The Fearless Underwater Explorer Breaking the Status Quo for Women Everywhere
An Expedition to Ottawa, Canada's Capital in Ontario
From being one of the world’s most renowned cave divers to making groundbreaking documentaries, Jill Heinerth has truly seen the planet in ways that few ever will. Her work spans climates: from diving into iceberg caves in Antarctica to surveying the world’s longest cave systems in Mexico. Jill is not just a diver; she’s a filmmaker, an artist, an author, and a pioneering voice in citizen science. She’s also one of the few women who have made a significant mark in the male-dominated world of technical diving and exploration. With over 8,000 cave dives, she has tackled some of the world’s most complex and challenging sites.
She has been honored with awards like the Sir Christopher Ondaatje Medal for Exploration and the Wyland Icon Award. Her documentaries, such as We Are Water and Water’s Journey, showcase the fragile beauty of our planet’s underwater realms while advocating for their protection. But Jill’s storytelling abilities aren’t limited to cinema, she’s also an accomplished author, with her book Into the Planet: My Life as a Cave Diver offering a riveting insight into the life of someone who has spent decades navigating the unknown “veins of Mother Earth.”
As of August 2024, she’s been on tour promoting her new film Diving Into the Darkness: Never Cave into Fear, which is showcasing at film festivals around the world and will be available for streaming in the new year. Meeting and diving with someone of her caliber was more than just a learning experience for the Edges of Earth expedition team—it was a close look into the spirit of adventure and the relentless pursuit of knowledge. This is something that has never been lost on Jill.
Jill Heinerth preparing for an expedition on the Ottawa River
Jill speaks to: Andi Cross | Photography by: Adam Moore
Andi: Let’s talk about your incredible career, which has inspired so many. How did it all begin, and how did you get to where you are now?
Jill: As a child of the ’60s, I was mesmerized by the Apollo missions and dreamed of becoming an astronaut—didn’t every kid back then? I remember telling my mom, and she said, "Oh honey, there's no Canadian space program. There are no girl astronauts." That was a door closing for me as a young child.
But I thought, if I can't be an astronaut, how can I still be an explorer? I wanted to fuel my curiosity, work outdoors, and avoid being stuck in an office for life. What I’ve learned over my 59 years on earth is that you don’t need anyone’s permission to explore. You don’t need a space agency. You can break through the glass ceiling by simply putting one foot in front of the other and just DOING it. Diving has taken me to places where no one has ever been, allowing me to speak for these places and the changes I see in the world.
Formally, I’m a trained artist. So, forging my way in the underwater world as an explorer and science communicator has certainly been challenging without a PhD. It was tough to find grants and support as a non-scientist when I first started, so I often had to push forward on my own, creating purpose and meaning for myself.
Jill applies her background in art to her diving expeditions
As an artist, I didn’t quite fit into the traditional world of science. But I made a space for myself. Now, I believe that’s where my unique value lies and where my career has taken me! We need artists and scientists to collaborate, to support each other. I represent that creative side that isn’t bound by organizations or academic institutions, allowing me to say what I want and how I want it, whereas many scientists work within structures that might limit their voices. But together, we’re powerful.
Scientists aren’t always natural communicators who can captivate the public’s imagination. I work closely with them to communicate their findings—or our shared findings—in a way that resonates with a broader audience. I got to where I am today through storytelling. It’s a method I use to convey important messages about the existential threats we face and the wonders in our environment. I hope to not only bring adventure into people’s lives but also to connect them to the cause, the information, or the mission, and invite them to join in.
Andi: Becoming a diver—what was that journey like? How did you go from wanting to explore to actually doing it?
Jill: I used to watch Jacques Cousteau on TV, and after seeing the Apollo missions, I saw Cousteau as an “underwater astronaut.” So, I set my sights on being an aquanaut instead of an astronaut. But no one in my family was a diver, and I didn’t know anyone who was. My family even assumed people didn’t dive in Canada because it’s too cold.
It was a slow journey, learning bit by bit how to become a diver. By the time I was in university, I had saved enough money and finally found a way to take a diving class here in Canada. From that first dive, I knew this was my calling—I was going to spend the rest of my life exploring underwater worlds, no matter what it took.
Jill is constantly curious and on an lifelong quest to explore the underwater world
I learned to dive in Tobermory, Canada, and since then, I’ve traveled all over the world—diving in caves inside icebergs, volcanic lava tubes beneath the ocean floor, and even in places like the Sahara Desert and the Ural Mountains of Russia. It was a dream that I turned into reality by seeking out my own opportunities, applying for grants, or even funding my own projects when I couldn’t get the support. For me, it was about going for it without waiting for permission.
Andi: You mentioned changes you’ve seen in the world. What are they, and how are you approaching solving them?
Jill: Early in my career, I moved to the Cayman Islands, in the heart of the Caribbean—an absolutely stunning environment. I thought it would be a perfect place to improve my photography skills, learn more about the ocean, and chart a path forward for my career.
It was beautiful then, but today, it breaks my heart to see the state of some coral reefs and the challenges they face—bleaching, stony coral wasting diseases, overfishing, the loss of native species, and the introduction of invasive species. There’s been so much change, and the water is warming. When I revisit these places and compare them to my logbook entries from the past, I see a significant and serious change. An example is the rise in water temperatures, not just in the Caribbean, but even here in the Great Lakes.
All this change has given me a moral imperative to share these stories, but I want to do it with hope. We need to provide people with solutions and help them become part of the effort to solve these problems. We have to give them the hard facts, but also inspire them to be better stewards of the environment. That’s my mission.
Jill sharing knowledge about what sits beneath the surface of the Ottawa River
I remember watching Jacques Cousteau when he first started out. He shared his wonder and hope. But at some point, he lost that spark and started making films that were just downright depressing and hard to watch. When I became a filmmaker, I knew I couldn’t do that. I had stopped watching Cousteau’s later films myself because of this undertone. I want people to tune in for hope, for optimism, to be part of the solution, and to collaborate on solving the issues we face—as that’s what is going to move our planet forward.
Andi: How have your experiences with climate change shaped your outlook?
Jill: My explorations have shown me the impact of climate change first hand—sometimes in life-threatening ways. For instance, when I was diving inside an iceberg in Antarctica for a documentary I was working on, I had no idea that the iceberg, the largest moving object ever seen on earth, would collapse right after my dive.
Now, scientists are discovering that water is flowing through and beneath the Greenland ice sheet, speeding its breakup into the ocean. The polar regions are changing faster than anywhere else on earth. Polar bears are swimming longer distances to hunt seals. They rely on ice to rear their young and hunt efficiently, but with the ice disappearing, they’re forced into desperate measures—like climbing cliffs to rob birds’ nests for eggs.
These changes are terrifying, but we can’t just sit with that knowledge—we have to share it. When I wrote the script for my film Ice Island, people advised against using terms like “sea level rise” and “global climate change” because they were too scary and political. That was 25 years ago. We can’t tune out this information. We have to keep telling these stories, even the hard ones, while also giving people hope.
I’ve seen climate change up close, and it’s tried to kill me more than once. But these experiences teach us about the past and help us prepare for the future. That’s what makes us human—our ability to learn, predict, and create change. We have the capacity to look ahead and make a better future for all of us and that is my always present, and ever alive outlook not just on the climate crisis but on my own personal contributions as a full-time underwater explorer.
Andi: I love the quote from James Cameron, “More people have been to the moon than to places that Jill Heinerth has explored deep inside our watery planet.” As someone who has seen places no one else has seen before, what are the glimmers of hope you’ve found along the way?
Jill: Despite all the changes I’ve witnessed in my lifetime, I remain an eternal optimist. A woman of my age shouldn’t have seen so much change on the planet, but here we are. When I revisit places I dove early in my career, like the Cayman Islands, it’s heartbreaking to see the damage. Some still find it beautiful, but I know what it once was, and it’s hard not to grieve that loss. However, there are still hope stories—everywhere. Even in the Cayman Islands, people are developing heat-resistant corals to save some of these reefs, and new methods are being tested to combat stony coral wasting disease.
In Canada, I see a unique perspective. A damaged environment and a robust, savable one can be just a few hours apart. For instance, here in Brockville, near the US-Canadian border, the waters once teemed with life, but now there’s little left beyond invasive mussels. Yet, just a few hours north, the Ottawa River’s remote caves are bursting with life. I’m dedicating the rest of my career to exploring, learning, and communicating my findings, hoping to inspire others with these stories of resilience.
Jill diving the Brockville region, void of life
There’s immense hope in natural solutions. If humanity stepped back, the Earth would eventually rebalance itself. But since we’re moving too fast for the environment to adapt, we need to support it. Whether it’s using natural filter-feeding organisms, replanting kelp forests to reduce agricultural runoff, or harnessing the power of Mother Nature, these efforts give me the most hope.
That doesn’t mean I’ve lost faith in technology. As part of the XPRIZE Brain Trust for Nature Conservation and Biodiversity, we brainstorm innovative ideas, like creating a digital twin of earth to make research accessible to everyone. We need to develop standardized traceability for resources, deploy environmental sensors, replant kelp forests, and create filtration strategies to eliminate dead zones. Technology can help us achieve these goals.
Solving these complex problems requires collaboration. So, I remain hopeful and committed to sharing my stories and the wisdom I’ve gained from my dives. While I don’t have all the answers, I hope to inspire the next generation—or anyone with a passion for this—and together, we can find solutions.
Andi: For people just getting involved—whether learning to scuba dive or beginning their journey as an explorer—what advice would you give?
Jill: My first piece of advice is to dive in—literally and figuratively. Whether you're learning to scuba dive or embarking on any new adventure, the most important step is simply to start. That initial experience—taking your first breath underwater, for example—will be a “Wow” moment. It’s like entering an entirely new world, full of life and wonder. The awe you feel in those moments is powerful, and sharing your experiences can inspire others to explore and connect with the environment.
Jill remains a forever optimist and shares stories of realities, as well as hope for our waterways
But don’t stop at the thrill of discovery. To truly make a difference, it's important to deepen your understanding of the environment you’re exploring. Learn about the ecosystems, recognize the connections within them, and see where you can contribute to their preservation. This could be as simple as participating in a shore cleanup or volunteering for conservation projects. The key is to get involved and stay engaged. Every small action can lead to greater opportunities and open doors you didn’t even know were there.
If your passion drives you toward a career in ocean or water exploration—whether as an explorer, engineer, biologist, or something else—know that there are no barriers too big to overcome. Your background, gender, or previous experience shouldn’t hold you back. Whether through formal education or as a citizen scientist, everyone has a role in addressing the environmental challenges we face. It’s going to take creativity, collaboration, and some bold ideas to solve the climate and water crises. So, my biggest piece of advice? Be fearless. Chase your dreams with determination, and don’t let anything stand in your way.
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SHE Changes Climate collaborates with the Edges of Earth Expedition, a woman-led team dedicated to highlighting impactful stories from the environmental frontlines. This partnership focuses on amplifying the voices of women who are pioneering positive change in some of the world’s most vulnerable coastal and marine environments, many of whose stories have gone untold.