The Whale Shark: A Moment That Changed Everything

“Life is a series of moments. The quality of attention and action that we bring to each moment determines the quality of our lives.”— Dan Millman

Can you think of a moment that changed the course of your life? A moment so stunning, unsettling, or awe-inspiring that it made ordinary life feel… insufficient?

I can.

It happened in 2016, during a dive trip in the Maldives. My husband Chris and I were living in Southeast Asia at the time, and I’d recently earned my dive certification. Chris, a seasoned Navy diver and underwater photographer, was already at home in the ocean. I was still new, but I’d never felt more in my element.

A few days into our trip, we dropped into a reef dive. About twenty minutes in, I heard a metallic “clink… clink… clink.” It echoed faintly through the water—like silverware on glass. I looked around. Just reef. Just blue. Just bubbles.

The sound continued, insistent.

I turned farther… and that’s when I saw it.

A whale shark—gliding silently behind us, close enough to make my heart stop.

Our Maldivian guide had been clinking a metal rod on his tank to get our attention. The shark had been following us all along.

It was massive. The largest animal I’d ever seen in the water, moving with breathtaking grace along the reef. My pulse spiked with adrenaline and awe.

Whale sharks are harmless to humans. As gentle filter-feeders, they drift through tropical waters straining krill and plankton, growing as long as 40 feet and weighing up to 20 tons. For divers, encountering one is the holy grail.

Chris, always the photographer, had already moved into position on the shark’s right side. I reached out, suspended in the blue, and held my breath.

Click.

He captured the moment, and it captured me.

That week, we swam with mantas and sea turtles. But it was the whale shark that stayed with me. It awakened something I hadn’t known was missing—a deep, visceral connection to the ocean. For years, I’d searched for a passion that was truly mine, outside of relationships or career. That dive gave me purpose.

When we eventually moved to Virginia, I followed that spark. I went back to school in my 30s, diving into marine ecology, environmental science, and anything that could help me better understand the ocean. It wasn’t easy. Calculus, organic chemistry, 12-hour days on boats, unpaid internships—I pushed through it all.

And whenever I questioned my path, I’d revisit that photo. That moment.

As my scientific knowledge deepened, so did my understanding of myself. I couldn’t separate the science from the story—the raw emotion from the ecosystems. I realized that storytelling was my bridge between worlds. By humanizing the ocean’s charismatic creatures, I could inspire empathy and connection.

In 2020, I co-founded Media Evolve to do just that: blend education, visual storytelling, and conservation in ways that inform and inspire. With Chris behind the lens and me behind the message, we’re sharing the wonder of the ocean—one story at a time.

Now, from a new base in the South Pacific, the next chapter begins. The ocean still calls. And I’m still listening—just beyond the reef.