Every scuba dive brings a new adventure, and there is something about diving on a shipwreck that awakens the little kid in me.  Maybe it is the mystery of the ship's sinking, or maybe the fantasy that there will be a hidden treasure chest, or maybe it is even a sense of the wandering spirits who are forever trapped in their watery grave.

Many of us (fortunate) underwater photographers have traveled across the world to go scuba diving. We plan and book a trip, pack the gear, and then fly to a country where we are swiftly esorted into a resort or onto a liveaboard boat. The guides show us some great reefs and marine life, and before we know it, we're back on the plane heading home.

But what if you remove the soft resort and liveaboard beds? Take away the warm meals. And dive guides... what dive guides? This is becomes the world of dive expeditions.

I had been dreaming of the day I would see a whale in the wild since I was a child. Something about their massive size, yet gentle nature always intrigued me. Upon arriving in Vava’u, Tonga, I was expecting a great performance from the whales, full of action and fast-paced swimming involved with a heat run (one female whale accompanied by a suitor, followed by several other male whales fighting to challenge him). While we did experience several heat runs on our journey, it was the calm, quiet moments with the mothers and calves that truly touched my soul.