The Price of Paradise: Rethinking the Business of Diving (Part 1)

This article is Part 1 of a two-part series. Part 2 will follow in the next issue of Inside Scuba.

We talk a great deal about protecting the oceans that sustain diving. But what about the people whose livelihoods depend on them?

Sustainability is one of the most important conversations in scuba diving. We advocate for healthier reefs, responsible tourism, marine conservation, and protecting the ecosystems that make our industry possible. We encourage divers to consider their environmental impact and support initiatives that preserve the underwater world for future generations.

Yet there's another dimension of sustainability that receives considerably less attention: the people who dedicate their lives to this profession.

Can an industry truly call itself sustainable if the people who make it possible cannot build safe, respected, and financially viable careers?

Behind every extraordinary dive is a network of professionals whose work rarely appears in the photographs. Instructors, Divemasters, captains, boat crews, technicians, and business owners make these experiences possible. Their expertise, judgment, and dedication are essential to the industry's success, yet the conditions in which they work often receive far less attention than the environments they help us explore.

Recent allegations of sexual harassment and assault within the diving and ecotourism industries have brought difficult conversations into public view. Behind these reports are people sharing deeply personal experiences, sometimes at considerable emotional and professional cost. Their willingness to speak deserves compassion, serious attention, and more than a brief moment of concern on social media.

Alongside these accounts, broader conversations have emerged about toxic workplaces, questionable employment practices, inadequate compensation, and the treatment of dive professionals. Throughout my career, I've worked with exceptional colleagues and business owners who genuinely care about their employees, customers, and professional standards. I've also witnessed poor working conditions, exploitative compensation practices, and inappropriate workplace behavior that have made me question how such practices became normalized in an industry built on trust, professionalism, and safety.

These issues differ significantly in nature and severity, and sexual harassment and assault demand particular attention. Nevertheless, they raise important questions about the professional culture of an industry so many of us love.

My intention isn't to investigate individual allegations or suggest these problems exist in every dive operation. I want to examine the working conditions and professional expectations that shape our industry, including the responsibilities we share in improving them.

These conversations should concern everyone who loves scuba diving, not just those of us who have made it our profession.

Diving is a profession built on trust. Students place their safety in the hands of instructors, guests depend on guides and crews to make sound decisions, and professionals rely on colleagues to communicate effectively and respect appropriate boundaries. When that trust is violated through sexual harassment, assault, or other misconduct, the consequences can extend far beyond the immediate experience.

Our industry has characteristics that can make reporting misconduct especially difficult. Students depend on instructors for training and certification. New professionals often rely on established colleagues for mentorship, employment, and opportunities to advance. Employees working in remote destinations or aboard liveaboards may have limited options for removing themselves from an unsafe or uncomfortable situation.

Consider a newly certified instructor who experiences inappropriate behavior from someone responsible for scheduling their work or influencing their professional development. Reporting that behavior may feel like risking the career they've invested years in building. In a relatively small professional community, reputations travel quickly, and professional relationships often extend well beyond a single workplace.

A 2025 survey published by the Business of Diving Institute gathered responses from 1,066 divers and dive professionals. Among respondents, 35% reported experiencing sexual harassment in a diving environment, including 47% of women and 42% of dive professionals. [1]

The findings surrounding accountability are particularly concerning. Among respondents who experienced harassment, 87% identified a dive professional as at least one perpetrator. Only 9% reported an incident to authorities, and among those who reported their own harassment to a dive training agency, just 5% considered the agency's response satisfactory. [1]

The survey did not establish how many respondents were harassed by a direct supervisor or employer. However, the accompanying accounts raised concerns about abuses of power involving instructors, dive shop owners, and others in positions of authority. Participants described fears of professional consequences, inadequate organizational responses, and environments where inappropriate behavior was perceived as tolerated.

These findings come from a voluntary, self-selected survey and cannot establish the prevalence of harassment throughout the global diving industry. Nevertheless, the experiences documented raise serious questions about professional authority, reporting mechanisms, and the confidence people have in those responsible for addressing misconduct.

The survey also highlighted uncertainty about existing protections. Among dive professionals surveyed, 36% did not know whether their training agency had a sexual harassment policy, while 28% of respondents working for dive businesses did not know whether their employer had one. [1] Written policies are important, but their existence alone doesn't guarantee that people feel safe using them. Employees and students need to understand how to report concerns and trust that doing so won't jeopardize their careers, training, or professional relationships.

Sexual harassment and sexual assault are distinct forms of misconduct, and allegations involving either require serious attention. People who come forward deserve to be heard, treated with dignity, and supported through meaningful processes for addressing their concerns. Organizations have a responsibility to take reports seriously, protect individuals from retaliation, and respond appropriately when misconduct is identified.

Leadership is central to that responsibility. When inappropriate behavior involves someone with professional influence or authority, addressing it can become particularly difficult. The responsibility for creating safer workplaces cannot rest solely on those who have already experienced harm.

I've also been struck by the contradictory expectations placed on women in diving. Women can find themselves judged or sexualized for wearing bikinis, and I've witnessed a woman teaching scuba while wearing a hijab face scrutiny over her clothing as well. Whether a woman chooses a bikini, a wetsuit, or more modest attire tells us nothing about her qualifications, instructional ability, or professional judgment. Clothing is never an invitation for harassment or unwanted contact.

As a Course Director, I think about these responsibilities when preparing future instructors. Teaching standards and evaluating instructional presentations are essential parts of professional development, but so are ethical judgment, appropriate boundaries, and understanding the responsibility that comes with being entrusted with another person's safety.

There's an important contradiction worth examining. We teach divers to recognize hazards, communicate concerns, and intervene when something is wrong. We emphasize that safety depends on speaking up, even when doing so is uncomfortable. Yet those same principles can be considerably harder to practice when the concern involves a colleague, supervisor, or respected figure within the industry.

An industry that expects people to speak up about safety underwater should be equally committed to making it safe for them to speak up about misconduct on land.

Few professions offer the experiences that diving does. We work in extraordinary places, encounter remarkable marine life, and introduce people to moments they may remember for the rest of their lives. A photograph of an instructor surrounded by manta rays or a boat crew preparing for another day along a tropical coastline hardly resembles the conventional image of going to work.

I understand the appeal because I experience it myself. After thousands of dives, I still find tremendous joy in the ocean and in sharing it with others. But photographs rarely capture the full reality of the work.

Before guests arrive, equipment must be prepared, cylinders filled, boats inspected, reservations coordinated, and conditions assessed. Instructors prepare lessons and communicate with students. Divemasters and crew members load gear, assist customers, and manage logistics. Captains carry responsibility for vessel operations, navigation, weather decisions, and passenger safety.

When the diving ends, equipment still needs to be cleaned and maintained, documentation completed, customers assisted, and preparations made for the following day. For many professionals, these responsibilities begin early in the morning and extend well beyond the hours spent underwater.

The same applies to dive travel. Organizing an international expedition can involve months of research, negotiations, reservations, marketing, and coordination with travelers and local operators. Once the trip begins, the person leading it may spend much of their time managing logistics, resolving problems, and ensuring guests receive the experience they were promised. Complimentary accommodations or airfare may be part of an arrangement, but those benefits need to be considered alongside the time, responsibility, and financial risk involved.

Loving the work doesn't make it any less demanding, and working somewhere beautiful doesn't change the value of someone's time or expertise. The perception of diving as a dream job can obscure the distinction between enjoying what we do and being adequately compensated for doing it.

Those two things should be able to coexist.

Becoming a dive professional requires a substantial investment. Training, equipment, travel, professional memberships, liability insurance, and continuing education can amount to thousands of dollars. Advancing through professional ratings requires additional experience and skills that extend well beyond recreational diving.

We should want professionals who are properly trained, experienced, and committed to maintaining their knowledge. The more difficult question is whether the opportunities available within the industry consistently support the careers we're encouraging people to pursue.

Compensation arrangements vary considerably. Some professionals receive salaries or hourly wages, while others are paid per course, student, charter, or dive. Independent instructors establish their own pricing but assume additional expenses and business responsibilities. Even within the same destination, two instructors performing similar work may have very different financial arrangements.

When I first became an instructor, I was fortunate to have another career that allowed me to teach without relying on diving as my primary income. After working 45 to 60 hours during the week, I would drive three hours to a training site, stay overnight, teach throughout the weekend, and return home Sunday.

I was compensated for the hours I spent actively teaching, but not for the preparation, travel, and other responsibilities surrounding those classes. I loved the experience and gained a tremendous amount from it, but I could afford that arrangement because I had another source of income. Had I depended entirely on my earnings as an instructor, the financial picture would have been very different.

Throughout my career, conversations with fellow dive professionals have revealed a recurring concern: financial insecurity and uncertainty about the long-term viability of working in this industry.

Many colleagues have shared frustrations about inconsistent earnings, limited opportunities for advancement, and the lack of employment benefits that are commonplace in other professions. Access to healthcare, paid time off, retirement contributions, and financial protection during periods of illness or injury can be limited or nonexistent, particularly for seasonal, part-time, and independent professionals.

These are talented, experienced individuals who genuinely love what they do. Yet many have questioned whether they can afford to continue doing it. When those conversations become familiar among people who have invested years developing their expertise, I believe we should pay attention.

Equally concerning is an attitude I've encountered in some workplaces: the expectation that dive professionals should simply be grateful for the opportunity to do what they love.

There's an important difference between appreciating the opportunity to work in an extraordinary environment and feeling indebted to an employer for providing a job. Dive professionals bring training, experience, technical expertise, and considerable responsibility to their work. Their contributions have value regardless of how beautiful the destination may be.

A workplace culture that places too much emphasis on gratitude can also make it harder for employees to raise legitimate concerns. Questioning compensation, scheduling, management decisions, or working conditions shouldn't automatically be interpreted as a lack of appreciation or commitment.

Diving attracts professionals with very different financial circumstances, and there's nothing wrong with teaching part-time for supplemental income. I did exactly that. The challenge arises when compensation arrangements that are manageable for someone with another source of income become the prevailing expectation for everyone. Someone equally qualified, dedicated, and passionate may simply be unable to afford the same opportunity.

Compensation should also account for the responsibilities involved. Course preparation, student communication, equipment handling, briefings, cleanup, and administrative work are necessary parts of providing quality instruction. Depending on the employment relationship and applicable labor laws, some of that time may also be legally compensable.

Not every low-paying position is evidence of exploitation. Local economic conditions, business expenses, employment classifications, and individual circumstances all matter. Nevertheless, enthusiasm for diving shouldn't become a reason to overlook the full amount of work a position requires.

Experienced instructors and Divemasters contribute institutional knowledge, mentorship, and judgment that cannot always be replaced simply by training someone new. When talented professionals begin questioning whether they can afford to remain in diving, the concern extends beyond their individual careers.

We should be asking what their departure would mean for the industry itself.

Continued in Part 2: In the next issue, we look at the complicated role of gratuities, when working conditions become a safety issue, the financial realities of running a dive business, and what it would take to build a profession people can stay in. Read Part 2 here.

[1] Business of Diving Institute. (2025). Sexual Harassment in the Scuba Diving Industry: Survey Results. https://www.businessofdiving.com/sexual-harassment-scuba-industry