Travel

Tiger sharks Ronja and Pooja seem comfortable in each other’s company as they closely inspect us while cruising the sandy shallows (Nikon Z8, Nikon Z 14–30mm f/4, SEACAM housing, f/14, 1/250s, ISO 400)
 

Our first tiger shark (Galeocerdo cuvier) didn’t announce herself. In fact, we felt her before we saw her. With a subtle shift in the water column and a change in pressure, she was there. Carving through the blue with the quiet authority of an animal who knows she owns the water, F140—better known as Whitepec—was instantly recognizable, not only from her huge size, but by the distinct white markings just in front of her pectoral fin, a unique feature that makes her easy to identify.

At over 13 feet (four meters) in length, she moved with an assertive dominance as other sharks yielded space for her to pass. For almost a decade, she has been a constant presence in these waters, appearing on many dives, as if keeping an unspoken appointment with the divers who descend in the hope of seeing her. She is also one of the island’s most important reproductive females. Commanding respect, both among her peers and the humans who share her waters, she was intelligent, curious, and confident to enter our personal space.
 

This is Whitepec. Captured with a fisheye lens, this 13-foot-plus female tiger shark oozes character. With her signature white markings and quiet dominance, she is a powerful female, vital to Fuvahmulah’s future. In May 2024, she was involved in a world-first study where researchers undertook an underwater ultrasound of her during her mid-term pregnancy (Nikon Z8, Nikon AF-S 8–15mm f/3.5–4 Fisheye, SEACAM housing, f/14, 1/250s, ISO 400)

An Island Anchored in Isolation

There are very few places in our oceans where apex predators arrive on their own terms. Fuvahmulah (pronounced foah-moo-lah), a solitary island rising from the deep south of the Maldives, is one of those places. As I write, my computer’s autocorrect is convinced I’m having some kind of medical episode, as every attempt to spell Fuvahmulah gets replaced with something far more pronounceable—and completely wrong. But it doesn’t matter that I can’t spell or pronounce it properly; all that matters is that there is an extraordinary congregation of 312 individual tiger sharks here, including 44 males and a remarkable 268 females.

Fuvahmulah stands solo and is detached from the long chain of atolls that define the Maldives. There are no lagoons or shallow reef flats tapering gently into the blue. Instead, the island drops steeply into deep ocean on all sides, creating a unique confluence of currents, nutrients, and pelagic life. It is this isolation that creates the perfect stage for reliable and memorable tiger shark interactions.

For underwater photographers patient enough to observe, and earn the encounter, Fuvahmulah offers endless opportunities. But reliability of tiger shark encounters does not mean predictability. Photographing the sharks here is about understanding behavior, reading body language, and adapting your photographic technique to a subject that is not only formidable, but profoundly curious.
 

Feisty Amaal keeps an eye on photographer Peter Marshall (Nikon Z8, Nikon Z 14–30mm f/4, SEACAM housing, f/13, 1/320s, ISO 400)
 

Residents, Not Guests

One of the first questions people ask about Fuvahmulah is whether the sharks here are fed. It’s an understandable assumption in a world where so many shark encounters are engineered.

Fuvahmulah is a local island with local fishers who have worked these productive fishing waters for more than a century. At the end of each day, the carcasses from the daily catch are discarded at the harbor entrance. As an island rising sharply from the deep Indian Ocean, with no protective lagoon to soften the boundary between reef and open sea, the tiger sharks can move effortlessly between deep ocean and coastal shallows, following suitable prey—or in this case to scavenge waste from the day’s catch. Sharks were never originally fed here to attract them for the dive community; the dive community saw an opportunity and has now taken advantage of it.

It’s important to note that tiger sharks are natural scavengers, quite content to investigate and consume what’s already dead rather than burn energy chasing fast prey. It’s a kind of efficiency that borders on laziness—and in the case here, why bother hunting when there’s a buffet waiting at the harbor entrance? Drifting carcasses, discarded catches, even the unfortunate aftermath of other predators all become part of the sharks’ menu. Here, they quietly go about cleaning the ocean while conserving energy in a world where every calorie counts.

The sharks here, however, still behave just as apex predators should—unhurried, curious, and uninterested in performing. For divers and photographers, that distinction is important.

Tiger sharks are at Fuvahmulah year round. Individuals are recognized by local guides through their distinctive stripe patterns, scars, and of course their unique personalities and behaviors—of which there are many! Most encounters take place on a sandy bottom at the harbor entrance at 23 feet, or in open water over featureless blue. For some, this lack of visual reference can feel disorienting at first, but it strips the experience back to the essentials: sharks, water, and light. Without a coral reef to frame the scene, composition of your images becomes a deliberate act. Every angle and shift in posture matters and influences how your shot is framed.
 

With a population of approximately 14,000 inhabitants, the island of Fuvahmulah is the second southernmost atoll of the Maldives
 

A bird’s-eye view of Fuvahmulah harbor and its entrance where tiger shark encounters take place and are essentially 100 percent guaranteed
 

Positioned low, and resting calmly on the sand, we maintained eye contact with the sharks and minimized any erratic movements. The sharks would dictate the pace. They would circle wide, and we would wait. They would approach us closely, and we would remain still. This consistency created a predictable environment—not for us, but for the sharks. From a photographic perspective, this discipline was invaluable. With us holding our position, sharks would move smoothly through the frame. Their paths became readable and their curiosity unfolded naturally. The result was not just safer diving—but better images.

Although tiger sharks can be seen in the harbor area at any time, in order to keep them interested during the dive, a tuna head is hidden within a pile of coral rubble. Burying the tuna head in the rubble mimics their instinctive, natural hunting behavior—just under a slightly different scenario. The dive ends and the shark is rewarded when a guide exposes the tuna head for the shark to more easily find. No hand-feeding takes place. If you’d prefer the tuna head not be used on your dives, that can also be arranged—allowing your images to unfold even more naturally.

Baiting sharks is, of course, a contentious practice. Critics argue it conditions them to link boats and people with food. Here, though, the use of tuna (which is part of the tiger shark’s natural diet) is very restrained. Crucially, it also opens a window for the scientific community, enabling cutting-edge research that simply wouldn’t be possible otherwise.
 

Two tigers bury their noses in the sand searching out the hidden tuna head used to keep them interested during their portrait session (Nikon Z8, Nikon Z 14–30mm f/4, SEACAM housing, f/13, 1/250s, ISO 400)
 

Anisa is a cheeky, bold and testing female shark who eagerly investigates divers and other sharks (Nikon Z8, Nikon Z 14–30mm f/4, SEACAM housing, f/13, 1/250s, ISO 400)

Reading Tiger Shark Behavior

We worked out very quickly that in order to photograph the tigers well, we needed to understand what they were trying to tell us. A tiger shark cruising with slow, even tail beats and pectoral fins angled slightly downward is relaxed. This is when they are at their most photogenic. It is in these moments where you can capture the classic portrait: stunning profiles, eye contact, and stripes fading along their flank.

We discovered that when a shark tightened its swimming pattern and its gaze, it was communicating we needed to be alert. This was not a form of aggression, but rather asking us to be aware. This occurred when a shark was assessing something new, such as a new diver on the scene, or a large reflective dome port. Rather than backing away, this was when the sharks became more curious and moved closer towards us.

Under these situations, head-on approaches were common, and I won’t lie that at times they felt confronting. As photographers, however, they delivered us those “high-five” image moments. A frontal tiger shark image with its eyes forward, and stripes converging, can convey the shark’s presence in a way that no side-on passing shot ever could. But it did require some courage!

Perhaps the most overlooked behavior was the sharks’ vertical movement. The tigers here would often rise from below, materializing from blue water with no warning and pass overhead silhouetted against the sun. So keeping one eye on the deep and one eye above you was the difference between a missed opportunity and a beautiful capture.
 

A confronting head-on portrait of Muhusina, one of the largest tiger sharks in Fuvahmulah. First recorded in May 2022, she’s been sighted more than 400 times, making her the most frequently encountered—and arguably most social—individual here. At 13.8 feet (4.2 metres), she lives up to her reputation as a true power shark. In 2024, she was confirmed early-term pregnant during the ultrasound project and went on to give birth in mid-2025 (Nikon Z8, Nikon Z 14–30mm f/4, SEACAM housing, f/13, 1/320s, ISO 640)
 

Don’t forget to look up to capture those unexpected photographic opportunities and to provide diversity to your tiger shark portfolio (Nikon Z8, Nikon Z 14–30mm f/4, SEACAM housing, f/14, 1/320s, ISO 400)

Light, Depth, and the Challenge of Blue Water

In order to keep the tigers calm and predicable, operators require photographers to refrain from using strobes when shooting the sharks and other pelagic species. So, it is all about working with available light and managing contrast. The water here is often a deep blue, sometimes leaning toward indigo, especially at depth. On bright, sunny days, the ambient light can be harsh, especially on the sand in the shallows, flattening detail on the shark’s dorsal fin while leaving its belly in shadow. On overcast days, the light tends to softens nicely, but drops away quickly with depth.

For these big animals, a rectilinear wide-angle lens allows you to keep the shark in frame without distortion, while a fisheye lens can work exceptionally well for those dramatic up-close encounters and character-filled portraits—if you’re comfortable managing that perspective! In good visibility, you can allow the natural light to shape the scene. The beauty of photographing tiger sharks is that they have an almost metallic quality, so when you have nice ambient light, you can really reveal the intricate patterns along the shark’s flank.
 

Anisa—first seen in December 2024—is a bold, cheeky female, identified by white spots on her right side and the notches along the edges of her dorsal fin (Nikon Z8, Nikon Z 14–30mm f/4, SEACAM housing, f/13, 1/250s, ISO 400)
 

Natalie is a remarkable female tiger shark, first documented in May 2019. With more than 100 sightings since, she’s become one of the most consistent presences around Fuvahmulah. Measuring around 13 feet (four meters), she sits firmly among the island’s large reproductive females. She’s easy to recognize once you know what to look for—a clean, straight cut along the top of her dorsal fin. Despite her size and confidence, Natalie favors the open blue, keeping her distance (Nikon Z8, Nikon Z 14–30mm f/4, SEACAM housing, f/14, 1/320s, ISO 400)

Composition Without a Reef

One of the greatest challenges—and gifts—of Fuvahmulah is the absence of a reef structure. Without coral heads, bommies, or schools of reef fish, the shark becomes the whole story. We tried to keep things simple by allowing negative space to dominate and resisted the urge to fill every corner of the frame with the subject. Some of the most powerful images were those that were minimalist, but sometimes the sharks approached us so close that filling the frame was the only option!

Adding a diver in our images worked well to provide scale, but only when it was done thoughtfully. A well-placed, calm diver, reinforces the shark’s size, but poor diver placement, bubbles, and bright gear distracts instantly. When photographing tiger sharks (or any shark for that matter), eye contact matters. Not only are your eyes your best defense against an unwanted interaction, but a tiger shark looking into the lens creates an emotional bridge between the viewer and your subject. It invites curiosity rather than fear and challenges the narrative we’ve inherited about these animals.
 

Raja and Cozy Scuba Club dive guide Safdhar get acquainted in the shallows. Relentless and always on the move, Raja has already been sighted close to 100 times, marking her as one of the boldest rising individuals among Fuvahmulah’s tiger sharks (Nikon Z8, Nikon Z 14–30mm f/4, SEACAM housing, f/14, 1/250s, ISO 500)

Ethics and Earning the Shot

The tiger shark is among our ocean’s most misunderstood animals. Popular culture continues to paint most large sharks like the tiger shark as indiscriminate, aggressive, and always on the hunt. In reality, tigers are intelligent and highly inquisitive—traits that become obvious only once you spend time with them underwater.

The conversation around photographing sharks has shifted in recent years, and rightly so. In Fuvahmulah, the approach prioritized by Cozy Scuba Club reinforces an important truth: The best images come from patience, not pressure. Sharks that feel unthreatened behave naturally; natural behavior photographs better—and tells a truer story.

As photographers, we carry huge responsibility to showcase these animals as they are—complex, intelligent, and deserving of our respect. Choosing to photograph sharks with restraint, respect, and honesty can create beautiful images that can help shift broader public perception of these important apex predators, and even influence shark related policy. As a photographer, having restraint is also important. Not every close pass needs a release of your shutter. You’ll find the experience itself means far more than any image ever will.

So you’re probably wondering by now if I’ve finally mastered how to spell Fuvahmulah. Well, I think I’ve finally got it, so blame the autocorrect for any typos you find. Just don’t ask me to pronounce it!
 

Bold Koko (middle) and her crew cruise the shallows. First seen in 2019, she has been recorded over 100 times (Nikon Z8, Nikon Z 14–30mm f/4, SEACAM housing, f/14, 1/250s, ISO 400)

Planning Your Trip to Fuvahmulah

Fuvahmulah isn’t your glossy, overwater-villa version of the Maldives—and that’s exactly why we love it. The streets feel lived in, the ocean wild and unpredictable. It’s not trying to be beautiful in the curated, postcard sense—it is special in its own wild way.

Getting There: Planning your journey to Fuvahmulah is refreshingly seamless, particularly when choosing Cozy Scuba Club, whose structured dive-and-stay packages simplify the logistics of this remote southern Maldivian atoll. Simply choose from a number of itineraries that combine accommodation at Cozy Roots or Cozy Nest; meals; guided tiger shark and reef dives; tank, weight and equipment hire; domestic flights; and airport transfers. Then, get yourself to the Maldivian capital of Malé, and let Cozy Scuba Club handle the rest.

When to Go: Fuvahmulah’s tiger sharks are encountered year round, though January through April typically offers the calmest seas and best visibility underwater. With carefully managed dive rotations designed to prioritize safety and shark welfare, advance reservations are strongly advised—particularly during peak travel months.

Diving: Any meaningful photographic encounter with large predators always depends on the people facilitating it. Cozy Scuba Club played a central role in shaping how we approached and photographed Fuvahmulah’s tigers. Dives are conducted with a strong emphasis on control, awareness, and shark welfare. Briefings are detailed and direct, covering positioning, body language, and what not to do just as much as what to expect. With resident marine biologist Kelsey Ogren on board, marine science is an integral part of the overall Cozy Scuba Club experience. Not only does she know each individual shark intimately and is a valuable resource for guests, but she is also working tirelessly to document the shark population here and to continue valuable research. For experienced freedivers, it is also possible to freedive with the tigers. Reef diving is also part of the dive program, where if you’re lucky, and are happy to go deeper, you may encounter thresher sharks, oceanic mantas, hammerheads, and other pelagic species.

Beyond Fuvahmulah: Consider adding a trip to Dhangethi Island with a stay at Cozy Art, enjoying the island’s famous blue water channels and the opportunity to encounter whale sharks in their natural habitat.

Information: Visit www.cozyscubaclub.com or www.cozyhotels.mv for bookings and further information.
 

Raja, a young and cheeky tiger first identified in 2022, swings her huge tail towards the camera enabling us to capture a unique perspective (Nikon Z8, Nikon AF-S 8–15mm f/3.5–4 Fisheye, SEACAM housing, f/14, 1/250s, ISO 400)
 

About the Authors: Based in Melbourne, Australia, Anita Verde and Peter Marshall have a passion for the planet’s wild places, and through their images and narratives hope to inspire better appreciation and protection of the natural world. When not underwater, you’ll find them on a mountain somewhere. To see more of their work, please visit their website, www.summitstoseasphotography.com.