The Over Under with Paul Dabill

Jupiter-based photographer Paul Dabill focuses his lens above and below the surface to reveal a side of our local waters few of us ever see

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Paul Dabill. Photo by Steven Martine
Paul Dabill. Photo by Steven Martine

Diving above an offshore shipwreck with a snorkel, mask, and fins, Paul Dabill surfaced with the amberjack he had been hoping to spear—and the realization that he wasn’t the only apex predator nearby.

“My buddy said, ‘Oh my God, there’s a great white shark,’” Dabill recalls. Curious, he slipped back into the water. “I put the fish I shot on the boat and got back to where my buddy saw the shark,” he says. “And sure enough, it was right there.”

Mullet Mania: During South Florida’s fall mullet run, Dabill found himself surrounded by a massive school of mullet as a tarpon prepared to feed. “I followed closely behind as it zeroed in on the school, capturing the split second just before it struck,” he says.
Mullet Mania: During South Florida’s fall mullet run, Dabill found himself surrounded by a massive school of mullet as a tarpon prepared to feed. “I followed closely behind as it zeroed in on the school, capturing the split second just before it struck,” he says.

For many people, spotting one of the ocean’s most feared predators would be reason enough to call it a day. For Dabill, it was just another of many unforgettable encounters across nearly two decades spent exploring—and documenting—the marine life just offshore of Palm Beach County.

Since moving to Jupiter from Minnesota in 2002 to operate a Jimmy John’s Sandwiches franchise with his brother Tom, Dabill has embraced South Florida’s waters with the same enthusiasm he once reserved for the outdoors back home. After the brothers sold their five stores in 2024, he devoted even more time to his lifelong interests in photography, videography, and the ocean.

Tooth or Dare: Photographed among the remnants of the old Palm Beach Pier, this sheepshead flashes a smile for the camera. “Sheepshead are known for their unusual, almost human-like teeth, which they use to crush hard-shelled prey,” Dabill says. “From this angle, the toothy grin gives the fish an unexpectedly human and comical expression.”
Tooth or Dare: Photographed among the remnants of the old Palm Beach Pier, this sheepshead flashes a smile for the camera. “Sheepshead are known for their unusual, almost human-like teeth, which they use to crush hard-shelled prey,” Dabill says. “From this angle, the toothy grin gives the fish an unexpectedly human and comical expression.”

Whether he’s freediving over reefs and wrecks, drifting through schools of fish, or flying a drone high above the coastline, Dabill is driven by one goal: capturing moments most people never have the chance to witness. Those moments have found an audience. Since launching his social media presence in 2012, Dabill has attracted more than 600,000 followers on Facebook and more than 50,000 on Instagram, all eager to experience South Florida’s underwater world through his lens. But his images do more than inspire awe—they’re also contributing to marine science.

He admits to having “a little bit of concern” being so close to that rarely spotted great white shark. Reality proved less daunting. The predator’s behavior was similar to other sharks Dabill has encountered with increasing frequency since he began freediving around 2009. He proceeds cautiously—and opts to stay out of the water with swordfish, which he considers the most dangerous species in local waters—but with eager curiosity.

Shell Game: A green sea turtle glides over the rock piles off Singer Island, revealing the remarkable colors and patterns of its shell. From above, the intricate markings and warm tones of the carapace are especially striking. “It’s a beautiful example of the natural detail that can easily go unnoticed until you see these animals up close,” Dabill notes.
Shell Game: A green sea turtle glides over the rock piles off Singer Island, revealing the remarkable colors and patterns of its shell. From above, the intricate markings and warm tones of the carapace are especially striking. “It’s a beautiful example of the natural detail that can easily go unnoticed until you see these animals up close,” Dabill notes.

When Dabill shared his video of the great white shark online, researchers at the Atlantic White Shark Conservancy reached out to compare the animal’s markings against their database. “It turned out that shark hadn’t been previously identified,” he explains. He was given the chance to name the shark—Trenton in honor of his 8-year-old son.

Trenton’s twin sister, London, also has a sea creature named for her—leaving only 12-year-old Gigi without an underwater namesake. London, the 9-foot-wide juvenile female manta ray, was being studied but hadn’t yet been photographed by the Florida Manta Project. Dabill had posted videos of the ray when Jessica Pate, founder of the conservation and awareness organization, conducting the first long-term study of manta rays in the continental United States, reached out. His drone footage helped Pate’s team positively identify and photograph the creature for the first time.

Flash Mob: A school of tarpon passes just off the beach at Singer Island—their large, reflective scales flashing in the sunlight. Often called the “Silver King,” tarpon are a familiar sight along this stretch of Florida’s coast. Schools can often be seen moving in and out of the local inlets or migrating along the coastline.
Flash Mob: A school of tarpon passes just off the beach at Singer Island—their large, reflective scales flashing in the sunlight. Often called the “Silver King,” tarpon are a familiar sight along this stretch of Florida’s coast. Schools can often be seen moving in and out of the local inlets or migrating along the coastline.

“Citizen scientists like Paul are critical to our work,” Pate says. “They provide [important] information about the spatial distribution of manta rays. It’s always a special treat to find someone like Paul who is always out with his drone and wants to share data supporting conservation.”

Dabill discovered the power of drone photography while temporarily living in a condominium on Juno Beach as he and his wife, Joy, built a new home in Tequesta. Flying nearly every day, he began seeing the coastline from an entirely different perspective.

Split Decision: An over/under image offers a glimpse into two worlds, with a school of mullet below the surface and the buildings of Singer Island rising in the background. “Each fall, enormous schools of mullet migrate along the coastline, creating one of the most action-packed times of the year in South Florida’s waters,” Dabill says. “This perspective captures the incredible amount of marine life moving just offshore from a heavily populated coastline.”
Split Decision: An over/under image offers a glimpse into two worlds, with a school of mullet below the surface and the buildings of Singer Island rising in the background. “Each fall, enormous schools of mullet migrate along the coastline, creating one of the most action-packed times of the year in South Florida’s waters,” Dabill says. “This perspective captures the incredible amount of marine life moving just offshore from a heavily populated coastline.”

“On my drone, I followed massive schools of jack crevalle and tarpon,” he says. “I saw manatees and hammerhead sharks and leatherback turtles and all kinds of stuff going on. The ocean is dynamic, constantly changing, and I’m able to film all the activity with my drone.”

Those aerial views have become more than striking imagery; Dabill has found them to be an ideal way to document fish migrations and rapidly changing conditions around local inlets that can help boaters navigate safely. “The drone is a great tool to see where sandbars are when you’re navigating around there,” he says.

Crowd Control: During the summer months, large schools of baitfish gather in the shallow waters along the local coastline, including around artificial reefs in just 20 to 30 feet of water. In this image, a solitary snook rests beneath a massive school of baitfish circling overhead. “Sunlight streams through the opening and illuminates the snook below, creating one of those scenes where everything seems to come together at just the right moment,” Dabill says.
Crowd Control: During the summer months, large schools of baitfish gather in the shallow waters along the local coastline, including around artificial reefs in just 20 to 30 feet of water. In this image, a solitary snook rests beneath a massive school of baitfish circling overhead. “Sunlight streams through the opening and illuminates the snook below, creating one of those scenes where everything seems to come together at just the right moment,” Dabill says.

Local inlets are among his favorite places to photograph. “They’re a magnet for marine activity,” he says. “The Jupiter Inlet is just stacked full of snook. There are goliath groupers and cubera snapper. I’ve found so many amazing species.”

For those who prefer to admire marine life from dry land, Dabill’s work is becoming more accessible than ever. Dabill is publishing Ocean Life, Underwater Worlds, a 2027 calendar with the Loggerhead Marinelife Center in Juno Beach. Produced by Omnidon Productions, the calendar is the organization’s first in Florida, and a portion of proceeds will support Loggerhead’s sea turtle rehabilitation and ocean conservation efforts. Still, no printed image can fully replicate the feeling that keeps drawing Dabill back into the water.

Wrecking Crew: Goliath groupers patrol local shipwrecks that they call home. In this image, one cruises in front of a wreck while snook and schools of baitfish share the surrounding water. “These wrecks create an incredible gathering place for marine life, from tiny baitfish to some of the largest groupers in the Atlantic,” Dabill says.
Wrecking Crew: Goliath groupers patrol local shipwrecks that they call home. In this image, one cruises in front of a wreck while snook and schools of baitfish share the surrounding water. “These wrecks create an incredible gathering place for marine life, from tiny baitfish to some of the largest groupers in the Atlantic,” Dabill says.

“I feel fortunate,” he says. “I was able to take my interest in photography and digital cameras and being creative and merge it with the marine environment.”

Luckily for the rest of us, Dabill’s photographs bring that hidden world to the surface—revealing the remarkable wildlife, unexpected encounters, and vibrant marine life thriving just beyond our shoreline. 

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