Shooting Anthias in the Red Sea: A Photographer’s Guide to Color, Chaos, and Character

Anthias are the Red Sea’s most striking fish—you see them before you see the reef. They swirl, dart, flicker, and vanish in a microsecond. They’re tiny, especially compared to the vast reef, but when I think of the Red Sea, I think of the Anthias. They are its symbol, its story. And if you want to come back with a portfolio that truly showcases the destination, Anthias should be high on your shot list.

There’s one major reason they’re so appealing to shoot: their color. Anthias are bright orange—a hue that sits opposite blue on the color wheel—so they look spectacular when set against the deep blue waters of the Red Sea.

They also add movement to a scene. Corals, especially hard corals, don’t move, so these schooling fish bring a dynamic energy to your reef shots. They dart in and out of the frame, allowing you to use their motion to enhance your images.

But for me, it’s when you switch to a macro lens that you really begin to see their character—and just how stunning they are as individuals. They make incredible fish portrait subjects and are surprisingly cooperative for both wide-angle and macro shooting once you understand how to work with them.

Let’s dive into what makes these fish so special, how to find them, and how to finally do justice to them.

The Biology Behind the Beauty

Anthias aren’t a single species but a group within the subfamily Anthiinae, part of the larger Serranidae family, which also includes groupers and sea bass. In the Red Sea, the most iconic and abundant species is Pseudanthias squamipinnis, commonly known as the lyretail Anthias.

Here’s where it gets interesting: Anthias are protogynous hermaphrodites, which means they’re all born female. In each group, a dominant female will transition into a male when needed. That transition doesn’t just change the fish’s sex—it changes its color, its behavior, and its role within the social structure of the shoal.

Female Anthias are a vibrant orange with translucent fins. Males, by contrast, have electric purple backs, elongated dorsal fins, and deeper bodies—almost an entirely different fish in silhouette and pattern. Often, it’s the females with their bold orange pop that work best for side-angle shots, but the males can make incredible portrait subjects due to their decadence and striking features.

Where to Find Them in the Red Sea

You don’t really find Anthias in the Red Sea—they find you. But there are sites where they absolutely dominate the water column.

Head to Ras Mohammed—particularly Shark & Yolanda Reef—and you’ll be swimming through clouds of them. The same goes for the pinnacles at Daedalus or the deep coral drop-offs at Elphinstone. The closer the structure is to deep water, and the more current washing over it, the more Anthias you’ll see. They thrive in plankton-rich flow.

For shore dives, look for high-relief coral formations around 10–20 meters (33–66 feet), especially those with overhangs and vertical walls. That’s where water movement delivers food—and where the fish can quickly dart into shelter.

They don’t like flat reefs. They love drama. And luckily, that’s exactly what we want in our images too.

Shooting Anthias in Coral Formations: Manage the Chaos

At first glance, Anthias don’t seem like cooperative models. They’re twitchy, rapid-fire, and move like a school of hummingbirds. The classic “reef explosion” shot—a coral head enveloped in a pulse of orange life—is what most photographers aim for. But if you just wait for that to happen naturally, you’ll be in for a long wait. Luckily, there’s a secret to getting this iconic shot.

Here’s how I approach it: Pick your coral head and hover next to it. I choose mine from a distance when I see that telltale orange haze around a bommie and also spot an appealing background—like a reef wall—to create a clean black silhouette behind the bommie and the Anthias. Expose for the blue water using your shutter speed to control its brightness. I usually start around 1/160 at f/13, ISO 320, and adjust depending on the shade of blue I’m aiming for. Then, take a test shot to check your strobe exposure and ensure even lighting across the frame, adjusting as needed.

Now for the magic: With your camera to your eye and the shot composed, take a huge, noisy breath out—make it as loud and aggressive as you can. The Anthias will instantly dart into the coral, pause for a second or two, and then re-emerge in perfect formation, creating that signature orange haze around the bommie. Shoot at the peak of the action. You can repeat this technique as often as you need.

Anthias aren’t the subject—they’re the movement, the mood, the texture of the scene. You’re not just shooting fish. They create a symmetrical glow in your frame and make the image feel much more alive.

Fish Portraits with a Macro Lens: Finding the Male

Photographing a single Anthias is an exercise in patience—especially if you’re going for a male. They’re rarer, more aggressive, and incredibly territorial. But that territorial nature also makes them easier to track.

Here’s what I look for: deeper color and an elongated dorsal fin. Males typically hang slightly farther off the reef and are often seen chasing females back into position. They have predictable movement—doing loops and patrols repeatedly in the same area. If you watch long enough, you’ll see the pattern. I often look for a good background first, then wait for a suitable subject to start patrolling that space.

The male Anthias isn’t shy. He’s quite bold. The longer you stay in one spot, the less bothered he’ll be by your presence—and the bolder he’ll get in his movements.

I shoot macro with a 90mm lens. The waters of Egypt are very clear, so you can get away with using a slightly longer macro lens, which gives you a bit more distance from the subject. Autofocus is key here. You’ll likely be shooting with wider apertures to create softer, more appealing backgrounds. I rely on my camera’s technology—setting it to wide zone with eye detect on—and then just letting it do its thing. Not every photo will be tack-sharp, but today’s cameras are so good that most will be perfectly usable.

Using a shallow depth of field really helps your subject pop from the background. Combine that with a fast shutter speed to freeze movement. I’m often shooting at f/5.6, low ISO, and 1/250. Relax and enjoy the moment—with patience, you’ll capture what others assume was a lucky shot. You’ll get clean side-profile shots with the dorsal fin raised, and my personal favorite: a side-angled composition with one eye looking into the camera and all fins flared.

If you want a black background, just stop down the aperture to block ambient light and angle your strobes more inward. I don’t mind the black background shots, but I prefer to burn in some soft, natural background using a faster aperture.

With both black backgrounds and shallow depth of field shots, you’ll need to manage ambient light. The Red Sea is bright and sunny, so the best time of day for these portraits is often the last dive—when the light is lower and the fish are more active. Shooting Anthias portraits in the late afternoon, after an incredible day of diving the Red Sea, is one of the most enjoyable things I can imagine doing underwater.

Slow Shutter: Elevating Backgrounds and Movement

Anthias are the perfect subject for creative, impressionistic slow-shutter work. When using slow shutter speeds, we’re often trying to convey motion—and these little guys are constantly darting in and out of the reef, making them ideal candidates for this technique.

My favorite approach is an extension of the portrait work I described earlier: shooting them as macro portraits, but with longer exposures that bring a sense of movement into the frame. Set yourself up just as before—find a nice, cooperative male—but this time, it’s ideal if he’s positioned well off the reef. You want him in the water column so you don’t have to worry about your strobe lighting up the background.

Late afternoon dives are perfect again, as we need to manage ambient light when opening up the shutter to allow more light into the frame.

Start by setting your camera to ISO LOW and f/18. Then slow your shutter speed to something like ¼ second. Take a test shot and check your blues—adjust your exposure to avoid overexposing the background.

Shoot similarly to the portrait technique, but decide how you want to introduce the blur: from the fish’s natural motion or from moving the camera. I prefer to move the camera. To do this, set the flash sync to first curtain, which means the flash fires at the beginning of the exposure. That initial burst freezes the subject as you’ve composed it. As soon as you press the shutter, move the camera sideways—away and in front of the subject. This leaves a blur trailing behind. If the blur appears in front of the subject, you’re either panning the wrong way or your flash is set to rear curtain sync. Adjust accordingly.

If instead you want the fish’s motion to create the blur, switch to rear curtain sync and hold the camera still during the exposure. The flash will fire at the end, freezing the subject’s final position. This method yields fewer successful frames in my experience, but some prefer it because they’re not introducing motion blur by jerking the camera.

If you’re not seeing enough motion blur, try slowing the shutter speed further—sometimes I go as low as 1 second—or increase the speed at which you move the camera.

The two biggest mistakes I see:

1. Not using enough strobe power. Don’t be shy—if the entire image is blurry, you probably haven’t used enough light to freeze the subject. Crank up the strobes.

2. Uncontrolled light spill. Remember, wherever your strobe light falls, that part of the frame will be frozen. Make sure you’re not lighting unintended areas.

Not every shot will work—in fact, most won’t. But when it clicks, it’s magic. It’s a game of patience and experimentation, and the reward is a frame that feels alive with motion.

Ethics and Impact: Don’t Be a Bully with a Camera

Anthias may be hardy, but they’re not invincible—and their reactive nature means careless behavior can easily stress the entire shoal.

Don’t chase. Ever. You won’t get the shot, and you’ll disrupt their feeding patterns. Watch your fins—hovering too close can cause coral damage, especially if you’re waiting in one place for a long time. Be mindful of your buoyancy and backwash. Avoid using your hands for support on the reef; instead, practice and refine your neutral buoyancy in a controlled setting so you're ready when the moment comes.

The best Anthias images come not from pursuit, but from patience. Staying still and letting them return to their patterns is what brings those clean compositions and expressive behaviors into your frame.

Final Thoughts: Why Photographing Anthias is Worth the Effort

Photographing Anthias forces you to rethink your approach. It demands observation, stillness, and humility. It teaches patience and the art of anticipation. But when you finally nail the shot—that pulse of color arcing over hard coral beneath the Red Sea sun—it’s like capturing the reef’s very essence in a single frame.

They’re not the biggest, or the rarest. But in many ways, Anthias are the heartbeat of the Red Sea. And that story deserves to be told.