Hunting for Visibility in La Jolla: From Harbor Seals to Sea Lions
Some days you have a plan. Other days, the ocean laughs at it. I headed down to Children's Pool hoping to photograph the harbor seals. Conditions looked decent enough from shore, but shortly after I entered the water, a massive cleanup set rolled through, chasing most people out, stirring up the bottom, and turning already marginal visibility into soup (see photo 1, lol). Rather than calling it a day, I decided to keep swimming and pointed my fins toward the kelp forest off Shell Beach, hoping to salvage the morning.
No such luck. Visibility in the kelp was somehow even worse… maybe two feet at best. The water felt a bit cleaner, with less suspended sediment, but there simply wasn't enough light or clarity to photograph or see much of anything. So I changed plans again and kept swimming toward La Jolla Cove, hoping the sea lions might be active.
They definitely didn't disappoint. There were sea lions everywhere, including the massive adult bull that's been hanging around the area recently. Watching a full-grown male cruise effortlessly through the water alongside a group of smaller sea lions is always impressive. For a while, I just floated, watching them interact and waiting for photographic opportunities to unfold naturally. Sometimes that's all wildlife photography is… being patient enough for the ocean to decide what happens next.
After spending time with the colony, I made my way over to the sea caves. I used to spend a lot of time in these caves nearly twenty years ago, but I hadn't really ventured back for a good exploration in years. It was surprisingly nostalgic swimming through them again. Little swim-throughs, hidden corners, and passages I'd long forgotten slowly came back to me. The caves still have the same atmosphere that fascinated me all those years ago. The light fades, colors shift, and every opening feels like it might reveal something unexpected.
Inside one of the caves, I found a composition I really liked, but it needed either a sea lion or a person to complete the frame. The sea lions had other ideas, so when I ran into a couple of snorkelers, I asked if either would mind diving down for a silhouette. Sierra happily volunteered, and the images ended up becoming some of my favorites from the day. I love silhouette photographs because they strip away the details, leaving only shape, light, and a sense of place.
Before heading in, I also spent some time tracking a group of Garibaldi. I've been chasing the perfect Garibaldi photograph for years. They're such an iconic Southern California fish, but getting multiple individuals arranged just right, all facing the camera, in acceptably clear water, and all in focus is surprisingly brutal. I thought I finally had it, but unfortunately, my depth of field was just a little too shallow, leaving only one fish tack sharp while the others drifted softly out of focus. Guess I'll have to keep trying.
The cormorants were busy all morning as well. A few swam close enough to investigate me before continuing their hunt—always one of my favorite underwater encounters. By the time I finally climbed out at La Jolla Cove, I realized I still had nearly a mile to walk back to my truck on the other side of Children's Pool. I should have just entered at the Cove in the first place!
That's the beauty of wildlife photography. You can head into the water with a plan, but the ocean doesn't care. Some days it gives you exactly what you came for. Other days it gives you something even better. A day that starts with two feet of visibility and ends with sea lions, forgotten caves, inquisitive cormorants, and an unexpected silhouette portrait is still a massive win.
If you're looking to book an underwater portrait session, need scientific or conservation-focused marine imagery, or want to collaborate on a Southern California wildlife project, feel free to reach out through my contact page.