The photograph captures a twilight scene located along the southern coast of Cuba. It's an aerial shot, looking slightly downward onto a coastal national preserve – Parque Nacional de Guanahacabibes, specifically. The overall mood is one of serene mystery and quiet power. The sun has just dipped below the horizon; the sky bleeds with hues of deep indigo, bruised purple, and lingering streaks of coral pink reflecting off the surface of the water. The focus isn’t entirely on the coast itself, which appears as a ribbon of white sand fringed by lush tropical gardens overflowing with vibrant bougainvillea and palms. Instead, the main subject is *beneath* the surface. David Doubilet's signature style is evident - the water isn't merely translucent; it’s rendered in incredibly detailed clarity, almost silky smooth thanks to a long exposure and precise filtration. A small group of marine patrol officers, clad in dark wetsuits and carrying sophisticated monitoring equipment, are visible on the surface, their forms subtly distorted by the water’s movement – they appear as silhouettes against the fading light. Beneath them, a pod of sharks—hammerheads and bull sharks—move with an effortless grace. They aren’t aggressive or threatening; instead, they seem to be part of this majestic ecosystem, guardians of its secrets. The lighting is crucial: shafts of the last dying sunlight penetrate downwards, creating dramatic beams that illuminate swirling schools of fish and highlight the texture of coral reefs. The photograph subtly hints at the historical significance of Cuba – a queen's gaze might have swept over these same waters centuries ago - but the dominant feeling is one of conservation, a preservation of this fragile beauty for future generations. The ‘Cubas’—the island’s spirit—is palpable in every detail.