My "breather" finally got out for a dive this month. After a couple of false starts earlier in the month, I packed the scrubber, checked the battery voltages, lubricated the o-rings and reassembled the Inspo (Australian slang for the Inspiration rebreather) ready for a freshwater dive in Lake Taupo on Sunday 10th April.
During the positive pressure test after assembly, there was a loss of pressure in the rebreathers loop. With the aid of soapy water, the leaks were quickly found and resolved (a small leak in the exhale hose connection to the counterlung tee-piece and from the dump valve.) The unit now held both its positive and negative tests. The auto diluent valve (ADV), manual inflators and Auto Air all worked without any problems.
Nigel Lees drove Dave Maddox and myself across to Lake Taupo via the Forgotten World Highway. After almost three hours of snaking through tight turns and unsealed sections of road and we were standing at the side of the lake in a small settlement called Pukawa. Our three Inspirations were unloaded quickly from the vehicle and the side slung tanks (for open circuit bailout off the rebreather loop) were placed at the waters edge for putting on in the water. After calibrating the rebreathers to account for altitude (Lake Taupo being at a height of 356m above sea level) and ambient air pressure, we pulled on our drysuits, strapped on the VR3 dive computers, and donned the Inspirations for pre-breathing the scrubber.
Pre-breathing the InspoAs always, a small group of onlookers watched as we approached the water and proceeded to ask the usual set of questions. Nigel took the role of spokesman for the day and answered with a knowing tone which seemed to appease the onlookers curiosity. I was getting too hot in the drysuit and walking about with the 32kg rebreather didn’t help, so I made a beeline for the water and geared up. Nigel and Dave pulled on their fins and side-slung tanks in the water. Dave had a 40cu.ft. aluminium tank, Nigel was using a 7litre Faber steel tank and I had a 10litre Faber steel tank (with an extra connector allowing it to be used as an off-board diluent source via the ADV.)
We all submerged and met up at the edge of a ledge in 3m of water. Here we checked for any bubbles (a sign of a leak in the unit) and adjusted the gear for comfort. Dave set off down the steep slope with Nigel and myself following behind. The water was 18C and the visibility dropped to about 8m after 18m of descent. Setpoints now at 1.3bar and using a modified frog-kick, we pushed out deeper following the now gently sloping contour of the lakes’ banks to a depth of 38m (Lake Taupo can get to a depth of 160m in places and we were diving a spot that went to 85-90m.) A thermocline in the water at 27m made the temperature drop to 15C and it was very noticeable (I heard Dave let out a yelp as he passed through it!)
Nigel was photographing the cheeky freshwater lobsters. At only 3-4 inches long, they would try and take you on by jumping up and snapping their pincers at you. The lake bottom is composed of mud with a fine silt sitting on top. Great care with buoyancy and finning technique are required to prevent a silt out. After 35 minutes of bottom time we turned and followed the slope upwards, taking care to stop at our first required stop depth.
The steep slope had occasional large rocks embedded in it. These rocks seemed to be places where small fish and freshwater lobsters congregated (they looked like they were having committee meetings or something very similar.) Nigel and Dave pressed their masks up close to one such gathering, but nothing seemed overly bothered by their presence. Ah, the joys of no bubble diving!
It was time to play at 14m with Dave deploying a DSMB (Delayed Surface Marker Buoy) which was yellow and had the word "EMERGENCY" written down its length. This type of SMB is fired off when there is a problem on a dive and assistance is required! When he pulled it out and was about to inflate it, I grabbed his attention and asked if he really wanted use that particular SMB and not his orange one for doing deco on. Dave signalled back that all was well and the SMB shot off to the surface dragging the line out of his reel effortlessly.
With all our stops completed, we switched our setpoints to 0.7bar just before the 3m ledge and made our way up the shore. In water shallow enough to stand in we closed our mouthpieces and walked out of the water. Very quickly we were all reminded of how heavy the units are when not supported by the water.
A quick check on the dive computers showed a runtime of 77 minutes.
We got all the gear packed and loaded into Nigel’s vehicle and then we headed home with one stop for refreshments and a blueberry muffin.
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
Thursday, December 1, 2016
Diving, diving, and even more diving
Wow, it's been a hectic month with all the diving I've been doing since my last post - "Cabin fever".
The Great Barrier Island dive trip was fantastic. The rugged native bush covered island is located north of the Coromandel Peninsula in the Hauraki Gulf, and is probably one the best kept secrets in New Zealand with it’s beaches and hidden bays. The water temp was 15C and the visibility varied from a few metres to about 25m, depending on the dive site.
A dive I did on the trip was to Channel Rock, between the Great Barrier Island and the Coromandel Peninsula. This pinnacle of rock sits in the middle of nowhere and experiences strong tidal currents, as I found out whilst struggling to push up into shallower water from 50m and up. My dive buddy, Gary Palmer, was diving his twinset on air (he couldn't find a gas blender to make up a mix in time for the trip) and racked up about 40mins more deco than myself on the rebreather. A very enjoyable dive despite my leaking drysuit.
One of the next dive trips was to Tutukaka, a gateway to the diving paradise of the Poor Knights. Jacques Cousteau rated the Poor Knights as one of his top ten dive sites in the world, and I can fully understand why. The New Zealand government made it into a Marine Reserve in 1981, and as a result, the marine life has become without exception both diverse and abundant. The Eastern Australian Current (the same one mentioned in the kids movie ‘Nemo’) flows past the islands bringing in turtles, whales, and more recently, manta rays.
I did two days of diving in the Poor Knights and the rebreather worked well. On one of the dives, we discovered a large eagle ray lying on a white sand shelf at 20m. When I lay down beside it and stroked its wing, the ray looked at me with it’s large eye and continued to gently breathe the water surrounding us. This is why I personally love the Poor Knights, you always have the opportunity to get really close to the marine life as nothing appears to be bothered by the presence of divers (either on closed circuit or on open circuit).
The majority of my other dives have been off the Taranaki coast. The warmer than usual water has meant that lots of species of fish have remained for the winter season. Even our resident great whites are nearer to shore than usual, with one getting snagged up in a commercial fishing boats nets. Sadly, it died before it was able to be set free. We even had a leopard seal come ashore for a photo opportunity with the local newspaper.
But by far the best thing I saw in the last week or so was a Southern Wright whale and her newly born calf playing only 150m offshore in 20m of water. This was in our Ngamotu Marine Park off New Plymouth, which 100 years before was a regular calving ground for the whales. Then a few days later a pod of Orcas came through. I'm just so lucky to have all this on my doorstep!
The Great Barrier Island dive trip was fantastic. The rugged native bush covered island is located north of the Coromandel Peninsula in the Hauraki Gulf, and is probably one the best kept secrets in New Zealand with it’s beaches and hidden bays. The water temp was 15C and the visibility varied from a few metres to about 25m, depending on the dive site.
A dive I did on the trip was to Channel Rock, between the Great Barrier Island and the Coromandel Peninsula. This pinnacle of rock sits in the middle of nowhere and experiences strong tidal currents, as I found out whilst struggling to push up into shallower water from 50m and up. My dive buddy, Gary Palmer, was diving his twinset on air (he couldn't find a gas blender to make up a mix in time for the trip) and racked up about 40mins more deco than myself on the rebreather. A very enjoyable dive despite my leaking drysuit.
One of the next dive trips was to Tutukaka, a gateway to the diving paradise of the Poor Knights. Jacques Cousteau rated the Poor Knights as one of his top ten dive sites in the world, and I can fully understand why. The New Zealand government made it into a Marine Reserve in 1981, and as a result, the marine life has become without exception both diverse and abundant. The Eastern Australian Current (the same one mentioned in the kids movie ‘Nemo’) flows past the islands bringing in turtles, whales, and more recently, manta rays.
I did two days of diving in the Poor Knights and the rebreather worked well. On one of the dives, we discovered a large eagle ray lying on a white sand shelf at 20m. When I lay down beside it and stroked its wing, the ray looked at me with it’s large eye and continued to gently breathe the water surrounding us. This is why I personally love the Poor Knights, you always have the opportunity to get really close to the marine life as nothing appears to be bothered by the presence of divers (either on closed circuit or on open circuit).
The majority of my other dives have been off the Taranaki coast. The warmer than usual water has meant that lots of species of fish have remained for the winter season. Even our resident great whites are nearer to shore than usual, with one getting snagged up in a commercial fishing boats nets. Sadly, it died before it was able to be set free. We even had a leopard seal come ashore for a photo opportunity with the local newspaper.
But by far the best thing I saw in the last week or so was a Southern Wright whale and her newly born calf playing only 150m offshore in 20m of water. This was in our Ngamotu Marine Park off New Plymouth, which 100 years before was a regular calving ground for the whales. Then a few days later a pod of Orcas came through. I'm just so lucky to have all this on my doorstep!
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
Cabin Fever
Winter here in New Zealand means the visibility in the ocean can vary from zero to 30m plus, and can slip from one extreme to the other in a day. Yesterday, the cabin fever reached new heights and I opted to take a dive off the coast despite the 35 knot northwester and rising swell.
With the rebreather on, I jumped into the scrotum shrinking 12C water (well it would have been scrotum shrinking, but luckily I had my toasty Fourth Element thermals on under my drysuit). After checking that the controllers were still operating, I descended to the seabed.
The 0.5m visibility water obscured almost everything. I even collided with rocks the size of a car... striking the exact same spot on my head where my surfboard clobbered me during a wipe-out the day before. Fifteen minutes passed and I was considering calling the dive, but as luck would have it, I found a patch of cleaner water with about 1m of visibility. Staying motionless, I hovered over a hole where I knew a large but friendly octopus normally resides, but it wasn’t there. Instead of the octopus in the hole, I found three seahorses huddled together at the entrance. Their tails were wrapped tightly around an old section of encrusted chain.
Because I was just staying in one place the whole time, all the local marine life was either coming over to check me out or just getting on with their busy daily routines. I spent the next 45 minutes just watching the social complexities of a 1m by 1m quadrant of reef. Word must have got out that I was there because all sorts of the harder to find species introduced themselves to me. The only thing I never saw were any red spiny lobsters, but I could hear them all around me, particularly the bucks as they clicked some kind of code at each other.
After the dive, I clambered out of my dive gear and got soaked in the process due to the horizontal rain blowing at me from all directions... but guess what, that has to be one of the best dives I had this year!
With the rebreather on, I jumped into the scrotum shrinking 12C water (well it would have been scrotum shrinking, but luckily I had my toasty Fourth Element thermals on under my drysuit). After checking that the controllers were still operating, I descended to the seabed.
The 0.5m visibility water obscured almost everything. I even collided with rocks the size of a car... striking the exact same spot on my head where my surfboard clobbered me during a wipe-out the day before. Fifteen minutes passed and I was considering calling the dive, but as luck would have it, I found a patch of cleaner water with about 1m of visibility. Staying motionless, I hovered over a hole where I knew a large but friendly octopus normally resides, but it wasn’t there. Instead of the octopus in the hole, I found three seahorses huddled together at the entrance. Their tails were wrapped tightly around an old section of encrusted chain.
Because I was just staying in one place the whole time, all the local marine life was either coming over to check me out or just getting on with their busy daily routines. I spent the next 45 minutes just watching the social complexities of a 1m by 1m quadrant of reef. Word must have got out that I was there because all sorts of the harder to find species introduced themselves to me. The only thing I never saw were any red spiny lobsters, but I could hear them all around me, particularly the bucks as they clicked some kind of code at each other.
After the dive, I clambered out of my dive gear and got soaked in the process due to the horizontal rain blowing at me from all directions... but guess what, that has to be one of the best dives I had this year!
Tuesday, November 1, 2016
Poor Knights and the Samba Sound - Day 2
The day kicked off for me at first light. I filled my scrubber canister with a fresh load of sorb (carbon dioxide absorbent), then assembled and calibrated my Inspo’ rebreather ready for the dives.
Rebreather divers Pete Mesley and Simon Mitchell were in Tutukaka for the Oceanz Award dinner from the previous evening and joined us on ‘Arrow’. Gareth decided that he didn’t want to dive so under the supervision of Noel, skippered the boat over to the Poor Knights. The weather was very similar to Saturday’s, with a North-westerly blowing and a messy swell brewing up. This meant that it would only be dive sites on the Southern aspects of the Poor Knights islands that would be dive-able.
We settled on the outside wall of Shaft Cave on Arorangaia Island as the first dive for the day. The entrance to Shaft Cave went from just above the surface of the sea down to a depth of 50m, with a further drop off to 87m below that. I was going to dive with Simon and pose for photographs with the sponges at the deeper depths.
The water was 21C and the visibility was easily 20m. The descent went without a hitch, briefly pausing at 25m just as a check to see that everything was functioning properly, and then on to 45m where Simon left his camera on ledge before we descended further. Following the wall down to a large ledge at 61m, I stopped and watched Simon go to around the 80m mark. A seriously cold thermocline (an often visible and abrupt temperature change in the water) occurred at this depth, so after a few minutes of looking about I ascended back to the ledge where the camera was stored, whilst still watching Simon ascending below me.
Once the camera was made ready with the strobes pulled out on their spindly stalks, we set off along the wall amongst the finger sponges. At this depth they start to increase in size considerably to the ones found in shallower waters. Photos were staged and posed for. Shoaling two-spot demoiselles were keen to get in on the photo shoot and swam about me as I gazed at sponges with my HID torch highlighting the beautiful colours and finer structures.
Using the wall as a guide we slowly ascended, incorporating our decompression stops into the slow traverse of the underwater cliff. My decompression obligation was about 20 minutes shorter than Simon’s. During the shallow stops, we found a surge free zone with overhangs that contained some very diverse ecosystems. To my dismay I came across a lot of intact but dead crabs lying about the ledges. One crab was like no other I’d ever seen before. I just hope that a virus or a toxin is not responsible for causing some of the population to expire.
We surfaced from the last stop at just under two hours from entering in the water, and swam out from the island to get picked up by the boat. This was a really enjoyable dive.
For our surface interval, we stopped off in Southern Harbour and watched the divers coming and going from all the other charter boats. The sea looked quite nasty out beyond the protection of the natural harbour, but was relatively flat within.
The next dive was at “The Rock” again, but this time it was going to be a shallow no-decompression dive. Simon waited for me as I joined him near the top of the lava knoll. Almost immediately, we were joined by a long-finned boarfish who refused to stay in one place long enough to have its photo taken. I swam away from the boarfish, but it seemed to think I was rejecting it so it made a point of swimming right up next to me while I looked out for nudibranchs and banded coral shrimps. Eventually I gave it the slip and found Simon taking photos around the corner. Huge snapper circled above us.
The water was thick with noisy open-circuit underwater photographers, so I headed for the highest point of The Rock and observed a nudibranch laying its spiral egg case. Crested blennies were everywhere and popped their inquisitive looking faces out of the holes in the rhyolite rock. Definitely the place to get a good photo of one. Simon finished taking photographs so he signalled that he was ready to surface and we were back on the boat within a few minutes.
Noel took the boat back to Tutukaka, but before we set off I cleared a space on one of the forward bunks and grabbed the chance of a sleep before my 7 hour drive back to New Plymouth in Taranaki.
--
I noticed during my last dive on the Sunday that my rebreather controllers were showing that cell 3 was giving a reading about 0.1bar above the other two cells. This is usually due to moisture on the cell face. I currently have the rebreather electronics hanging up and drying out, but I’ll keep an eye on it and perform a linearity check before the next dives.
Rebreather divers Pete Mesley and Simon Mitchell were in Tutukaka for the Oceanz Award dinner from the previous evening and joined us on ‘Arrow’. Gareth decided that he didn’t want to dive so under the supervision of Noel, skippered the boat over to the Poor Knights. The weather was very similar to Saturday’s, with a North-westerly blowing and a messy swell brewing up. This meant that it would only be dive sites on the Southern aspects of the Poor Knights islands that would be dive-able.
We settled on the outside wall of Shaft Cave on Arorangaia Island as the first dive for the day. The entrance to Shaft Cave went from just above the surface of the sea down to a depth of 50m, with a further drop off to 87m below that. I was going to dive with Simon and pose for photographs with the sponges at the deeper depths.
The water was 21C and the visibility was easily 20m. The descent went without a hitch, briefly pausing at 25m just as a check to see that everything was functioning properly, and then on to 45m where Simon left his camera on ledge before we descended further. Following the wall down to a large ledge at 61m, I stopped and watched Simon go to around the 80m mark. A seriously cold thermocline (an often visible and abrupt temperature change in the water) occurred at this depth, so after a few minutes of looking about I ascended back to the ledge where the camera was stored, whilst still watching Simon ascending below me.
Once the camera was made ready with the strobes pulled out on their spindly stalks, we set off along the wall amongst the finger sponges. At this depth they start to increase in size considerably to the ones found in shallower waters. Photos were staged and posed for. Shoaling two-spot demoiselles were keen to get in on the photo shoot and swam about me as I gazed at sponges with my HID torch highlighting the beautiful colours and finer structures.
Using the wall as a guide we slowly ascended, incorporating our decompression stops into the slow traverse of the underwater cliff. My decompression obligation was about 20 minutes shorter than Simon’s. During the shallow stops, we found a surge free zone with overhangs that contained some very diverse ecosystems. To my dismay I came across a lot of intact but dead crabs lying about the ledges. One crab was like no other I’d ever seen before. I just hope that a virus or a toxin is not responsible for causing some of the population to expire.
We surfaced from the last stop at just under two hours from entering in the water, and swam out from the island to get picked up by the boat. This was a really enjoyable dive.
For our surface interval, we stopped off in Southern Harbour and watched the divers coming and going from all the other charter boats. The sea looked quite nasty out beyond the protection of the natural harbour, but was relatively flat within.
The next dive was at “The Rock” again, but this time it was going to be a shallow no-decompression dive. Simon waited for me as I joined him near the top of the lava knoll. Almost immediately, we were joined by a long-finned boarfish who refused to stay in one place long enough to have its photo taken. I swam away from the boarfish, but it seemed to think I was rejecting it so it made a point of swimming right up next to me while I looked out for nudibranchs and banded coral shrimps. Eventually I gave it the slip and found Simon taking photos around the corner. Huge snapper circled above us.
The water was thick with noisy open-circuit underwater photographers, so I headed for the highest point of The Rock and observed a nudibranch laying its spiral egg case. Crested blennies were everywhere and popped their inquisitive looking faces out of the holes in the rhyolite rock. Definitely the place to get a good photo of one. Simon finished taking photographs so he signalled that he was ready to surface and we were back on the boat within a few minutes.
Noel took the boat back to Tutukaka, but before we set off I cleared a space on one of the forward bunks and grabbed the chance of a sleep before my 7 hour drive back to New Plymouth in Taranaki.
--
I noticed during my last dive on the Sunday that my rebreather controllers were showing that cell 3 was giving a reading about 0.1bar above the other two cells. This is usually due to moisture on the cell face. I currently have the rebreather electronics hanging up and drying out, but I’ll keep an eye on it and perform a linearity check before the next dives.
Monday, October 3, 2016
Poor Knights and the Samba Sound - Day 1
DAY 1 - Saturday
Tutukaka marina at first lightThe Poor Knights Marine Reserve was the venue for this weekend's diving. I arrived at the Tutukaka marina at 5:30am and grabbed a quick sleep amongst all the dive gear in the back of my station wagon. "Uncomfortable" would have been quite an understatement.
The weather forecast for the weekend was not looking good, but in reality only a slight wind was blowing and the ground swell was relatively manageable on the Saturday. Noel Ericsson, our skipper, guided the Yukon Charters boat 'Arrow' over the bumpy twelve nautical miles of ocean to the Poor Knights southern lying Aorangi Island. My dive buddy for the day was Gareth Bellamy, who was diving his home-built manual closed circuit rebreather.
Our first dive was at a site simply known as "The Rock" off Archway Island. This huge pinnacle-like lump of rhyolite dropped from 6m to 48m on its southern flank, and was covered in sponges and soft corals. Every nook and cranny was filled with nearly every species of triplefin and blenny. Small grey moray eels were spread about everywhere on the walls, some crammed into very tight holes. I even found one jammed into a hole lying upside down and looking ready to pounce on some small unsuspecting reef dweller. I thought it best not to wiggle my gloveless finger in front of it because I’ve seen the lightning fast strikes these guys can make.
The fish life near and on the walls consisted of very territorial black angelfish, shoals of adult and juvenile two-spot demoiselle, blue maomao, pink maomao, red pigfish, kingfish, and a solitary juvenile long tailed stingray. A clown toado (also known as a sharp-nosed puffer) swam about conducting its daily business of nibbling at sponges, bryozoans, and ascidians.
Gareth and myself swam in a counter-clockwise direction around "The Rock", slowly ascending from the depths to the sun-lit summit where our dive boat was stationed. After completing the last of our required decompression, we surfaced and joined the rest of crew onboard 'Arrow' after 75 minutes in the 21C water.
Eastern Archway (The Tunnel)Noel took ‘Arrow’ around to Rikoriko Cave where a samba band had planned to hold a concert on a boat (the sea cave is huge and has superb acoustics, some big bands have played concerts and recorded in there!), but the swell was a bit ugly looking. We ended up catching up with the band in Eastern Arch (also known as The Tunnel) in Arorangaia Island. The acoustics were really good and the band played some great Afro-Brazilian rhythms (when the big drums played and reverberated through the archway, they were out of this world). This was all part of the 25th anniversary of the creation of the Poor Knights Marine Reserve and the Oceanz Awards dinner being held in Tutukaka later that evening.
Our surface interval seemed to pass quickly, and in no time at all we were geared up and were ready to drop down on the second dive site called “Fraggle Rock” which was only a short distance from previous dive site.
The water was crystal clear giving the impression that when jumping off the boat you were going to hit the rocky slopes below, but upon entering we found that there was at least 8m between the rock and the surface. At first glace, the top of the slope looked almost barren but on closer inspection it was buzzing with activity from all the crested blennies and triplefins living in a garden of small bryozoans. We headed down to the white sandy beach that lay in 42m at the foot of the slope. Grey moray eels occupied ledges on the wall and the red spiny lobsters noisily announced their presence from the back of larger holes with cracking sounds.
Heading along the submerged beach with the wall on our right, we soon discovered a swim-through in the lava rock and stole the opportunity to explore it further. Gareth led the way and we quickly found ourselves at the end of a short lava tube section. This lay at the bottom of a crack in the slope that ran all the way from the surface. This was an awesome place to be and I let out expressions of appreciation (the diving of rebreathers allows divers to talk to each other) which Gareth quickly acknowledged.
The wall ended abruptly with a sudden right-angled turn to the right, which we followed for about 20m as it took us into shallower waters. At this point we turned the dive and ascended slowly whilst traversing the wall back to the boat. Shoaling kingfish joined us while we decompressed. Some were even swimming within inches of me which is very rare for these majestic game fish (again, yet another benefit of diving a rebreather… no bubbles to scare away creatures).
Decompression completed and back onboard ‘Arrow’, Noel headed back to Tutukaka. The crossing passed very quickly for me because I fell asleep, no doubt complete with loads of dribble pouring from my mouth and loud snorting sounds emanating from my airways.
Tutukaka marina at first lightThe Poor Knights Marine Reserve was the venue for this weekend's diving. I arrived at the Tutukaka marina at 5:30am and grabbed a quick sleep amongst all the dive gear in the back of my station wagon. "Uncomfortable" would have been quite an understatement.
The weather forecast for the weekend was not looking good, but in reality only a slight wind was blowing and the ground swell was relatively manageable on the Saturday. Noel Ericsson, our skipper, guided the Yukon Charters boat 'Arrow' over the bumpy twelve nautical miles of ocean to the Poor Knights southern lying Aorangi Island. My dive buddy for the day was Gareth Bellamy, who was diving his home-built manual closed circuit rebreather.
Our first dive was at a site simply known as "The Rock" off Archway Island. This huge pinnacle-like lump of rhyolite dropped from 6m to 48m on its southern flank, and was covered in sponges and soft corals. Every nook and cranny was filled with nearly every species of triplefin and blenny. Small grey moray eels were spread about everywhere on the walls, some crammed into very tight holes. I even found one jammed into a hole lying upside down and looking ready to pounce on some small unsuspecting reef dweller. I thought it best not to wiggle my gloveless finger in front of it because I’ve seen the lightning fast strikes these guys can make.
The fish life near and on the walls consisted of very territorial black angelfish, shoals of adult and juvenile two-spot demoiselle, blue maomao, pink maomao, red pigfish, kingfish, and a solitary juvenile long tailed stingray. A clown toado (also known as a sharp-nosed puffer) swam about conducting its daily business of nibbling at sponges, bryozoans, and ascidians.
Gareth and myself swam in a counter-clockwise direction around "The Rock", slowly ascending from the depths to the sun-lit summit where our dive boat was stationed. After completing the last of our required decompression, we surfaced and joined the rest of crew onboard 'Arrow' after 75 minutes in the 21C water.
Eastern Archway (The Tunnel)Noel took ‘Arrow’ around to Rikoriko Cave where a samba band had planned to hold a concert on a boat (the sea cave is huge and has superb acoustics, some big bands have played concerts and recorded in there!), but the swell was a bit ugly looking. We ended up catching up with the band in Eastern Arch (also known as The Tunnel) in Arorangaia Island. The acoustics were really good and the band played some great Afro-Brazilian rhythms (when the big drums played and reverberated through the archway, they were out of this world). This was all part of the 25th anniversary of the creation of the Poor Knights Marine Reserve and the Oceanz Awards dinner being held in Tutukaka later that evening.
Our surface interval seemed to pass quickly, and in no time at all we were geared up and were ready to drop down on the second dive site called “Fraggle Rock” which was only a short distance from previous dive site.
The water was crystal clear giving the impression that when jumping off the boat you were going to hit the rocky slopes below, but upon entering we found that there was at least 8m between the rock and the surface. At first glace, the top of the slope looked almost barren but on closer inspection it was buzzing with activity from all the crested blennies and triplefins living in a garden of small bryozoans. We headed down to the white sandy beach that lay in 42m at the foot of the slope. Grey moray eels occupied ledges on the wall and the red spiny lobsters noisily announced their presence from the back of larger holes with cracking sounds.
Heading along the submerged beach with the wall on our right, we soon discovered a swim-through in the lava rock and stole the opportunity to explore it further. Gareth led the way and we quickly found ourselves at the end of a short lava tube section. This lay at the bottom of a crack in the slope that ran all the way from the surface. This was an awesome place to be and I let out expressions of appreciation (the diving of rebreathers allows divers to talk to each other) which Gareth quickly acknowledged.
The wall ended abruptly with a sudden right-angled turn to the right, which we followed for about 20m as it took us into shallower waters. At this point we turned the dive and ascended slowly whilst traversing the wall back to the boat. Shoaling kingfish joined us while we decompressed. Some were even swimming within inches of me which is very rare for these majestic game fish (again, yet another benefit of diving a rebreather… no bubbles to scare away creatures).
Decompression completed and back onboard ‘Arrow’, Noel headed back to Tutukaka. The crossing passed very quickly for me because I fell asleep, no doubt complete with loads of dribble pouring from my mouth and loud snorting sounds emanating from my airways.
Thursday, September 8, 2016
Post Cyclone Diving
Cyclone Wati threw up a monstrous swell off the West coast of New Zealand and reduced the visibility to zero far out into the ocean. It's a very depressing thing when you can't see the blue line from the shore (saying that, the surf was really up and gave some very solid 3-4m waves to play on).
With the ground swell back to a gentle and occasional pulse it was time to find some cleaner water for a dive. We left Port Taranaki at 8:30am today in the boat "Nitrox" and headed up the coast doing a little fishing en-route. Finally we settled on a spot that we'd dived just the week before but had to abandon due to the cyclone abruptly kicking up adverse conditions.
I kitted up in my dive gear and jumped into the 17C water, did a quick bounce dive to check to see if the site was going to be dive-able and then surfaced to pass on the news that the visibility on the bottom was a variable 3m.
In no time at all I was joined by Ian Swan and Julie Barr, and we set off to explore the reef together. Quickly we found that the visibility was dropping so we all turned about and headed out into deeper water where the better visibility was. Ian and Julie spotted a few crayfish under the lava rock shelves of the reef and began to collect a couple for the dinner table. As agreed earlier, I broke off from them and went exploring some new ground in slightly deeper water. To my delight I found a deep channel with a sandy bottom where the visibility was a good 7-8m in places. Swimming slowly along the channel I came across a large short-tailed stingray lying motionless on the sandy bottom, so without disturbing the sleeping beast, I swam over it and continued down the channel. Deep undercuts lined the walls of the channel system and were peppered with nests of nervous crayfish and swarming shoals of sweep. Small caves, swim-throughs, and archways covered in large orange sponges came and went as I cruised by. By all appearances, the recent storm had not dislodged any of the delicate looking finger sponges and it was business as usual for the fish and other local residents.
Knowing that it was time to head back to the boat I ascended to the top of the channel and crossed over the top of the reef and started back towards the boat. I crossed over lots of deep cuts in the reef until eventually I was back under the boat. I surfaced and was met with a cheery smile from my wife, Irene, who was boatman while we were all diving. A few minutes later, Ian and Julie surfaced and returned to the boat. As we changed out of our dive gear, Irene told us about a possible whale sighting she had while we were in the water.
With the ground swell back to a gentle and occasional pulse it was time to find some cleaner water for a dive. We left Port Taranaki at 8:30am today in the boat "Nitrox" and headed up the coast doing a little fishing en-route. Finally we settled on a spot that we'd dived just the week before but had to abandon due to the cyclone abruptly kicking up adverse conditions.
I kitted up in my dive gear and jumped into the 17C water, did a quick bounce dive to check to see if the site was going to be dive-able and then surfaced to pass on the news that the visibility on the bottom was a variable 3m.
In no time at all I was joined by Ian Swan and Julie Barr, and we set off to explore the reef together. Quickly we found that the visibility was dropping so we all turned about and headed out into deeper water where the better visibility was. Ian and Julie spotted a few crayfish under the lava rock shelves of the reef and began to collect a couple for the dinner table. As agreed earlier, I broke off from them and went exploring some new ground in slightly deeper water. To my delight I found a deep channel with a sandy bottom where the visibility was a good 7-8m in places. Swimming slowly along the channel I came across a large short-tailed stingray lying motionless on the sandy bottom, so without disturbing the sleeping beast, I swam over it and continued down the channel. Deep undercuts lined the walls of the channel system and were peppered with nests of nervous crayfish and swarming shoals of sweep. Small caves, swim-throughs, and archways covered in large orange sponges came and went as I cruised by. By all appearances, the recent storm had not dislodged any of the delicate looking finger sponges and it was business as usual for the fish and other local residents.
Knowing that it was time to head back to the boat I ascended to the top of the channel and crossed over the top of the reef and started back towards the boat. I crossed over lots of deep cuts in the reef until eventually I was back under the boat. I surfaced and was met with a cheery smile from my wife, Irene, who was boatman while we were all diving. A few minutes later, Ian and Julie surfaced and returned to the boat. As we changed out of our dive gear, Irene told us about a possible whale sighting she had while we were in the water.
Thursday, August 18, 2016
Good Vibrations
I haven't managed to get as much diving as I'd liked to do this summer, but the dives I have been on were certainly memorable. The underwater scooter has been really useful and allowed me to explore vast areas of reef around the Taranaki coast.
There is a common belief that the noise of a scooter drives fish and other marine animals away from the diver, but to the contrary I've found it to be the complete opposite. While I was scootering over a magnificent reef in South Taranaki, I flew over a group of large boulders and at first appearance there was no life around them. Just the unusual shapes of the boulders got my attention, so I started to do tight circles and figures of eights over them as I studied the formations. Within no time at all I started to spot movement from under the boulders. A moving mass of large crayfish (red spiny lobsters) started to crawl out of their hiding holes. Reef dwelling fish like red moki, mao mao, and various wrasse also just appeared as if from nowhere. Wow! I even had a couple of fly-bys from some stingrays.
I'm not sure if the marine creatures were just being incredibly inquisitive about the noise and vibrations from the scooter, but it does go a long way to dispelling the myth of scootering about and never getting to see the sea life.
There is a common belief that the noise of a scooter drives fish and other marine animals away from the diver, but to the contrary I've found it to be the complete opposite. While I was scootering over a magnificent reef in South Taranaki, I flew over a group of large boulders and at first appearance there was no life around them. Just the unusual shapes of the boulders got my attention, so I started to do tight circles and figures of eights over them as I studied the formations. Within no time at all I started to spot movement from under the boulders. A moving mass of large crayfish (red spiny lobsters) started to crawl out of their hiding holes. Reef dwelling fish like red moki, mao mao, and various wrasse also just appeared as if from nowhere. Wow! I even had a couple of fly-bys from some stingrays.
I'm not sure if the marine creatures were just being incredibly inquisitive about the noise and vibrations from the scooter, but it does go a long way to dispelling the myth of scootering about and never getting to see the sea life.
Monday, August 1, 2016
Deep Blue
A wee while ago I headed North for three days and drove the 500km (310miles) to the small East coast village of Tutukaka for some diving out at the Poor Knights Islands.
On the way up, Ian Swan, his trusty camera, and myself, all jumped into the warm clear water at Goat Island Marine Reserve, near Leigh. Here we were molested by the gigantic shoaling snapper, mao mao, and kelp fish. We even saw a mermaid! (Ian has the photographic evidence... okay, it was actually a young lady in a skimpy bikini that had swum out to Goat Island from the mainland and passed over us while we were milling about in the shallows. A very memorable sight.)
Our dives in the Poor Knights were awesome as usual. First port of call was a dive off the back of Landing Bay Pinnacle to 60m. The visibility was amazing down there, we looked out over the downward sloping white sands that dropped off to beyond our gaze and into the ever deepening blueness of the water. As we ascended spiralling up the pinnacle to our designated decompression stops, the visibility dropped to about 20m but this was easily forgotten about as we watched vast swathes of fish moving about following the tidal driven plankton masses.
The second dive of the day was at Middle Arch. On the bottom of the lava slope at 30m in some broken reef, a mosaic moray lay still apart from the gentle bobbing of its head. It watched patiently as Ian approached. Once Ian was within a few centimetres of moray’s gaping mouth, it obliged with graceful posturing as the camera snapped pictures of the transparent but deadly sharp teeth that mosaic morays' have. Once the photo shoot finished, Ian and myself found ourselves heading up the slope and into the archway. Here we had the honour of being joined by a large sunfish (mola mola), but as usual I was not paying any attention so was not until I got back to the boat I first heard about it (I was the only person not to see the beast and I had to endure a ribbing from our skipper, Noel, about not being very observant!) I did however manage to have a couple of juvenile eagle rays to do a fly past right next to my head, but Ian just missed catching a photo of it.
The next day, we stopped off at Landing Bay Pinnacle again and planned a dive into the Taravana Cave system that went deep into the interior of Tawhiti Rahi Island (Taravana I'm told means crazy). The swim to the entrance took us down the western flank of the pinnacle and then over to the mouth of the cave which bottoms out at 36m. Ian was on open circuit (OC) and had twinned cylinders, but it was very critical that we stayed within the gas supplies available to us for the duration of the dive and decompression (plus reserves). As per the plan, we headed deep into the blackness of the cave. Our lights highlighted the abundant life on the cave walls and the gorgonian fans on the ceiling. The 250m penetration to the back of the cave went very quickly. Here Ian took photos as I posed with a small statue for the camera. We made our way back to a point where a narrower passageway breaks from the main cave and we followed it to the second of the Taravana Cave's entrances. The blue light was flooding in the entrance and in no time we were doing decompression stops on the colourful walls above the main entrance. Ian seized the opportunity to capture some more pictures while we hung around on deco.
To finish off the day's diving, Noel took us to Cleanerfish Bay. There was everything from stingrays to large crayfish hidden in the kelp covered boulders that went to 23m. I got to hold Ian’s new HID dive light while he took pictures of a Gem Nudibranch that was happy to pose for him.
The only bummer of the trip were the bloody mosquitoes that effected a perfectly executed midnight break-in into our accommodation and devoured copious quantities of our blood while we tried to sleep... “buzzzzz!”
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
Rust on the beach
Bow of the Gairloch
Just off my favourite local surf spot at Weld Road lies the scattered rusting hulk of the shipwrecked steamer 'Gairloch'. When the tide is low you can walk out to the bow section and examine the crafted mass of rusting steel. Having foundered on the reef over 100 years ago (January 5th, 1903), the Gairloch has become a protected historic wreck under New Zealand law.
Gairloch's boiler
On a spring tide you can get access to the ships boiler and starboard bulkheads which lie further out on the reef, and with the use of a snorkel and fins you can see the inside of the boiler from a rusted hole in the bottom where it is still attached to the ships superstructure.
Just off my favourite local surf spot at Weld Road lies the scattered rusting hulk of the shipwrecked steamer 'Gairloch'. When the tide is low you can walk out to the bow section and examine the crafted mass of rusting steel. Having foundered on the reef over 100 years ago (January 5th, 1903), the Gairloch has become a protected historic wreck under New Zealand law.
Gairloch's boiler
On a spring tide you can get access to the ships boiler and starboard bulkheads which lie further out on the reef, and with the use of a snorkel and fins you can see the inside of the boiler from a rusted hole in the bottom where it is still attached to the ships superstructure.
Saturday, April 30, 2016
Day and Night Diving
Yesterday I headed up the North Taranaki coast to dive the site of one of the newest marine reserves in New Zealand, the Parininihi Marine Reserve (an area known locally as the White Cliffs). It was a shore dive with Ian Swan that started out as a phone call in the early afternoon to discuss the weather and general sea conditions around the Taranaki coast. As always, I was keen for an opportunity to get wet so I quickly snapped up the chance of diving up at the White Cliffs.
Ian took his quad-bike to transport both us and our dive gear up the black iron sand beach. The wind had dropped back to a gentle breeze and the surface of the sea started to look quite settled with only a slight swell throwing up small breaking waves on the shore. The quad was parked up in the hard sand directly below the cliffs and we pulled on our dive gear. I entered the surf with fins in one hand and the underwater scooter in the other. Waves broke over the top of us as we pushed our way through the maze of rounded boulders until we were deep enough to pull on our fins comfortably. Once we were ready, Ian took command of the scooter and drove out of the white water with me holding onto his fins... what a buzz! :o)
Unfortunately, we soon discovered that the visibility was going to be a problem as it dropped quite markedly as we got deeper. This was indeed quite cruel as the surface water was looking very clear. The occasional fish swam past but it was seen only as a dark blur, so I called to end the dive. Normally this area is blessed with abundant fish life, soft corals and exotic sponges, but there was no way we were going to get to experience them on this dive.
In no time at all we were body surfing back to the beach on the waves. I was given a quick reminder that boulders lay just beneath the surface as I crashed off a few on my less than elegant attempt to get to my feet at the waters edge, even Ian was completely inverted at one point trying to protect the scooter from crashing off any rocks during his exit.
Not beaten, I suggested a night dive in New Plymouth. After dark at 9:30pm, Ian and I jumped into Port Taranaki. The water was a bit on the murky side due to the dredging operation to deepen the main shipping channel into and around the port, but we soon found the clear water lying outside the port. Our torches lit the water up exposing all the nocturnal marine species, with eels skimming just off the surface of the sand and crayfish wandering about over the boulders. The daytime fish just carried on sleeping in the natural shelves created by the many boulders, seemingly oblivious to our presence.
I had agreed with Ian that we were to stay within very close proximity of each other throughout the dive. This was to ensure that neither of us had any entanglement problems on all the fishing line that had been lost by eager fishermen. Because of this close style of diving it’s not unknown to occasionally bump into your buddy. About 30 minutes into our dive, I was aware of Ian being slightly above me and to my right. Whilst I was finning gently forward with my torch held out in my right hand, I felt a downward pressure being exerted on my head and right hand. Automatically I thought that it was my dive buddy passing over me, so I pressed the back of my hand upward to ward him off and position him away from my mask which was being dragged off my face. But then I felt a sweeping motion against my arm and face… almost like a ripple of downward force. To my surprise the light of my torch lit up a white rippling surface just as I realised it was a huge stingray swimming over my back and pushing me downwards with it! Not wanting to get at the wrong end of the stinger in its tail, I turned to my left quickly whilst holding the ray at bay with the back of my right hand. It’s tail slowly passed by me (the stingray held its tail in a relaxed and lowered position) and I immediately recognised the beast. This was a short-tailed stingray that I’ve swum with for the last few years on both day and night dives around this area. What a rush!!!
After following the ray to the sandy seabed, I returned to Ian and tried to explain using wild gestures what had just happened to me, but I could see from his expression that he thought I had gone mad so I left it to the end of the dive to ask if he saw all the excitement… but unfortunately (or maybe even fortunately) he had missed seeing the ray trying to get up close and personal with me.
--
The stingray (scientific name: Dasyatis Brevicaudata) that brushed up against me is no stranger to investigating night divers. A few years back whilst out with some students, it swam in from behind and using its immense size pushed us all aside only to rest immediately in front of us on the seabed. It is more than happy to be stroked on its wings and underside when you lie beside it. Sometimes it swims in front of you and expects you to follow it about, even slowing down to allow you to keep up with it.
A couple of pods of orca (killer whales) had moved north along the Taranaki coast merrily munching on the eagle rays and stingrays in the last few weeks, so it’s good to know that this local resident had survived another raid.
Friday, March 18, 2016
Lava tunnels and caves
Sunday was a looking to be an awful day weather-wise with strong winds and an increasing swell forecast, but at 8am the sea actually looked okay enough to take ‘Nitrox’ (Ian Swan’s excellent dive boat) out for a spin. Onboard was Irene (my gorgeous wife), Ian Swan (Nitrox's skipper), Shaun Rohloff (an all-round good bloke), and myself.
We headed out of Port Taranaki to Saddleback Island at the back of the Nga Motu Marine Park. Ian and Shaun jumped into the water for a dive on a kelp covered boulder slope going to a maximum depth of 27m. The water was 16C and the visibility was a bit poor giving only 4m on the bottom, but despite this both divers remained in the water for almost an hour in their wetsuits. Ian, being a shrewd hunter located a good sized crayfish (red spiny rock lobster) and returned it to the boat at the end of the dive.
The next dive was down the coast on some new ground that we’d never dived before. Using the bottom sounder we located some interesting formations in 20-23m of water. Showing up as 5m drops with undercuts, the ground looked promising. With Nitrox at anchor, I jumped into the water and followed a shot line to the bottom. Initially, the ground looked almost average with 1-2m high lava ledges with a black sand bottom. The fish life was not very exciting either, with only the occasional wrasse coming over to me for a look. I started to swim out from the shot line when out of the 3m vis. water dark shapes stared to appear around me. I headed over to one such dark mass to discover a 4m high lava outcrop which was undercut creating a huge overhang that could be swum down. On the roof were pockets or holes full of crayfish of all sizes. I continued to swim down the undercut until I popped out at the end. Then in front of me was a large tunnel through a lava mass, so I swam down its length to the light at the back. Juvenile crayfish lined the roof and walls, larger ones were walking about on the floor totally ignoring me… this was amazing to see!!! I swam through mini archways, into little caves, and over the top of the lava structures themselves. The area it covered was huge. Delicate sponges, oblique-swimming triplefins and shoaling maomao, and even a john dory swam around with me.
Obviously this was a very important area in terms of restocking Taranaki's crayfish population. The one disappointing thing I did see was the remains of a commercial crayfish pot lying broken up in one of the cuts in the main lava formation. One can only hope that this gem of a dive site is not abused and lost to the generations of new divers that have yet to discover it.
--
Whilst preparing for a deep dive with Ian Swan earlier last week, I turned up with all my gear ready to dive. After calibrating the rebreather, pulling on my drysuit, and then preparing for the pre-breathe at the dive site, I went for my fins only to discover that I'd managed to leave them at home! The moral: Prior Planning and Preparation Prevents a Piss Poor Performance. Sorry for muffing up our deep dive Ian. :o(
Here is a picture of a not so typical seahorse that I found today in only 3m of water on a dive with Julie Barr and Ian Swan in Port Taranaki. This particular seahorse had five spikes on top of its head whereas it is more usual to see seahorses in Taranaki without any spikes at all. The overall length was about 20cm long and it performed a few subtle colour changes as it posed for photos. Ian took the photo with his Olympus 5050 digital camera and underwater housing.
We headed out of Port Taranaki to Saddleback Island at the back of the Nga Motu Marine Park. Ian and Shaun jumped into the water for a dive on a kelp covered boulder slope going to a maximum depth of 27m. The water was 16C and the visibility was a bit poor giving only 4m on the bottom, but despite this both divers remained in the water for almost an hour in their wetsuits. Ian, being a shrewd hunter located a good sized crayfish (red spiny rock lobster) and returned it to the boat at the end of the dive.
The next dive was down the coast on some new ground that we’d never dived before. Using the bottom sounder we located some interesting formations in 20-23m of water. Showing up as 5m drops with undercuts, the ground looked promising. With Nitrox at anchor, I jumped into the water and followed a shot line to the bottom. Initially, the ground looked almost average with 1-2m high lava ledges with a black sand bottom. The fish life was not very exciting either, with only the occasional wrasse coming over to me for a look. I started to swim out from the shot line when out of the 3m vis. water dark shapes stared to appear around me. I headed over to one such dark mass to discover a 4m high lava outcrop which was undercut creating a huge overhang that could be swum down. On the roof were pockets or holes full of crayfish of all sizes. I continued to swim down the undercut until I popped out at the end. Then in front of me was a large tunnel through a lava mass, so I swam down its length to the light at the back. Juvenile crayfish lined the roof and walls, larger ones were walking about on the floor totally ignoring me… this was amazing to see!!! I swam through mini archways, into little caves, and over the top of the lava structures themselves. The area it covered was huge. Delicate sponges, oblique-swimming triplefins and shoaling maomao, and even a john dory swam around with me.
Obviously this was a very important area in terms of restocking Taranaki's crayfish population. The one disappointing thing I did see was the remains of a commercial crayfish pot lying broken up in one of the cuts in the main lava formation. One can only hope that this gem of a dive site is not abused and lost to the generations of new divers that have yet to discover it.
--
Whilst preparing for a deep dive with Ian Swan earlier last week, I turned up with all my gear ready to dive. After calibrating the rebreather, pulling on my drysuit, and then preparing for the pre-breathe at the dive site, I went for my fins only to discover that I'd managed to leave them at home! The moral: Prior Planning and Preparation Prevents a Piss Poor Performance. Sorry for muffing up our deep dive Ian. :o(
Here is a picture of a not so typical seahorse that I found today in only 3m of water on a dive with Julie Barr and Ian Swan in Port Taranaki. This particular seahorse had five spikes on top of its head whereas it is more usual to see seahorses in Taranaki without any spikes at all. The overall length was about 20cm long and it performed a few subtle colour changes as it posed for photos. Ian took the photo with his Olympus 5050 digital camera and underwater housing.
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
Nudibranch and octopus
The title sounds a bit like a recipe for a none too appetising seafood platter but it actually best describes my dive off the Tutukaka coast at the weekend.
I was attending a farewell gathering held in Tutukaka for Phil Bendle and his amazing wife Faye before they returned to Taranaki to enjoy their retirement. Prior to his retirement two years ago, Phil had been the skipper of the outstanding charter boat ‘Norseman’ for two decades, taking underwater photographers and divers to the world famous ‘Poor Knights Marine Reserve’. Just from seeing those who attended, it was very apparent to see how much Phil and the Norseman contributed to the development of diving in New Zealand.
My dive started with a drive around the local coastline. There was not even a hint of swell on the ocean, so my surfboard stayed stowed in its bag (every time I take the surfboard the sea is flat, but when I don’t take the surfboard the surf breaks are absolutely pumping… go figure!). Luckily I'd packed my dive gear in addition to the surfing gear, so I eventually settled on a dive site near the mouth of the Tutukaka Harbour. Having scrambled down to the rocky beach in my dive gear, I eagerly entered the water. At 20C the east coast water was considerably warmer than in Taranaki, and the visibility was verging on 20m.
About 30 minutes into my dive, I pulled myself through a tight swim-through in the lava rock formations making up the fish infested reef and something caught my attention. It was a sharp bright green colour on a slightly darker patch of green algae. The contrast was only really possible because of the clear water and having the midday sun directly overhead, but it certainly stood out even to me and I’m colour blind! Upon closer inspection, I saw what looked like a green butterfly with vibrant little blue spots dashed about it’s “wings” and body. The head had the most beautiful graduated blue coloured rhinophore (stalk like organs used to smell odours in the water). I got the surprise of my life when I put my gloved finger next to it to get a sense of its size… it was tiny compared to my finger’s width weighing in at about 16mm in length. This was a perfect illustration of how objects appear 25% larger in water than on the surface. I stayed watching the rarely seen nudibranch (later identified as Elysia Sp. 4) for over 10 minutes as it grazed away on the algae. I finally said my goodbyes and left it merrily chomping away.
I had only moved about 1m away from the nudibranch when I looked up into the piercing gaze of an octopus’s eye. A rush of excitement gripped me and I soon manoeuvred myself to within 80cm of its head. The tentacles were all rolled up in the small hole it was hiding in except for one. This tentacle, I presumed, was the one it was using to catch anything that walked/swam close enough to be grabbed and digested. The octopus had matched the surrounding rocks, sponges, and seaweeds with its perfect camouflage colouration, but it also remarkably pulled its flesh to form little spikes to better match the texture of the background reef. It took ages before the octopus accepted that I was no threat to it and slowly rolled out its free tentacle towards me. Just before the tentacle touched my dive suit the octopus started to pulse the colour pigments in its eye in a rapid rolling black to light grey pattern and then it stopped short of touching me, gently retracting the tentacle. I took this to mean it might have been a bit stressed by my presence so I backed off and gave it some space.
Finding lots of swim-throughs and dark undercuts in the reef, I played about with the smaller fish that were taking refuge in there. Shoals of juvenile fish like bigeye and two spot demoiselles peered out from the sanctuary of their hiding places. It was not long before I discovered another much bigger octopus. In no time at all, it was time to be returning to shore and I took a bearing for the beach. Swimming around the large pinnacles and lava rock outcrops, I snaked my way back at full steam. Taking a break from the swimming in 6m of water I stopped, but something took my attention from the corner of my eye. Looking right, I saw the familiar shape of an octopus, but this was no ordinary octopus because it was bloody huge in size and was spanning the entrance to a cave with it tentacles fully stretched out effectively blocking the entrance. I could hear rock lobsters cracking away from within and it looked like they were about to become dinner for the octopus!
The dive was soon over as I approached the abruptly sloping beach. Suddenly I saw a panicked motion in front of me. I had no idea what it was that was trashing about in the shallows trying to escape the water so I surfaced the last metre popping my head out of the water to hear screams of terror! Through my mask I could make out a family with young children retreating quickly up the beach. Apparently my sudden unidentified appearance in the water had startled the children who were paddling at the waters edge and they had bolted for the safety of dry land! :o)
I was attending a farewell gathering held in Tutukaka for Phil Bendle and his amazing wife Faye before they returned to Taranaki to enjoy their retirement. Prior to his retirement two years ago, Phil had been the skipper of the outstanding charter boat ‘Norseman’ for two decades, taking underwater photographers and divers to the world famous ‘Poor Knights Marine Reserve’. Just from seeing those who attended, it was very apparent to see how much Phil and the Norseman contributed to the development of diving in New Zealand.
My dive started with a drive around the local coastline. There was not even a hint of swell on the ocean, so my surfboard stayed stowed in its bag (every time I take the surfboard the sea is flat, but when I don’t take the surfboard the surf breaks are absolutely pumping… go figure!). Luckily I'd packed my dive gear in addition to the surfing gear, so I eventually settled on a dive site near the mouth of the Tutukaka Harbour. Having scrambled down to the rocky beach in my dive gear, I eagerly entered the water. At 20C the east coast water was considerably warmer than in Taranaki, and the visibility was verging on 20m.
About 30 minutes into my dive, I pulled myself through a tight swim-through in the lava rock formations making up the fish infested reef and something caught my attention. It was a sharp bright green colour on a slightly darker patch of green algae. The contrast was only really possible because of the clear water and having the midday sun directly overhead, but it certainly stood out even to me and I’m colour blind! Upon closer inspection, I saw what looked like a green butterfly with vibrant little blue spots dashed about it’s “wings” and body. The head had the most beautiful graduated blue coloured rhinophore (stalk like organs used to smell odours in the water). I got the surprise of my life when I put my gloved finger next to it to get a sense of its size… it was tiny compared to my finger’s width weighing in at about 16mm in length. This was a perfect illustration of how objects appear 25% larger in water than on the surface. I stayed watching the rarely seen nudibranch (later identified as Elysia Sp. 4) for over 10 minutes as it grazed away on the algae. I finally said my goodbyes and left it merrily chomping away.
I had only moved about 1m away from the nudibranch when I looked up into the piercing gaze of an octopus’s eye. A rush of excitement gripped me and I soon manoeuvred myself to within 80cm of its head. The tentacles were all rolled up in the small hole it was hiding in except for one. This tentacle, I presumed, was the one it was using to catch anything that walked/swam close enough to be grabbed and digested. The octopus had matched the surrounding rocks, sponges, and seaweeds with its perfect camouflage colouration, but it also remarkably pulled its flesh to form little spikes to better match the texture of the background reef. It took ages before the octopus accepted that I was no threat to it and slowly rolled out its free tentacle towards me. Just before the tentacle touched my dive suit the octopus started to pulse the colour pigments in its eye in a rapid rolling black to light grey pattern and then it stopped short of touching me, gently retracting the tentacle. I took this to mean it might have been a bit stressed by my presence so I backed off and gave it some space.
Finding lots of swim-throughs and dark undercuts in the reef, I played about with the smaller fish that were taking refuge in there. Shoals of juvenile fish like bigeye and two spot demoiselles peered out from the sanctuary of their hiding places. It was not long before I discovered another much bigger octopus. In no time at all, it was time to be returning to shore and I took a bearing for the beach. Swimming around the large pinnacles and lava rock outcrops, I snaked my way back at full steam. Taking a break from the swimming in 6m of water I stopped, but something took my attention from the corner of my eye. Looking right, I saw the familiar shape of an octopus, but this was no ordinary octopus because it was bloody huge in size and was spanning the entrance to a cave with it tentacles fully stretched out effectively blocking the entrance. I could hear rock lobsters cracking away from within and it looked like they were about to become dinner for the octopus!
The dive was soon over as I approached the abruptly sloping beach. Suddenly I saw a panicked motion in front of me. I had no idea what it was that was trashing about in the shallows trying to escape the water so I surfaced the last metre popping my head out of the water to hear screams of terror! Through my mask I could make out a family with young children retreating quickly up the beach. Apparently my sudden unidentified appearance in the water had startled the children who were paddling at the waters edge and they had bolted for the safety of dry land! :o)
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