandemic, I decided to focus fully on photography, especially since I used to work a lot with Chinese clients and promoted my work through Chinese social media. But when that market dried up, I had to rely solely on photography, and it hasn’t been easy. I know you all do other things—Tom, you’ve got computer work, and SJ, I’m not sure what else you do—but I’ve been depending completely on photography. As a one-person operation, it’s tough. I love what I do, but it’s definitely not easy.

PING: For me, I had another job, so I wasn’t relying entirely on photography. When I lost that job, I could still go to Florida and dive with friends, but I wasn’t trying to make a living from it. It’s tough, especially in Florida. People ask why I charge more, and I have to explain that the cost of living is higher here than in Mexico. Charging $400 a day barely covers the costs. I live in Atlanta, and the client volume is much lower than what you have in Mexico. You guys are shooting a lot of intro-to-cave or full-cave graduates, while here, most divers are very experienced and only decide to get photos after 10 years of diving. The volume just isn’t there. That’s why I’m focusing on becoming a full-cave instructor, trying to balance teaching with a few photoshoots here and there. I think we’re at the top of a very small niche when it comes to cave photography. We do it because we love it, not because it’s a lucrative career. Making a living from this alone is incredibly difficult.

TOM: I always think of it as people paying me to edit, while the cave diving itself is almost free. That’s how I justify the low hourly rate.

 How do you calculate that for clients?

TOM: It’s more of a mindset than a strict business model. I have a fixed price for half-day or full-day shoots, and that price includes the editing. The cave diving part is fine, but when it comes to sitting down and editing the photos, that’s where I need to be compensated. That’s where it feels like work and I don’t like to rush the editing process.

Let’s dream a bit. If you could make one demand to the gear manufacturers right now, what would it be? Whether it’s lighter cameras, better underwater lighting, or gear that can actually survive the toughest dives—what do you wish they’d finally invent to make your life easier?

PING: Oh, that’s a great question. So, a bit about my setup—I shoot with a Sony A7S3 and rely heavily on exposure bracketing. Joram does that too, I think. You get a much better dynamic range with five photos instead of one. As for lights, sure, I’d love brighter video lights at a lower price, but honestly, what we have now works pretty well. Also, here’s something funny—I was just trying to sell my full-face mask on eBay and Facebook Marketplace. It’s got a microphone, receiver, the full comms setup for my JJ-CCR.

JORAM: Do you use it with clients?

PING: No, mostly with friends. I bought it for bigger projects, like documentaries and filming. And if I’m being honest, part of the reason was to look cooler so I could charge more! I spent around $2,000 to $3,000 on it, maybe more. But if there was a cheaper underwater communication tool, that would be amazing. I know a Chinese company is working on something for recreational diving, but it’s only waterproof to 40 m/130 ft. Still, it’s way cheaper than a full-face mask from Kirby Morgan with OTS comms—just a few hundred dollars for a microphone integrated into a second stage. They’ve even tested it in some caves in China.

TOM: I imagine that would work on rebreathers too, right? Might even be easier to understand.

PING: Yeah, people in China are already using it for recreational dives. You could just give your client an earpiece that attaches to their mask and tell them, “Hey, stop swimming, please.”

JORAM: I don’t know… I’m not sure I’d want to disturb the peace down there that much. I’ve thought about it, but I’m not sure I’d like it.

TOM: I tried the same thing. Bought a full-face mask with a receiver, thinking it’d be great for workshops so I could talk divers through settings underwater. But nope, they can’t understand a word I’m saying. Getting someone to use the OTS system properly for the first time is tricky—it doesn’t always go as planned.

We’ve all seen the movie, right? Full-face masks can be risky.

TOM: Yeah, the most dangerous combination? A full-face mask and a rebreather.

PING: Oh, for sure. I tore my dry suit once while wearing a full-face mask with a rebreather because my vision was so limited. You really can’t see well in those masks—it’s not fun. But I think better communication tools would help, especially with intro-level cave divers. Most of their mental energy is focused on staying on the line and staying alive.

TOM: We need traffic signals underwater! Red, amber, and green lights. Red means stop.

PING: Green means go!

TOM: Exactly. Green light, swim toward me.

PING: And if the red light’s blinking…well, that means you’re dying!

Let’s dream even more now! If you could have one superpower to make your job a breeze—or at least a lot less dangerous—what would it be? X-ray vision? Breathing underwater? Time travel for those perfect lighting moments?

MARIONA: Definitely breathing underwater, 100%. But more for fun than work, honestly. It would just be amazing to breathe down there. For safety, though, I’d want the ability to be fully aware of everything happening around me without having to constantly pay attention. That way, I could focus on the photoshoot without worrying about my surroundings. Balancing both is something I struggle with.

PING: Well, you’ve got your boyfriend with you.

MARIONA: Yeah, but you can’t always rely on him. What if he has a heart attack? We’ve had this debate before! What if I have a heart attack? What would you do then?

We’ve reached our final bit. You’re all photographers, so let’s pick your favorite photos and discuss them.

TOM: It’s like asking you to pick a favorite child.

JORAM: I can narrow it down to a favorite shooting experience, but not just one photo.

TOM: One of my favorites was in a cave I love. We were barely two minutes into the dive, and the cave just delivered its awesomeness right away. I was shooting up at the stalactites with my diver backlit. I had two divers switching places, taking turns backlighting each other. This shot did well in a couple of photo competitions. I love when a cave photo wins something like Ocean Art or World Ocean Day, and people get all surprised, saying, “That’s not the ocean!” I tell them, “It’s connected to the ocean. Don’t be so narrow-minded!” It does get salty if you go far enough!

SJ: I love the perspective in that shot. It draws your eye straight to the diver—it flows so well.

PING: Absolutely. The way you used the primary light just leads your eye across the formations on the ceiling. Really dynamic.

Let’s move to SJ’s pick. This one almost looks like a flag.

SJ: Kind of! This was taken in a cave called MaA’ayin, on the property of Mayakoba, north of Playa del Carmen. The cave’s really close to the ocean, so conditions change constantly. We were aiming to capture that big, dark crack you see. It’s a huge space and super dark. There’s also a weird hydrogen sulfide cloud that moves around. By the time we went back for a second attempt, the cloud had shifted, and we were pretty much in it, which was disappointing. The cave had the most unstable conditions I’ve seen in Mexico, but the cloud itself intrigued me. I had so many ideas for shots, but we couldn’t pull them off once it moved. The first time I entered, it felt like a nuclear wasteland with this eerie yellowish cloud hovering. It was a really cool, unique effect—completely different from the usual Mexican cave scene.

TOM: Shooting something new is always exciting. I love that thrill of the unknown, especially when we spend so much time photographing the same spots. I think I’ve shot Xulo like 500 times! So doing something different is a real rush.

Let’s move on to Joram’s pick.

JORAM: Yeah, check this one out. I don’t really have a “favorite” photo, but I chose this one. It’s of Mauro [Bordignon] with a DPV, using a single 60,000-lumen light. We were on the main line of Nohoch, and it was one of those spots you always pass and think, “One day, I’ll stop here for a photo.” We went specifically to get this shot. The reflection on the surface was tricky to manage. You have to hit the perfect position to avoid glare, and Mauro had to fully cover the 60,000-lumen light. There wasn’t a light assistant, so the light was in a fixed spot. I had Mauro drift by five or six times until I finally got the shot. When I did, I knew instantly—this is it. The roots on the left and the reflection all came together. It was tough, but I’m really happy with how it turned out.

TOM: That’s a fantastic shot. The detail and depth are incredible.

JORAM: Thanks! Timing was everything—if it was off by just a second, the light would’ve overexposed the whole photo. The bubbles the diver released helped reduce the reflection from the light hitting the lens. I love the textures in this one, especially with the water and roots. I showed it to my dad, and he was like, “What is this?” But lighting up a room that big with just one light is hard.

TOM: Having a 60,000-lumen light definitely helps! But yeah, it’s a stunning shot.

Now let’s check out Ping’s photo.

PING: Full disclosure, there’s a lot of Photoshop in this one! Mariona, you haven’t been to this cave—it’s the most famous one in Florida, right behind the Grim Reaper sign. It didn’t win any awards, though I submitted it to a few competitions. But people on social media love it, especially on Ginnie Springs’ accounts. Most think it’s ambient light, but I actually hid 11 lights behind the rocks and ceiling. I spent almost an hour placing them, and by the time we started shooting, one of them had already died. What I love about this shot is that it captures the full gallery, which people usually just swim through. In Photoshop, I added a gradient blue to enhance the depth since controlling the brightness and color of each light was nearly impossible.

The color correction is beautiful. Even though the diver is small and not the main focus, your eye is drawn to them because of the light blue hue. It’s a successful shot, with gorgeous aqua tones.

PING: Thanks! I actually use this shot in my cave photography workshop as the final exam—I ask my students to figure out where all the lights are based on the shadows. There are definitely things I’d change now, but honestly, I don’t want to spend another hour placing those lights again!

TOM: That’s why I generally avoid placing lights! It just takes a lot of time. Maybe now that I have a rebreather, I’ll get more into it, but not in that kind of flow. And in Mexico, going off the line causes bubbles to hit the ceiling and create percolation. Still, the textures in your shot are fantastic!

Finally, we have Mariona’s photo. Tell us about it.

MARIONA: This was taken in Padre Nuestro, in the Dominican Republic. It was my first time diving there, and for this shot, I stayed close to the line.

The baby blue hue is similar to Ping’s shot, but here, it’s more about the distance. The mix of blues, whites, and browns comes together beautifully. It feels like what you’d actually see in the cave with the right lighting. Were you just using strobes?

MARIONA: No, I had one strobe, two video lights, and strobes on my camera. The diver is holding two video lights, and I had one strobe placed in the back.

The tones are fantastic—great range. Cave photography really is its own art form, isn’t it?

PING: Oh, definitely. I once posted a photo online, and someone asked, “Why even go down there when you could just make an AI photo? It’s safer and cheaper.” I was like, “That’s not the point!”

JORAM: Exactly. No matter how advanced the camera is, it can’t truly capture what we see down there. What our eyes take in, we carry with us forever.

TOM: Sometimes, though, cameras with video lights bring out details we might miss—like textures you can enhance in post. It’s different from what we see on a dive, but it adds something special.

MARIONA: But that’s the point, right? It’s about the experience of being there. That’s what keeps you coming back.

TOM: Absolutely. There’s always that drive to go back, capture a better shot, or find a new passage to shoot. It’s addictive.

SJ: AI might create realistic-looking images, but for me, it’s about documenting a moment in time. In 20 years, we’ll look back on our photos like we do now with old film photos of caves. There’s something irreplaceable about capturing the real thing and actually being there.

I agree. There’s something irreplaceable about the authenticity of photography. We’re in a great era with technology, but in the end, it’s about documenting the experience.

TOM: Yeah, technology will keep improving, especially with cameras and low-light capabilities. But nothing beats the thrill of getting the shot. No matter how good the gear gets, it’s the experience that makes it worth it.

JORAM: The sad part is that while technology gets better, we’re losing dive sites to development and environmental damage. Documenting what’s left is more important than ever, especially here in Mexico. Every time you drive through the jungle and see new construction, it’s heartbreaking.

TOM: Absolutely. Cenotes are being filled in, and more and more cave sites are being trashed. It’s tough to see.

It’s clear that this art form is about much more than just capturing a shot—it’s about balancing technical skill, creativity, and a deep respect for these unique environments. What stood out is how you continue to push boundaries, driven not only by the thrill of exploration but also by a commitment to document and preserve these hidden worlds. Through sheer dedication, you’ve shown that while the hustle is real, the passion for cave photography keeps you going. I’m grateful for your time and insights, and I look forward to seeing how you continue to evolve this niche. Here’s to capturing the next great shot and the adventure behind it! Thank you!

DIVE DEEPER

InDEPTH: THE TALKS #1: Cave Diving Nomads

InDEPTH: The TALKS #2: Leaders of the Pod

InDEPTH: The TALKS #3:  Diving Deep into Science

InDEPTH: A Voice in the Wilderness  (SJ Alice Bennett)

InDEPTH: What Does It Cost to Become a Professional Cave Photographer? (Fan Ping)

InDEPTH: Plan the Shoot. Shoot the Plan. (Fan Ping)

InDEPTH: Limestone, Light and Water (Tom St. George)

Fan Ping

Fan Ping is a professional underwater photographer and videographer, born and raised in Beijing, China, and currently based in Atlanta, USA. As the founder of Be Water Imaging, he has built a reputation for capturing breathtaking underwater scenes that blend artistic vision with the natural world. With expertise as a technical and cave diving instructor, Fan is known for his work with Discovery Channel and his mastery of 8K Raw photography. His specialization in complex lighting techniques, particularly in overhead environments, allows him to create stunning, immersive images that reveal the hidden beauty of the underwater world. Through his lens, Fan is committed to inspiring the public by showcasing the wonders beneath the surface.

https://www.bewaterimaging.com/

https://www.instagram.com/bewaterimaging

https://www.facebook.com/fan.ping.718

Tech Specs:
Camera: Sony A7Siii
Housing : Nauticam 
Dome: 8.5 Acrylic Dome
Lenses: Sony  28-60mm, in nauticam housing with WACP-1 lens
Monitor: Atomos Ninja V+ in Nauticam housing  
Lights: DivePro, 18k and 15k lumens
Accessories: Ultralight

Joram Mennes

Joram Mennes, born in Formentera, part of the Balearic Islands in Spain, has been diving since 1998. In 2001, he became an Open Water Scuba Instructor (OWSI) and worked in Ibiza for several summers. In 2006, Joram moved to Tulum, Mexico, where he first encountered the mesmerizing Cenotes during his Intro to Cave Diving course. This experience ignited his passion for cave diving, leading him to travel and work across the Caribbean in countries such as the Dominican Republic, Jamaica, Costa Rica, Panama, and Trinidad and Tobago as an OWSI. In 2010, Joram returned to Mexico, settling in Playa del Carmen to continue his cave diving training. Over time, he became deeply immersed in guiding and exploring the intricate cave systems. In 2015, Joram picked up a DSLR camera and ventured into underwater photography, mastering the craft in challenging environments. His work focuses on capturing the beauty of enormous chambers, natural light, hydrogen sulfide clouds, haloclines, and stunning speleothems, showcasing the awe-inspiring hidden world beneath the surface.

Links:
www.jorammennes.com
https://www.youtube.com/@jorammennesphotography
https://www.facebook.com/Jorammennesphotography
https://www.instagram.com/jorammennesphotography
https://www.instagram.com/jorammennesvideography

Tech Specs:
Camera: Sony A1
Housing: Nauticam 
Dome: 8.5 Acrylic Dome
Lenses: Sony 16-35mm F2.8, Canon 8-15mm
Lights: 2x 7.5K Bigblue Lights, 2x 3.8K keldan Lights, 2x 12K Supe Scubalamp, 1x 60K Bigblue light

Mariona Yepes Daviu

Mariona is a Barcelona-born, Italy-based underwater photographer, cave and rebreather diver, and recreational diving instructor. Self-taught in her craft, she draws on her background in Architecture, where she mastered the use of light, perspective, color, and composition. With a hands-on approach and a keen eye for detail, Mariona captures the beauty of underwater life, from caves and wrecks to coral reefs, offering a unique perspective on the wonders of the deep by blending her technical skills with her artistic vision. 

Links:
www.marionayepesdaviu.com

Tech Specs:
Camera: Nikon z6 
Housing: Isotta Nikon Z Mount B120 housing
Lenses: AF-S Fisheye Nikkor 8-15mm f/3.5-4.5E ED + Nikon adapter FTZ
Lights: 2 x Inon Z330 strobes, 1 x Inon S2000 strobe (slave), 2 x Big Blue VL15000P video lights 

SJ Alice Bennett

With a background in event and documentary photography, SJ is passionate about creating images that tell a story. After moving to Quintana Roo, Mexico in 2017 she turned her focus on the underground rivers of the area. Now based in High Springs, Florida she is concentrated on a new challenge of shooting deep high-flow caves.

Always playing with the balance of light and shadows, her documentary style of shooting is well known for capturing the emotions of the moment.

She has a passion for filming and photographing exploration projects and through her images, she hopes to both inspire and draw attention to the need to protect these stunning locations. 

Projects:
https://karstunderwater.org
https://cenotesofmayakoba.com
https://www.beyondthesump.org

Links:
www.sjalicebennett.com
www.instagram.com/sj.alice.bennett
www.facebook.com/SJAliceBennett

Gear:
Camera: Sony a7S III
Lens: Sony FE 24-70mm f/2.8 GM 
Housing: Nauticam with N120 180mm Optical Glass Wide Angle Port
Lights: 2x Keldan 30k, 2x Keldan 15k (most of the time not all of them are used) 2x Keldan 8k on camera
Accessories: Nauticam Carbon Fiber Aluminum Float Arm cobinded with ultra light arms

Tom St George

Tom discovered his passion for diving over 20 years ago after emigrating from the UK to New Zealand. A decade later, the wanderlust struck again but with renewed force, motivating him to quit his office job and travel the world. When he settled on the Caribbean coast of the Yucatán Peninsula it was in cenotes that his dual obsessions of scuba diving and photography truly came together. He is best known for his award-winning images of the cenotes and underwater caves which have been published in magazines worldwide. He works both as a professional photographer and teaches underwater photography through private coaching and group workshops.

Links:
https://tomstgeorge.com 
https://instagram.com/tom.st.george

Tech Specs:
Camera:  Canon R5
Housing: Marelux housing and ports
Lenses: Sigma 15mm fisheye lens with dome port OR, Canon 28-70 lens with Nauticam WACP-C conversion port
Lights: 2 x Supe D-Pro strobes, 2 x Supe 6K Pro video lights for on-camera light (mainly for video), 3 x Big Blue CB30000P-II video lights for off-camera lighting

Stratis Kas, a Greek-Italian professional diving instructor, photographer, film director, and author, has spent over a decade as an esteemed Advanced Cave instructor, leading expeditions to extreme locations worldwide. His impressive diving achievements have solidified his expertise in the field. In 2020, Kas published the influential book Close Calls, followed by his highly acclaimed second book, CAVE DIVING: Everything You Always Wanted to Know, released in 2023. Accessible on stratiskas.com, this comprehensive guide has become a go-to resource for cave diving enthusiasts. Kas’s directorial ventures include the documentary “Amphitrite” (2017), shortlisted for the Short to the Point Film Festival, and “Infinite Liquid” (2019), which explores Greece’s uncharted cave diving destinations and was selected for presentation at Tekdive USA. Kas’s expertise has led to invitations as a speaker at prestigious conferences including Eurotek UK, Tekdive Europe and USA, Tec Expo, and Euditek.  For more information about his work and publications, visit stratiskas.com.