São Miguel, the largest and most visited of the nine Azorean islands, serves as something of a gateway to the archipelago’s rich marine life. Its proximity to the mainland and exceptional opportunities for whale watching, scuba diving, and snorkeling make it a magnet for tourism. Year-round, sperm whales share these waters with dolphins, sharks, and mobulas, while spring welcomes the baleen whales—fin, blue, and humpback. Tourists flock from across the globe to experience these natural wonders, but with that comes both challenges and opportunities. The growing pressure on marine life and local infrastructure is undeniable, but it also offers a chance to foster greater awareness of the ocean’s treasures and mysteries.
We met Francisco Garcia, a São Miguel native and rising ocean photographer working with the Ocean Azores Foundation, and one who is deeply invested in preserving his home. After diving into some of the island’s iconic sites together, Francisco shared his insights on the interconnected nature of the nine islands and the steps needed to protect them. Each island boasts unique biodiversity and beauty, but Francisco stressed the importance of “intention” in experiencing the Azores. To him, truly connecting with these islands requires more than a quick visit for a photo op. It’s about taking the time to walk, dive, and immerse yourself in the land and sea. Only then can you begin to understand what makes the Azores truly so extraordinary.
A Home Base of the Azores
“Being brought up in the Azores means living side by side with nature. The ocean shapes every part of life here, from the landscapes to the culture and identity of the people. That deep bond with the sea is what first drew me to photography. When you’re surrounded by stunning sunsets, dramatic cliffs, and endless blue horizons, capturing those moments feels natural. Photography became my way of holding onto that sense of wonder and sharing it with others.
The Azores and the ocean are inseparable, bound by a unique energy that flows between land and sea. It’s a connection you feel everywhere, and it’s central to life here—it’s not just where I’m from but who I am. Diving in these waters reveals a whole other world. From tiny, darting fish to barracudas, triggerfish, and schools of curious amberjacks, the marine life here is alive with movement and energy. Some of my favorite encounters are with octopuses. Their intelligence and playfulness are unmatched, and when one climbs onto your arm, leading you to its hideaway, it feels like you’re being welcomed into their world.
Becoming an Ocean Photographer
My journey as an ocean photographer began when I started photographing surfers. I’d spend hours on the beach, taking hundreds of photos and slowly refining my skills. The surf community noticed my work, which gave me the confidence to keep going. Everything changed when I picked up an old GoPro and ventured into the water. Those first attempts were far from perfect—maybe one or two usable shots out of hundreds—but persistence paid off. Winning third place in a national surf photography competition gave me the momentum to invest in better gear, like a compact camera and water housing, opening up entirely new possibilities.
What began as something casual quickly grew into a passion for capturing the ocean in all its forms. Scuba diving, free diving, whale watching, kayaking and sailing—the Azores offer endless ways to experience the water, each connecting me with others who share this passion. With every upgrade—from GoPros to cameras with domes for split shots—my skills and opportunities evolved. The work started to pay for itself, leading to recognition in contests and exhibitions. One of my proudest moments was seeing my sperm whale and blue shark photos displayed as giant prints at the Ponta Delgada airport. Knowing that my images welcome people to the Azores is an indescribable feeling—it validates every effort and inspires me to keep going.
But really, it’s the ocean itself that drives me. There’s always something new to see, and even familiar encounters—like an octopus curiously exploring my gear or dolphins racing alongside a boat—never lose their magic. The ocean’s unpredictability is part of its allure. It can be calm and serene in summer or wild and untamed in winter, constantly offering new challenges and surprises. That sense of discovery and the promise of the unknown keep me coming back, year after year.
Changes Are Always Happening
But where there’s beauty, there’s always something that threatens it. Tourism can be a good and a bad thing, but how quickly it has grown here, and the popularity of these islands since my childhood has been a huge adjustment. Going back to the late 1990s and early 2000s, tourism was minimal, almost exclusive—something for wealthy travelers, eccentric adventurers, or scientists studying volcanism, fauna, or flora. Back then, the Azores felt like an untouched corner of the world.
Early tourism promotions leaned heavily on the islands’ landscapes: the crater lakes of Sete Cidades and Fogo, the peaks of Pico, or the dramatic cliffs of São Jorge. But in the past decade, there’s been a noticeable shift. The focus has turned to the ocean and I think that’s largely because of photography. Images of whale tails, dolphins swimming in vibrant blue waters, and encounters with whale sharks and manta rays now define the Azores’ identity. Photography opened up doors and inspired more people to want to come to the Azores because of the wild marine life.
In the past five years alone, the number of visitors has grown exponentially. It’s transformed the islands but also brought challenges, especially for the marine environment. Out on the water, I’ve seen animals change their behavior because of relentless boat traffic. Some days, they’re surrounded by vessels from sunrise to sunset. Certain dive spots, once rich with life, like that of Caloura, now feel like barren underwater deserts. In fact, I’ve never even bothered diving there because many of my friends say it’s not worth it anymore.
Overfishing also plays a huge role. This past summer, with perfect weather day after day, fishermen were out constantly, catching everything they could. But by the end of the season, there wasn’t much left. People often focus on what they can get today without thinking about tomorrow. We’ve seen in other places that when you protect certain areas, marine life thrives—and in the long run, everyone, including fishermen, benefits.
In my line of work, respecting the wildlife is non-negotiable. They dictate the encounter, not us. I’ve witnessed situations where people crowd whales or marine life, and it’s clear the animals are stressed. Once, while diving with a whale shark off Pico, there were 14 people swarming the animal. It felt wrong, chaotic, and disrespectful. Those moments stick with you. For me, the well-being of the animals always comes first. Choosing responsible operators—those who prioritize the comfort of the animals over profit—makes all the difference. It changes the entire meaning of the photograph, knowing it was taken in harmony with the natural world.
A History of Whaling
Tourism wasn’t always the dominant business around here. In fact, the first calling to these islands was for a far more nefarious cause. Whaling was once deeply woven into the identity of the Azores and was once a vital part of their survival. Starting in the late 16th or early 17th century, Azoreans hunted whales from small, fragile boats to support their families, a practice that endured until whaling officially ended here in 1987. This industry shaped not only the local economy but also the culture, skills, and traditions that defined ocean communities across the islands.
Interestingly, many of the techniques developed during the whaling era have transitioned and become incorporated into today’s tourism. The vigias, or lookouts used to spot whales from shore and direct boats to them, are still used—now to guide whale-watching tours instead of hunts. This shift is a powerful testament to the Azorean people’s ability to adapt and find ways to coexist with the whales, valuing them for education, conservation, and sustainable tourism rather than exploitation.
Each island developed its own unique relationship with the industry. Pico became a hub for boat building and whaling activities, while São Miguel shifted toward industrial-scale operations with factories built to process whales. Though never as industrialized as whaling in Japan or Norway, the Azores relied on this practice to sustain local economies in an unforgiving environment.
Whaling may be a thing of the past here, but its legacy is alive in the Azores’ relationship with the ocean. The transition from whaling to tourism has been quite the transformation—a way of moving to whale watching, scuba diving, free diving, snorkeling, and any other method that gets us in the water to see animals in their habitat versus harvesting them. It’s been a drastic and necessary change for the Azores.
The Rise of Social Media
And in more modern times, the single biggest change I’ve personally seen has been the impact of social media on how people interact with nature, wildlife and marine ecosystems. Platforms like Instagram have reshaped priorities, often placing the perfect shot above the well-being of animals. As a professional ocean photographer, I’ve witnessed both responsible and irresponsible behaviors. Some people will chase animals or get dangerously close to capture that coveted moment without considering the stress they’re causing. But wildlife photography isn’t about likes or attention; it’s about respect, patience, and ensuring the animals remain undisturbed in their natural environment.
Here in the Azores, we work hard to promote responsible interactions. As the lead photographer for the Ocean Azores Foundation, I create images for conservation—content that reduces the need for multiple teams to visit the islands chasing the same shots. Strict local regulations also help: swimming with whales is prohibited without a license, and every application undergoes rigorous review to ensure it’s for valid scientific or conservation purposes.
Still, challenges persist. Whale Watching Tourism is booming, for example. In some cases, I’ve made the tough decision to leave a site, even with a full boat of passengers, due to the stresses of overcrowding. On land, most people do understand when it’s explained to them. But underwater, it’s a different story. When 15 divers surround a whale shark, everyone is too focused on their own experience to see the collective harm being done. Responsible photography requires a shift in mindset—one that prioritizes the animals and the ecosystem over personal gain.
The Ocean Azores Foundation
The Ocean Azores Foundation is a way to help further educate. We’re dedicated to protecting the incredible biodiversity of these islands, from tiny fish and seabirds to the whales and dolphins that make the Azores so special. As nine islands in the middle of the Atlantic, the Azores are a vital stop for migratory species and home to unique marine ecosystems that need our attention now more than ever. The pressures of overfishing and mass tourism without regulations threaten to disrupt this delicate balance. My role with the foundation is to use photography to tell the stories of this place and its wildlife—to show people what we have here and why it’s worth protecting.
Photography has the power to inspire action, and we’ve seen it with tourism here on the islands. Sometimes, it’s about showcasing the beauty of a breaching whale or the curiosity of a dolphin pod, reminding people of the magic in these waters. Other times, it’s about exposing the darker realities, like ghost nets abandoned at sea, trapping fish and marine life for days. I’ve taken pictures of nets filled with dead fish and shared them to show what’s really happening. If those images can spark change—whether it’s someone altering their habits or policymakers enforcing stricter controls—that would be one of the greatest achievements of my life.
Despite how much the Azores offers, the region still struggles with enforcement. There’s not enough monitoring of fishing our tourism practices, of how long boats stay around animals, or of whether nets are even legal. We need stronger action to ensure these waters remain full of life for generations to come. My hope is that through storytelling and photography, we can create awareness and build a collective commitment to safeguarding this unique part of the world.
A Message to Visitors at the Peak of Tourism
These islands sit at the meeting point of three tectonic plates—African, Eurasian, and American—which creates a powerful, almost tangible energy flowing from the ground. There’s a sense of gravity and universal energy that makes walking through these islands feel like stepping into a different rhythm of life. To truly understand the Azores, you have to embrace our human connection to nature, from the smallest details to the grandest landscapes.
When diving or exploring here—or anywhere, really—the key is to respect what you find and leave things better than you found them. One small act can make a difference for an individual, and those ripples spread—to species, to ecosystems, and even to us as people. Even picking up a piece of trash, like a fishing line tangled on a rock, could prevent harm to a seabird or another marine animal. The Azores are a reminder that by taking care of these incredible places, we take care of the future for everything that depends on them, including ourselves.”