Archive for March, 2010

This is not a Great White, but he plays one on TV...
Another day, another shark feed. In scuba diving circles, the Bahamas are pretty well known for their sharks. Divers commonly see black tips, white tips, grey reef, and nurse sharks on dives. The only way to pack more of them into a dive is to feed them, which is what several companies have started offering in the Bahamas. While no shark feed is 100% safe, I chose one with an environmentally conscious reputation and an impeccable safety record. Better to stack the deck in my favor from the start.
When the dive boat tied up to the mooring ball I was surprised to see how close we were to shore. Specifically, how close we were to several large hotels. If the guests only knew what lay in the nearby waves, they would spend their time in the pool.
The shark feeder (we will call him Sir Fish Head in deference to the chain mail he wore) entered the water and plummeted to the bottom from the weight of his suit. He walked along the sea floor towards us in slow motion, like a knight in shining armor walking on the moon. I expected him to stop about thirty feet away from us, but he kept approaching us, closer and closer. He finally stopped six feet from our diver line.
Sir Fish Head pulled the first piece of fish out of the thermos and five sharks swooped in to grab it. They swam so fast I did not see them approach. They just appeared, grabbed the food, and disappeared, like aquatic magic. The fish feeder continued to pull bits of fish out, sometimes dangling it on the end of his lance to feed the sharks, sometimes handing larger pieces directly to their waiting jaws. The sharks began circling closer to us, their shyness replaced by their growing excitement over the fishy snack.
The sharks were so numerous and so close that I would have come into contact with one had I shifted any body part too much. The closeness of the sharks unnerved me, but also enthralled. I could see the detail of their black marble eyes and the electrical sensors on their snouts that looked like enlarged pores. One shark had a large hook in the side of its mouth, the result of a fisherman’s bait theft gone badly. Their faces grinned with rows of large teeth, exuding menace even when the sharks’ mouths were closed.
When the food disappeared from the water the sharks disappeared from sight. The divemaster ushered us back to the boat. Sir Fish Head stayed behind to distract any remaining sharks in the area, keeping them away from us as we ascended. I took many photos of the event with my underwater camera, though I had not paid too much attention to the viewfinder in favor of focusing on the real thing in front of me. When I developed the pictures they were all of parts of sharks: a tail, a head, some fins. The sharks had been so close that the lens had not captured a single one in its entirety.
There comes a time in every diver’s life when your usual dive buddy (wife, husband, partner in crime, lifelong friend, annoying neighbor, twin, etc.) is not able to make the trip, but you are determined to dive anyway. Not to be deterred from the lure of the sea, you boldly climb on the dive boat and start scrutinizing the other divers to see who is going to be your assigned buddy for the day. Sometimes it works out, and a new dive buddy/lifelong friend is made. But, more often then not, you get saddled with The Worst Dive Buddy, the butt of jokes and the basis of buddy comparison for all dives in the future. A few of the unfortunate buddy options:
ADOS Buddy – Attention Deficit…Ooooh Shiny. ADOS Buddy can’t seem to focus on anything for more than a second, making task completion and stimulating conversation impossible. You are the last pair to descend because he forgot his weight belt and has to climb back on the boat to get it. Underwater, curious things continuously pull his attention and his body in the polar opposite direction from you and the rest of the dive group. Before the boat pulls back to the dock he will ask you at least four times “What was the name of that reef that we just visited?” It is okay if you lose your temper with him – he won’t remember you tomorrow.
Scuba Steve Buddy – Scuba Steve knows it all (just look at the endless list of ScubaSteve Twitter sites). What starts out as some interesting ocean factoids on your ride to the reef quickly turns into an overwhelming dissertation about the mating habits of the humuhumunukunukuapuaa fish. He corrects the divemaster during the dive briefing, and wants to point out to you every bit of obscure fish sh*t he encounters during the dive. Note: you can usually tell Scuba Steve Buddy before he even opens his mouth: he’s the one with the enormous trapper-keeper dive log and seven sharpened pencils for recording the details.
I Love Scuba Buddy – This man is moved by the scuba spirit. You can appreciate his enthusiasm, but your hand starts to sting from all the high-5’s he keeps giving you. He claps at the end of the dive briefing. Fascinating underwater finds like seaweed and sand cause him to grab your arm and gesticulate excitedly. Warning: this man will whoop with joy and celebration the moment he breaks the surface at the end of the dive. Do not be alarmed – this is normal behavior for I Love Scuba Buddy, and not nitrogen narcosis.
Clueless Buddy – Has this person ever gone diving before? Clueless Buddy has no idea how to set up their gear, how to function on a dive boat, and even looks like he put on his swimsuit backwards. His weight belt is on the bench seat, he washed his soapy mask in the camera bucket, and he is gazing off into the sunset while a whole line of divers waits behind him to giant stride off the swim platform. Underwater, his hand gestures look like Kabuki Theater and he wants to fondle every living thing in the sea. Fortunately, the fire coral teaches him a lesson before you have to.
We made it to the dive site and geared up. My mask, fins, tank, scuba vest, and various other tubes, valves and bits were all in place, giving the overall impression of a medical supply warehouse, rather than a diver. Now came the most awkward part of any diving experience on a large boat: the Scuba Shuffle to the back.
The Scuba Shuffle is an aquatic conga of sorts, but without the maracas. The divers, who had plenty of time to suit up, all stood up at once due to some lemming-like intuition that drives divers’ behavior. Invariably the wind picked up at that moment and the boat began to sway. Queue the tin-pan music and the bongos. While invaluable underwater, fins are the least graceful piece of sports equipment one can possess on land. A diver can’t simply walk to the back of the boat and jump off, he or she must do a duck-like shuffle and flap, complete with the corresponding shrrrr-whup shurrr-whup sound. Like me, the others in the conga line were leaning forward to avoid falling backwards from the gear weight, but appearing as if we all found something fascinating on the rear of the person in front of us. Shuffle flap, shrrr-whup.
The boat continued to roll in the waves, picking up momentum as I shuffled past the more challenging boat features like the swinging wetsuit locker and the oblivious snorkelers with arms shooting in all directions at once. Snorkelers are generally not welcome on dive boats because they always seem to be in the right place to create the maximum hindrance to divers transporting and preparing gear. Much to our dismay, almost half of the tourists on the boat were snorkelers. We would consider using a different company the rest of trip.
Rather than jumping in, a logjam of divers formed at the back of the boat due to various forgotten pieces of equipment and irrational fish phobias. Like salmon in a swift current, the divers creating the jam could not get back upstream until the rest of the conga line passed. Shuffle flap, shrrr-whup. Finally, it was my turn at the back of the boat. I put my air regulator in my mouth, held my mask, and took a giant stride into the sapphire blue ocean. Unfortunately, my over-excitement caused an extra spring in my big step, thus loosening my right fin, which went swirling into the depths unattended. I can only imagine the fish thoughts below as they watched it sink to the bottom: “Oh look! Decorations for the calypso party!” One of the staff on the boat handed me down an extra fin and off I went into the blue.

Neoprene is not the most forgiving of fabrics...
Frequently after I end a great dive I wonder why more people don’t take up the sport of scuba. Sure, there are your usual shark, drowning and wetsuit phobias, and not everyone lives near water worth diving into, but still – what excuse does the rest of the world have? It’s not that I want to fill dive boats up to capacity world-wide (although that would be a nice boost to the scuba economy), but I really think people are missing out, especially when it comes to exploring the substance that covers 2/3rds of the world’s surface. Therefore, I propose these 5 Good Reasons to go diving:
- You don’t need to provide your credit score to get a scuba tank – It’s not the cheapest hobby ever, but there are a lot more expensive ways to spend your time. I think some people assume that a diver has to fork over a ton of bucks, especially in light of all of the gear needed, but it’s just not true. And, many dive shops offer discounts if you book with them for more than one day. It seems everyone is holding their hands out waiting to grab some of your hard-earned cash; make sure you are getting something life-changing in return!
- Voices don’t travel well underwater, so it’s easier than ever to tune them out – Pick your own brand of annoyances: politicians, fanatics, your in-laws, maybe even that nosy neighbor with the eternally barking dog. Though topside you can’t escape them, underwater they are blessedly silent. There is something incredibly zen-like about the lack of everyday sounds underwater, replaced by the more tranquil sounds of sea life, water and an occasional boat overhead.
- A little bit of exercise that feels good might be nice – Some dives I have done, like a nice drift dive over Palancar Reef in Cozumel, are so mellow that I bet I burnt more calories sleeping. Others, like those involving a roaring current or acrobatic acts to climb through wrecks, will leave you almost breathless and completely exhausted by the time the boat returns to the dock. Scuba can be a great way to get some exercise. Best of all, there is so much for your mind to absorb underwater that you won’t even notice you are doing something good for your body.
- “Hey, there’s fish in there!” – Fish, inherently, live underwater. Ship wrecks are, by definition, wet. There are some incredibly interesting things to see in the ocean, but only if you take the time to go under the waves. Squinting at an aquarium in your dry clothes just isn’t the same.
Keep your New Year’s resolution – Go ahead, look at Twitter or Facebook notations on New Year’s resolutions. By far the most common stated intentions for 2010 are scuba diving, sky diving and losing 10 pounds. I can’t help you with the sky diving thing nor the weightloss, but I can say that learning to scuba dive is a great goal for the year, one that you’ll appreciate not just now, but in the future years to come as well.

Sexy Cephalopod
Few creatures are as exciting to spot underwater as an octopus. They are smart and good at camouflage, so finding one is always a treat. Plus, they are just beautiful animals to see, with lots of color, shape and size variations. These creatures come in a wide range of options, some as little as an inch, some as large as 16 feet across. The octopus inhabits many diverse regions of the oceans around the world, especially coral reefs, and can exist in water depths from tidal pools all the way down to over 200 feet. For defense against predators, they hide, flee quickly, expel ink, or use color-changing camouflage. Scientists say that most of an octopus’ behavior is learned, not innate, a minor miracle since their lifespan is so darn short (5 years at the absolute most!)
There are about 300 recognized octopus species in the world, too many to cover in depth. But, some are amazing, even by octopus standards, and are worth a mention:
Mimic Octopus – This octopus only lives for 9 months, but boy it accomplishes a lot during that time. This crazy cephalopod takes on the appearance of other species to scare off predators and find food. Imagine a creature burying all but its eyes and two arms below the sand, leaving in view a long thin object with white and black bands running across the elongated body that looks just like the local sea snake. Now you’ve got the mental picture of why the Mimic Octopus is so unique. It usually imitates venomous species, like a lionfish, sea snake, or a poisonous flatfish, though people have also described it looking like a stingray, a crab, and other types of less lethal sea life. Divers can find this octopus off the Indo- Malay archipelago, especially around Sulawesi. Don’t worry though, it isn’t poisonous to humans.
Caribbean Reef Octopus – The Caribbean Reef Octopus isn’t the best looking octopus out there, but if you have been scuba diving in the Caribbean and seen an octopus, chances are this is the most likely suspect. It is common throughout the Western Atlantic, Bahamas, Caribbean and the coasts of northern South America. It is often found at night feeding on reefs and sea grass beds. They have a distinctive blue-green color with occasional mottled-brown markings. Because their blue-green skin is so reflective, they are easy to spot at night with dive lights. Like other octopus species, the Caribbean reef octopus is solitary animal and able to quickly change color using specialized cells in their skin known as chromatophores. They can weigh up to 1.5 kg, but have been known to wedge themselves into miniscule reef crevices and wreck holes.
Wonderpus Octopus – The Wonderpus Octopus has got to be the sexiest cephalopod out there, with a striking color pattern of white bars and spots over a brown-red background. It’s characterized by a small mantle (the part of the body that contains the mouth and vital organs), which is about an inch to an inch-and-a-half long, and long arms that measure about five to seven times the length of the mantle. Its patterns of spots (on the body) and stripes (on the arms) are unique to each individual adult wonderpus, making identification of a specific creature possible. Divers can find the wonderpus in shallow waters from Bali and Sulawesi north to the Philippines and east to Vanuatu, and will fare best looking for the creature when it is most active in the twilight hours of dusk and dawn. This creature is a relative newcomer to the fish identification guides, with the first identification happening only in 1980. Go ahead, say it: won-der-pus. Even its name is sexy.

Blue Ringed Octopus
Greater Blue-ringed Octopus
– No discussion about octopi could be complete without mentioning the little one we love to hate, the Blue-ringed Octopus. Unlike its southern brethren, the Blue-lined and Southern Blue-ringed octopuses that are found only in Australian waters, the range of the Greater Blue-ringed Octopus spans the tropical western Pacific Ocean. Greater Blue-ringed Octopuses can weigh between 10 and 100 grams, though the average is 55 grams. The blue-ringed octopus is the size of a golf ball, but its venom is powerful enough to kill humans, and no known antidote exists. Remember the James Bond movie Octopussy? Yes, it’s that one.
White-spotted Octopus – Humans have been watching the white-spotted octopus since 1826 when it was first spotted off the coast of Nice in the Mediterranean Sea. It spends its adult life on the ocean bottom, and although divers usually see this octopus hanging out near-shore it sometimes it can be found much deeper. This octopus has long arms, with the first arm pair being the longest and stoutest, and has shallow webbing among the arms. It also has a higher sucker count than most octopuses. This is a nocturnal creature, waiting until night to find its favorite snacks of clams and crabs. The white-spotted octopus only lives for 1-2 years after which it goes out with a “bang” (literally) after a single breeding season.
Giant Pacific Octopus – This is the big daddy of all octopi, the Giant Pacific Octopus. As the name would suggest, it is the largest species of octopus in the oceans, averaging 16 feet across and weighing an average of 120 lbs. It is also the longest lived, at 4-5 years. Divers can spot this behemoth from southern California, northward along the coast of North America, across the Aleutian Islands, and southward to Japan, though they usually hang out quite deep, typically at around 215 ft. But just because they are big doesn’t mean they are beautiful: Giant Pacific octopuses have huge, bulbous heads and are generally reddish-brown in color. Like the other members of the octopus family, though, they use special pigment cells in their skin to change colors and textures, and can blend in with even the most intricately patterned corals, plants, and rocks.
Sometimes when I am surfing the net looking for blog post ideas, I really struggle to find unique, humorous topics to discuss. This is not one of those days. Thank you, National Geographic, for making my job so easy.
The NG Channel has an interesting series on the science behind wild animals and natural phenomenon. Last night they ran a fabulous episode, but don’t worry, they are re-running it several times.
“In January 2004, a dead sperm whale weighing over 50 tons washed up on the coast of Tainan, Taipei. On the way to Tainan University for research, the whale exploded due to volatile gas build up in its abdomen.”
So this already deceased whale washes up on shore (if they had killed it I would not run this story), and someone comes up with the brilliant idea to strap it to a flat bed truck and drive it over to the research lab at the University to determine the cause of death and study the species. Oh yes, there are pictures of it riding the flat bed. Apparently there are no back roads in Taipei, so they have to take it straight through town. Oh yes, there are pictures of it cruising the town. At about the same time the whale is touring the sites, a very unlucky man parks his car in front of the local supermarket and runs in for just a few items. Oh yes, there are pictures of the formerly white car. Oh no, I don’t mean the dead whale leaked a bit on the way there. It actually exploded forcibly, spewing its unfortunate contents all over the street, sidewalk, passersby, cars, etc.
There are other fascinating photos on the NG website, such as a worker hosing whale entrails off the street (really now, what else could they do?) I also like the quote in the story that “Local residents were overwhelmed by the stench from the whale.” Strangely absent, however, was any quote establishing that “Local residents were surprised by the appearance of the whale outside their apartment windows” in the first place.

