In the Florida Keys, an aquarist and educator builds a life of stewardship the scenic way — after learning what to refuse.
BY: NADA KHALAF-JONES
Special to The Free Press · ran Sep 3 2026
Story and photos by Nada Khalaf-Jones. As published in the Florida Keys Free Press, Sep 3 2026 (Pursuits / Features).










“Teaching scuba in the Midwest was more laidback. We’d do the classroom and confined water dives during the winter with each class mainly on the weekends. It would be classroom in the mornings with their respective confined dives in the afternoon. For the open water dives, we’d go to a lake in Arkansas starting in May through October, usually one weekend each month. It was also shore diving, so we had the leisure between dives to have a snack, nap, restroom break, or chat before determining everyone in the group was ready to get back to it. In PADI, we’re only allowed three open water training dives a day to count towards any certification, so this schedule allowed for us to do those. When I moved down here I was hired at a dive shop and being employed by that dive shop was chaotic. Staying strict on the schedule while making sure everything with and on the boat was prepared for divers. A lot of people who were getting their certifications had already gone through their classroom and confined water dives, so trying to get to know people or calm any fears was difficult. It was very much like working a cattle car. Herd everyone on, rush to the dive, rush back on, rush to the next dive, rush back on, head in, and then herd them off before the afternoon group. I realize now how spoiled I was/am by starting with shore diving first, but, man, that’s all I want.
In all fairness, dive shops down here have to cater to vacationers because that’s the bulk of the income. The dive shop I came from was for our city and surrounding areas and we worked to build and keep those relationships so divers would keep coming back to us for more training or fun dives, as well as send other people to us. We wanted to be trusted by our community and in our community.”
In the sun-drenched waters of the Florida Keys, Jessica Bartels is more than just a diver. She is a steward of the sea and a quiet bridge between two worlds. With corkscrew curly hair and a steady focus on the planet’s well-being, Bartels moves between the Islamorada Bass Pro / World Wide Sportsman aquarium and the Education Department at Key Largo’s Dolphins Plus with a rare mix of scientific precision and deep-seated empathy.
Hundreds of Siblings
Bartels’ love for animals did not begin in a classroom. It began on a farm. Growing up as an only child who joked she had “hundreds of siblings,” she was surrounded by a living menagerie that included emus, ostriches, rheas, peacocks, llamas, goats, sugar gliders, and more. When she was eight, the family found a baby snapping turtle in their pond. That discovery led her mother to become a volunteer wildlife rehabilitator. Their home became a temporary sanctuary for fawns, raccoons, and bats. Birds of prey—owls, Red-Tailed Hawks, and one Bald Eagle—were part of the releases they helped with, though they did not stay at the house.
Her graduation cap when she earned her Marine Biology degree was adorned with a picture of her mother and of the experiences she gave Jessica. It simply read: “All Because Of My Mom.”
That childhood of caretaking rather than ownership shaped her. She still carries a verse her mother lived by—Genesis 1:26 from The Message translation—which she reads as a call to stewardship: taking care of what is not ours to the best of our ability.
A Non-Linear Voyage
Bartels’ path to the ocean was anything but straight. Childhood trips to Florida and an early obsession with The Little Mermaid planted the seed. A first visit to SeaWorld at age five or seven showed her that working with marine mammals could be a real job. Yet life pulled her elsewhere for years.
She earned a BA in Music (Liberal Arts – Voice) in 2013. She joined the Navy at 24 and served until injuries at age 25 changed the course of her physical life—injuries that remain lifelong. Scuba certification, first attempted at 11, was not completed until she was 30. She finished her Associate of Science in Biology in December 2020 and her Bachelor of Science in Marine Biology and General Biology in May 2022, at age 32.
“I needed those growth experiences,” she says. “I needed to learn to say ‘no’ to things so that I could say ‘yes’ to all of this.”
One of the steady lights along that winding road has been oceanographer Sylvia Earle. Bartels names Earle as one of her greatest influences—the pioneering scientist, explorer, and fierce advocate who has spent a lifetime reminding the world that the ocean is not a resource to be used up, but a living system that sustains us all. That same call to deep attention and care echoes in Bartels’ own work.
The Mechanics of Stewardship
At Bass Pro, Bartels is both diver and aquarist. One partial day a week she either enters the tank to clean algae and occasionally catch fish, or she focuses on the life-support systems that keep the exhibit healthy: backwashing filters, monitoring salinity, temperature, ammonia, and other parameters, conducting the monthly fish census, and tracking everything in the Oerca system. The tank is built to resemble the local mangroves, stocked with species that thrive in these waters and occupy different parts of the water column.
She does not enjoy boat diving with large groups. Shore-based diving is more her speed. In a field that often rewards the loud and the brash, Bartels comes across as deeply shy—yet she articulates her work with clarity and quiet authority. Her love for animals and her steady advocacy for them form her greatest strength.
At Dolphins Plus she works two to three afternoons a week, helping with summer camps, classroom management, and eventually leading field-trip lessons and animal-care support. Both positions give her the flexibility her body requires while still allowing her to stay productive and present.
The Confidence to Care
Bartels believes conservation begins with connection. A child who only sees a dolphin in a book may say they care. A child who meets one in person—who can hear its breath, feel the water, and learn its story—gains a concrete reason to protect the ocean.
Her favorite moments are watching fear turn into confidence: a child who wants to touch a slipper lobster or join a dolphin encounter but is almost held back by the unknown. Talking them through it, showing them first, and doing it alongside them creates small victories that expand what they believe is possible.
“When kids grow up confident to try new things,” she says. “It expands their world. And when we have something we care about, we do what we can to protect it.”
In a culture that prizes speed and straight lines, Jessica Bartels offers a different model: the scenic route, the hard-won “yes,” and the quiet, consistent work of stewardship. Sometimes the most meaningful callings arrive only after we learn what to refuse—and after we find the voices, like Sylvia Earle’s, that help us keep going.
Professional Credentials
- BS: Marine Biology & General Biology, May 2022
- AS: Biology, December 2020
- BA, Music: Liberal Arts – Voice, May 2013
- PADI IDC Staff Instructor
- CF-L1
- Enlifted Level 2 Coach



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