“When Notre Dame was burning, within hours, thousands of people were ready to help restore it. But when the greatest ecosystem on our planet is in crisis, people look away. No one cares. Only a handful of individuals fight for its survival – alone for the big blue.”
She took her first dive at just five years old. For 20 minutes, she remained underwater, as if she had never known another world. Her father watched proudly. Now, at 22, she can’t remember whether she learned to dive before she learned to walk, or the other way around.
The Roots of a Passion
Egypt, many years ago. Sand and dunes stretched endlessly before Gerald Zettel. In the heart of the desert, a small campsite became his sanctuary. The deal was simple – stay at the camp, and in return, dive with the local dive base. It was paradise. No roads, no buildings – only vast emptiness above water, and beneath the surface, an explosion of life. Corals, vibrant fish, sharks, and majestic whales. The Red Sea stole his heart and never let go. He became a scuba diving instructor and dive guide, turning passion into profession.
When his daughter was just eight months old, he brought her aboard a dive boat for the first time. By the time she was eight, she was taking her first dives in the Red Sea under his guidance, spending more time with fish than with people. Every dive sent waves of euphoria through her. The big blue became her playground – a kaleidoscope of colors and creatures, each one more unique than the last. Looking back, Carina considers herself lowkey spoiled, having had her first and most formative diving experiences in one of the world’s richest marine ecosystems.
A Challenge in Oman
Oman, 2021. Carina embarked on a journey that soon became one of the most challenging chapters of her life and diving career. The region was largely unexplored – its landscapes raw, its culture little known. She spent five months as the only woman in a remote village, working toward one of her goals: earning her Dive Master certification and becoming an instructor. The dive base, run by a German expatriate, was struggling to stay afloat. With Carina as its only employee, she took on roles far beyond her training – teaching theory courses, guiding dive tours, and managing international guests. She was thrown into untouched dive sites, where nature remained pristine and wild. Charting these new locations and turning them into official dive spots for the base filled her with exhilaration. Yet, amid the beauty, she uncovered an unsettling reality. The locals – many of whom didn’t even know how to swim – were unknowingly using destructive fishing methods. They had no idea of the underwater treasure they were harming. When the dive center faced closure, Carina turned to the one person she knew could help: her father. For two months, he joined her in Oman. They took turns leading dives, and he mentored her, ensuring she achieved her Dive Master and Instructor qualifications. Day by day, her skills sharpened, her expertise deepened, and her passion solidified.
A Call for Conservation
Oman, January 2022. A team of international marine biologists arrived at the dive base. Their mission: to study and document the region’s unknown underwater world. Carina became their guide, assisting with equipment, led them to the spots with the most vibrant marine life and to the reefs and caves she now knew like the back of her hand. When their research concluded, they had discovered an astonishing 19 new species – some of which would only be fully identified later, in distant laboratories. Shortly after, an underwater photographer arrived to capture this hidden marine paradise. Carina had the privilege of being his dive buddy, helping to explore and document the wonders beneath the waves.
Yet, even in this relatively untouched ecosystem, she saw the scars of human impact. Fishing cages – massive metal traps – were dragged across the seabed, indiscriminately capturing marine life and destroying fragile coral formations. Whenever possible, Carina freed trapped fish, but the destruction was relentless. Corals, among the ocean’s most sensitive organisms, had no defense against such brutality. Even under ideal conditions, they take years to recover. Here, they were disturbed daily. For Carina, one thing became clear – the greatest threat to Oman’s marine life wasn’t malice, but ignorance. The locals simply didn’t understand the damage being done. Education was needed. Change was needed. And in that realization, her passion for diving evolved into something greater – a mission to protect the underwater world she loved. Because when Notre Dame was burning, thousands rushed to restore it. But when the ocean – the largest and most vital ecosystem on our planet – needs help, the world looks away. No one cares. Only a handful of individuals fight for its survival.
Act
These days, Carina is immersing herself in biology studies while also making waves as a scuba instructor in Graz. Her favorite part? Seeing how passion spreads – how people light up when they connect with the ocean, inspiring each other in the process. She hasn’t just followed her love for the sea; she’s charted a course that blends adventure with science. While Carina spends most of her time beneath the surface, her father is savoring the slower rhythm of retirement – though an annual dive trip remains a non-negotiable tradition. When choosing the dive sites, Gerald tries to bypass mass tourism, and sometimes he can’t help but wallow in nostalgia when life on the beach was vast and tranquil and the underwater world was thriving.
Today, it is the other way round: underwater the white death of bleaching is king, ruling formerly colorful coral reefs, and fishless open water gives the ocean a hollow heart. Together, Carina and her father carry on – not just as divers, but as devoted stewards of the sea. Gerald emphasizes that people must become more aware of the health of our natural waters and educate themselves – or be educated – to truly grasp the complexity of marine conservation. Whenever Carina slips beneath the surface, she scans for trash. Sadly, there’s always too much of it. She collects what she can, bringing it to the surface – unless marine life has already woven it into their habitat. In that case, she leaves it be. If every diver did the same, it would be a small but meaningful way to give back to the ocean – returning to it what we have taken: its freedom to thrive in peace, diversity, and astonishing beauty.
Article by Carolina Leiter, Interview Partners Carina & Gerald Zettel, Photos by Gerald Zettel und Gabriele Zettel