We’ve caught wind that the spotter pilot, employed to improve the skipper’s odds of finding wildlife whilst on tour, has found a baitball. I’m grinning from ear to ear and once again struggling to come to terms with the fact that this is my job and I’m about to photograph the most electrifying thing one can possibly experience in the ocean.

I was lucky enough to work as an underwater photographer for a season on the Ningaloo Reef last year. Located approximately halfway up the coast of Western Australia, this almost 300km long fringing reef is sandwiched between the desolate scrub of the Pilbara and the deep plankton-rich waters of the continental shelf. Ningaloo is an Aboriginal word meaning deep water, and it’s this – combined with its calm shallow bays – that make it one of the best places in the world for photographing marine megafauna.

The skipper gives the call for us to start getting ready – we must be approaching the baitball. I grab my mask and fins, strap my weight belt around my waist and give my camera housing the final once over to check for leaks before taking the plunge. The intoxicating anticipation of what’s to come surges over me as I turn my camera on and do my best to predict the settings needed once I’m in the water.