Finding the Art and Soul of Underwater Photography
From tranquil pools to vast oceans, few environments rival the immersive beauty of being underwater. For photographer Karyn Allard, that subaquatic world is a place of visual wonder, emotional reflection, artistic expression, and natural connection. In this personal essay, Allard shares her journey from childhood fascination with water to a lifelong creative pursuit that marries the quest for artistry, technical mastery, and emotional depth.
By Karyn Allard
I’ve been drawn to water my entire life. Growing up in Southern California, I was what you’d call a water baby. We didn’t have the money to go on many vacations, so the beach became the source of recreation, the go-to place for discovery and adventure. Every visit to my grandparents’ rustic beach house at Capistrano Beach was an adventure filled with boogie boarding, body surfing, sailing Hobie Cats, surf-skiing and riding jet skis.
The ocean was my playground. Water was always where I felt most alive. That has never changed. Being in the company of water has defined much of my adult life, providing not only a source of income, but also endless joy and fascination.
Eyes Opening
My first real glimpse into the underwater world came in 1986 while snorkeling at Hanauma Bay in Oahu. I was absolutely captivated by the coral reef and the life it held. That experience stayed with me and led to my first scuba course in 1988 before a trip to Cabo San Lucas. I remember the exact date, June 11, 1988, because it was also the day I met my dive instructor, Michael Allard, who would soon become my husband. We were married in 1989 and started our shared journey into life beneath the surface.
That path eventually brought us to St. Lucia in March 1991, when we moved to manage Scuba St. Lucia for Anse Chastanet Resort, which later would also become the site of the legendary Jade Mountain.
We had signed a one-year contract, and more than three decades later, we’re still here. The first year was the hardest, moving from Los Angeles to a place with no TV, no phone at home, no internet, and letters from California taking up to eight months to arrive. But slowly, this island, with its lush landscapes, vibrant reefs and friendly islanders became our home.
The warmth of the people, the rhythm of the natural world, and the close-knit resort and dive community rooted us here. More than anything this place is defined by the connection to the sea. My love of diving and taking pictures of the underwater world are a natural outgrowth of that relationship.
For many years, I was focused on managing the dive shop, guiding dives and teaching scuba classes. Ironically, I had little interest in underwater photography at the time. I often felt photographers were missing the dive experience because they were too focused on framing shots. Still, my years of diving familiarized me with aquatic lifeforms and ever-shifting nature of the ocean.
My relationship to photography changed dramatically in 2020 during the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic. Ironically, it was a time of natural renewal. With no boats, no crowds, and no divers, nature seemed to take a deep breath. The fish life exploded, and the reefs felt alive in a way I had not seen for decades. We organized a dive with photographers to document the amazing reef life during COVID. Our in-house photographer handed me a rental camera and said, “Make yourself useful”! I did and I’ve never looked back.
I started with a GoPro 8, then upgraded to a 9, then tried my iPhone in a SeaLife housing, moved on to an Olympus TG-6, and now I shoot with a Sony AR7V in a Nauticam housing with a full lighting setup.
My favorite dive site, was named by our scuba manager during the pandemic, “Karyn’s Reef”, as we would do long and lazy photo dives there quite frequently. It’s a place that always surprises me with something new, and I am deeply honored that the name seems to have endured. No matter how many times I dive there, nor the countless hours spent communing with the beautiful lifeforms, I discover something new every time. The ocean is so complex, so rich and full of life, all you really need to do is be open to the experience and allow it to unfold. Within this single reef, you can find a lifetime of discovery and fascination.
In Deep
For me, every dive is a creative and emotional experience. Underwater, I feel grounded and focused, like I’ve entered a meditative state. It’s my sanctuary. A yoga class, massage, and meditation session all wrapped into one. There’s peace, wonder, and the thrill of discovery. I love macro photography, getting in close to capture the textures of coral, the eyes of a fish, or the intricate patterns on a nudibranch. One of my favorite shots is a macro close-up of a fireworm’s face – tiny, bristling, and alien in the best way.
I’m always scanning for patterns, light, and unusual behaviors. Even the smallest blade of seagrass can be home to incredible life. Sometimes I don’t see everything in the shot until I examine the images back at home. That single patch of seagrass might contain an entire ecosystem unto to its own, and it’s just waiting to be discovered.
Every dive is different, even in the same location. I don’t go in with a shot list. I go in curious. What’s the reef showing me today? What’s glowing, shifting, hiding? It’s amazing how I’m literally never disappointed. By slowing down to take it all in, through my lens I’m treated to an unfolding rich pageant of experience, and I always feel a little disappointed when it is time to return to dry land.
Photography is a perfect companion activity, because it forever captures that thrill of discovery. My visual style leans toward storytelling. I want each image to make people pause, to feel something – joy, wonder, reverence. I especially love when friends or fellow divers reach out to say that a photo made their day or reminded them why they fell in love with the ocean in the first place.
One of my dearest friends and supporters is my “St. Lucian Mom”, Alice Bagshaw, whom I’ve known since our first year when we arrived to run Scuba St. Lucia nearly 35 years ago. Alice was an avid diver and one of the first female divers in St. Lucia. She was in a convalescent hospital during COVID and would always call me with uplifted spirits after I would share underwater photos with her. While her diving years are in the past, she still dives vicariously through my images. Taking and sharing underwater pictures is a wonderful way to take the private joy of diving and share it with friends, family and strangers alike.
Technically, underwater photography is always a challenge. Backscatter is a constant struggle. Those little particles light up with your strobes and ruin an otherwise perfect shot. Strobe positioning and getting close to your subject are crucial. The less water between you and your subject, the better the image. I often experiment with shutter speeds, strobe angles, macro converters, and panning techniques to keep things fresh and keep growing as an underwater photographer.
Wet Perspectives
Even more than technique, I’ve come to see my photography as a form of advocacy. I want people to care about the ocean and to see it not just as a backdrop, but as a living, breathing world that needs appreciation and protection. At Anse Chastanet and Jade Mountain, we work on coral restoration and reef cleanups. Through my photos, I hope to inspire a deeper sense of connection and responsibility.
We need healthy reefs, clean waters, and thriving marine life, not just for divers and photographers, but for everyone. The ocean connects us all. It drives weather, feeds communities, balances our climate, and fills our lungs with oxygen. And yet, we keep taking more than we give back. I hope that when people see my photos, they’re moved to protect the places and creatures that give us so much.
The ocean is not just a refuge, it’s life itself. It gives us the air we breathe, the food we eat, the climate that sustains us. Yet, it is fragile. Every time I dive, I see signs of both its resilience and its vulnerability.
Being underwater has changed me, not just as a photographer, but as a person. It teaches patience, quiet observation, and humility. I’ve learned to slow down, to tune in, to let go of control. My favorite dives are often up to two and a half hours in shallow water, just drifting and watching the stories unfold.
I still consider myself a student of the craft. Our in-house photographer, Bernd Rac, is the man that handed me that camera and told me make myself useful. He has been a very patient teacher, giving me both critiques to push myself to improve my work, but also always encouraging me when I felt defeated. I’m also always learning from admiring the work of other underwater photographers. Some of my biggest inspirations include Mickey Charteris, Paul Nicklen, Cristina Mittermeier, Alex Mustard, and Kate Jonker. Their incredible photography motivates and inspires me to keep learning.
For the Love of Water
I call myself enthusiastic amateur photographer, inspired and motivated to share the wonders of the sea. I truly believe through our connection to nature and especially the oceans, we find our better selves.
One day, I’d love to create a coffee table book about the beautiful underwater world of St. Lucia, as I am so grateful to have this soul-stirring place be a part of my life for the past 35 years and want to share it with others. I’d also love to explore more. There’s so much ocean and the list of places I would love to dive is endless.
My advice to aspiring underwater photographers? Dive in. Be present. Enjoy the moment. Let your curiosity lead, while allowing nature to deliver. It can take time and patience, but that only makes the process more rewarding and worthwhile. Shoot what moves you. And share what you love, because that’s what will move others. If my photos can make one person pause, smile, and feel connected to this big blue world, and maybe care enough to protect it, then I’ve done what I set out to do.
Water is life. And it’s up to all of us to keep it alive.
You can check out more of Karyn Allard’s photography at https://www.instagram.com/karynallard/.






















