The Great Annual Fish Count

The route from my house to Gloucester is fast becoming ingrained in my mind, as I made the trip for the third time this week in order to participate in the Great Annual Fish Count, hosted by the New England Aquarium Dive Club and the Reef Environmental Education Foundation (REEF). My destination for the day was Stage Fort Park, where I met up with Holly Bourbon, a former Senior Aquarist at the NEAq and current Biologist and Dive Safety Officer at the MA Department of Marine Fisheries. We suited up to do our survey at one of the park’s beaches; given the rain of the past few days we weren’t expecting much in terms of visibility, but once we got a bit off shore the water cleared up to about 15′ or so of vis, enough to get some decent fish ID in. As I dove, I compared this fish count to the numerous surveys I conducted in Panama; though the objectives were the same in both cases, it was clear that doing research up here, in cold, murky water, required a distinctly different skill set and approach that that of working in tropical conditions. Though my powers of observation paled in comparison to Holly’s, I managed to spot a few well-camouflaged sculpins, as well as a number of small winter skates, a couple of lobsters, and countless hermit crabs.
Once back on shore, we met up with Bob Michaelson, the New England coordinator of the Great Annual Fish Count, delivered our findings, and helped out as dozens more divers showed up over the course of the day with their own data from sites all along the New England coast. The final tally was 119 divers conducting 140 dives and spotting 45 species of vertebrates, making this the largest fish count in the GAFC’s 8-year history. It was great to see so many divers turn out for this event and collect so much useful data. We finished the day off with a raffle, where I unfortunately did not win the grand prize trip to Bonaire, but instead ended up with a quite useful backup dive light. I’ll certainly return for next year’s Great Annual Fish Count, and not just because I want another chance at winning that trip…

Diving the Chester Polling

My DUI drysuit came in handy again today as the male members of the Frank Scalli Interns — Rick Simon, Ryan Hunter, and myself — met up at Cape Ann Divers to dive one of the most popular Gloucester wrecks, the Chester Polling. We were the only divers that day, so we had the entire 45-ft charter boat to ourselves; more importantly the weather and water were perfect, with minimal swells and no current, and once we got down to the stern we were treated to 30ft visibility, ideal conditions for this dive. On our first dive, Rick showed me around the base of the hull and into the massive hole where the bow sheared off from the stern section. After lunch, I took the videocamera down to the deck of the Polling and recorded the diverse organisms that reside there, ranging from baby seastars to anemones to schools of red snappers. A good set of easy, interesting dives; I can see why the Polling is so popular, as I certainly intend to return sometime and explore it further.

Cat Cove Marine Laboratory

After a short break in the internship, I set off to Salem to work with Dr. Joe Buttner at the Cat Cove Marine Laboratory. Dr. Joe and Salem State College have been working with the Massachusetts Department of Marine Fisheries since 2006 to study methods to restore softshell clam (Mya arenaria) populations in the Boston Harbor and surrounding area. Upon arrival, a lab assistant showed me around the Cat Cove lab, where millions of softshells are raised from birth–when they are roughly the size of a grain of rice–until they are large enough (>10mm) to be seeded in the intertidal zone of nearby beaches. Dr. Joe explained how clams in these seeded plots not only reach maturity and full size quicker than normal but also attract softshells already in the ecosystem, further increasing the population density and reproductive rates at the seeded beaches. After touring the facility and going over the data collected so far in this program, I grabbed shovels, waders, buckets, and a pair of waterproof boots and hopped in a truck with Dr. Joe and three of his assistants to ride out to Quincy. We planned to sample softshell sizes from a series of plots seeded the year before, and were racing to take advantage of the low tide.
Once we made it to the beach I witnessed an impressive phenomenon; though the change at low tide was only expected to be -5 ft, the extremely flat profile of the beach we were at meant that, at low tide, almost a quarter-mile of the intertidal zone was exposed! When we arrived only a corner of the nearest plot was visible, but within minutes the first line of plots, which measured 12ft x 50ft, were completely exposed; I could actually watch the waterline visibly recede after each wave passed by. Of course, what goes out must come back in, so we set to work immediately to try and sample all the plots before the tide turned and came rushing back in.
At each plot, we randomly selected 3 one-square-foot samples to dig out; the mud from each was then carefully sifted out in a nearby outlet of water, and any live clams were counted and measured. The first plot yielded only one clam, but we struck gold on the next few plots, pulling out 20+ clams in each sqft sample. These clams varied in size from 30mm to 70mm, and we even managed to find a few live razor clams among all the softshells. Despite starting an hour and a half before low tide, we barely had time to gather samples from half of the plots before the water poured back in and threatened to wash away all our equipment. We returned to the truck as the sun set on a day of hard, dirty, but thoroughly satisfying work; the life of a Marine Biologist might not be glamorous, but I think the grin on my face was evidence enough that it can be quite enjoyable.

New England Aquarium: Final Day

I started my last day at the New England Aquarium back at the Giant Ocean Tank; Myrtle was (as always) the most fun to feed, but I also had a great time working with the large porcupinefish in the exhibit, who hadn’t been hungry the last times I had surface feed duties. What’s so cool about feeding them (besides the fact that they are two-foot long puffballs that look like they could turn into a giant balloon at any moment) is how they eat; porcupinefish only have a flat plate of fused teeth on their upper and lower jaw, so to consume their prey they first ingest it and then spit it out partially and suck it back in multiple times, grating the food down against their plates each time and giving the impression that they’re trying to repeatedly blow bubbles with their food. The process by which they inhale their food (quite literally) is the same way that they rapidly intake water or air to inflate when threatened, and while I never saw any of the porcupinefish in that beachball-like state, I did manage to surprise a lot of the visitors when I coaxed one of the fish to break the surface and inhale (loudly) for its food, creating a sound very much akin to a whale’s blowhole (or a very violent sneeze.)
After lunch, I once again donned my Scuba gear in preparation for the 1:15 maintenance dive. It struck me how, in just the two months or so that I’ve been diving with this gear, I’ve grown quite used to it; at the start I never thought I’d want to give up my old BC, regulator, and dive computer (all of which I love so dearly,) but after over 30 dives in this gear I’m beginning to doubt I’ll go back. All the dive equipment that Bob Boyle (of Undersea Divers) donated has worked excellently for me, and for that I am very thankful.
But I digress–back to the Aquarium, where I prepared to jump back into the GOT for one last dive with Myrtle, the Sand Tiger Sharks, and everything else that makes that exhibit so unique and entertaining to experience. My dive buddy for the day was the assistant aquarist Dan Dolan, continuing the streak of dive buddies at the NEAq with the exact (or very similar) first name as mine. Dan was more than willing to get some footage of me in action, filming video while my family–who had arrived minutes earlier–shot still photos and waved excitedly through the glass. Apparently a number of the visitors remarked to my mother about that “brave young man diving in there with all those ferocious sharks,” comments that I’m sure made her very proud (and amused me to no end. Though I felt pretty good about them too.) I certainly didn’t want to leave the tank, and Dan was nice enough to let me linger a number of minutes past the planned run-time to wave to the visitors, film extreme closeups of the sharks passing at barely arms-length away, and scratch Myrtle’s back a few more times for good measure, but too soon it was time to surface again. I may never get a chance to dive in the GOT again, but the memories I have (to go along with the amazing footage I took) will always remain with me.
Speaking of amazing footage, after de-robing from my gear and wetsuit I had to race back downstairs, camera in hand, in time to jump into yet another wetsuit (of the much thicker 7mm variety) and help out with the afternoon feeding session in the Penguin exhibit. I had the opportunity to feed the Little Blues again, and this time I managed to avoid getting quite as many scratches on my fingers. However, the little penguins were still quite a handful to deal with. A number of them were entering into their yearly molt and, as such, were gorging themselves on fish; one little guy in particular kept bullying the other penguins out of the way (a behavior we don’t encourage nor reinforce,) and it took quite a bit of dexterity and patience to get each fish to the proper penguins without him snatching it out of my hand (or their beaks.) However, I still managed to get everyone fed, and after that I took the camera, still in its Gates housing, to get some underwater footage of the African penguins. I managed to get some great shots of the birds gracefully diving into the water and swimming by, while some of the more curious ones swam up to (and pecked at) their reflection in the dome of the housing, netting me some excellent close up footage. Feelings were again bittersweet as I left the exhibit, uncertain if I’d ever get to be in such close proximity with such interesting creatures ever again; but then again, the Aquarium is always looking for capable volunteers, and who knows–maybe next year will find me back on exhibit at the NEAq as a summer volunteer, intern or even co-op (a college credit program offered in many of the departments at the Aquarium.) I certainly had an amazing time in my week spent at the New England Aquarium; I owe a lot of thanks to the phenomenal staff and volunteers I worked with, who can somehow take the mundane acts of thawing fish, chopping up squid, scrubbing guano, and more and turn them into fun, unforgettable experiences.

New England Aquarium: Penguins Again

Back in the Penguin exhibit today, and while much of the day’s work mirrored that of Tuesday’s, two very cool things happened. First, Paul Leonard tasked me with feeding the Little Blue penguins. Little Blues, also known as Fairy penguins, are the smallest species of penguins–many visitors to the aquarium mistake them for juveniles–and also happen to be my favorite, so I was very excited to get to work so closely with them. Feeding penguins can be a bit tricky, as you have to put the fish directly into the bird’s mouth before they’ll grab and eat them. This leads to a delicate balancing act, as one must push the fish far enough that they’ll grab on, but not so far that they’ll grab onto one’s fingers. After a few minor bites, I got the hand of things, and managed to get everyone fed and learn to identify a few more birds in the process.
Once feeding was done, everyone jumped straight into cleaning the exhibit, with even more vigor than usual. You see, we’d just found out that morning that Jeff Corwin, of Animal Planet fame, was at the aquarium to shoot a PSA on global warming, and would be in the penguin tank at 11AM sharp to film with the Africans. This didn’t leave us much time to clean up after the morning feed, so we had to work extra hard to get everything looking pristine for the cameras. I had the privilege of staying in the tank while Mr. Corwin was being filmed, and used to opportunity to take some notes on how a nature documentary crew goes about their work. It was great to see Jeff speaking from his heart, rather than using a script, and the penguins sure loved him; Possession, an male African who had taken a shine to following me around the entire tank, climbed up next to Jeff and nuzzled his leg during the entire shoot, while Plum Pudding and In-guza, a breeding pair, took the opportunity to get a bit…intimate right next to him, resulting in a lot of laughs from everyone involved.
After the filming was done, Jeff toured the rest of the tank and then heading off to get some footage with the fur seals, while we all fell back into the same routine; celebrities may come and go, but the animals are always there, and they are always hungry!

Lake Huron, Day 5

Well, the weather almost didn’t permit, but we fortunately were able to dive the Mary Alice B on my last day here in Lake Huron. The morning weather reports, as well as the trees surrounding the Stayer’s house, indicated fairly strong winds that would not die off until the late afternoon–too late to wait for and still have a 24 hour interval before my flight the next day. We decided to take the boat out and judge whether or not the dive was doable once we made it to the wreck, located roughly eight miles northeast of Lexington Harbor. Upon arriving at the dive site, we encountered 1-2 foot rolling swells, which would be no problem whatsoever, if not for the ripping surface current. Jim and Pat Stayer were not planning to dive the wreck, due to some ear issues, so I was to go down again with Deb Dubeck. I got into the water and kicked with all my might to get to the mooring line on the bow, but Deb, who was diving with a set of doubles, could not make it up against so strong a current. It looked like the dive might be canceled after all, but Jim decided to give his ear a try and got suited up (thank goodness all his gear was still on the boat!)
Down we went on the line, unsure of what the conditions would be like when we reached the wreck. The Mary Alice lies in 92ft of water and often visibility is poor; as well, there can be a strong current on the seafloor, much like what I’d experienced diving the Regina. However, as we dropped down deeper and deeper, we found some of the best conditions possible, with no current whatsoever and 50′+ visibility–enough to see clearly from the bow to the stern of the sunken tug resting upright and pristine on the lakebed. The wreck is in such great condition that I was able to enter the wheelhouse, spin the wheel back and forth a couple of times, then go around to the galley, open the door (which peeled open without any resistance) hover over the kitchen sink, perfectly intact. After surfacing into now 2-3′ white-tipped swells, we decided not to attempt a second dive, and instead end the trip on that successful note. That evening, Jim and Pat regaled me with stories of conducting the first ever dive on that wreck–Jim found intact dishes still waiting to be washed in that galley sink–and we headed into town to film (and enjoy) the local fireworks display. All in all, a great end to a great trip, and another successful stage completed on this amazing internship. Next up–working with penguins and diving with sharks at the New England Aquarium!

Lake Huron, Day 4

Storm clouds threatened as we headed out to sea lake on the morning of my fourth day in Michigan, so we quickly adjusted our destination; instead of diving the Price, the first dive of the day would be the Regina. Both ships were large freighters that sank during a fierce storm in 1913; the Regina (250′ long) settled upside-down in 77′ of water. Though the lake surface was smooth as glass when we arrived at our mooring on the bow, we found a decent current moving towards the stern when we hit bottom. Unfortunately, Pat’s regulator started free-flowing from the primary stage as soon as we hit the upturned keel, but after getting her back to the surface I was able to complete the dive with the Stayers’ good friend Deb Dudeck; despite not having dove the Regina in a number of years, she proved to be quite the capable guide, helping me find crates of cargo, portholes, and the ship’s name, still legible on the bow.  We had intended our second dive to be on the stern of the ship, but the buoy was missing and the current too strong for us to free-descend; instead, we headed back to the Sport to get some more footage (this time, with the proper weights!) Tomorrow–weather permitting–we’ll dive one of the most intact wrecks in Lake Huron, the Mary Alice B. (discovered by none other than Jim and Pat Stayer!)

Lake Huron, Day 3

The storm finally left us overnight, and Jim and Pat Stayer were quick to jump on the opportunity to get some wreck dives in. We loaded up gear into their boat–including cameras to film both topside and underwater–and sped off to the first dive of the day, a 56′ tugboat named the Sport. This boat is famous for being the first tug built with steel to cruise the Great Lakes; despite sinking in 1920 she remains in excellent condition, with an intact hull and easily visible boiler, prop, and steering wheel. The first thing I noticed when descending the Sport, however, was how quickly I sank to the bottom; turns out I’d forgotten to adjust my weights for freshwater diving, and was a good 5 lbs heavy. This caused some buoyancy issues while filming, but I still managed to get some great footage of the wreck and the countless gobies swarming over it.
After diving the Sport, we heading back inshore to dive a shallow wreck located less than a mile off the harbor–the Eliza Strong. This 200′ wreck is in a bit more disrepair than the Sport; it seems that, not too long after sinking 1901, the Army Corp of Engineers decided to “flatten” the Strong with over half a ton of dynamite so that there would be at least 20′ of clearance over the ship. What remains are long lengths of deck boards, lots of scrap metal (including a number of large, hand-forged nails,) and countless fish seeking refuge in the scattered ruins. This time, with my weight corrected, I glided effortlessly around the wreck, capturing good footage of the debris (despite the runoff from the recent storm, visibility was at least 25′) and even discovering a sizable channel catfish hidden among the planks. On both dives, my new DUI drysuit continued to do its job perfectly; despite the water temperature being a good 30 degrees lower than Panama, I never felt cold at all.

Lake Huron and the Stayers, Day 1

After a weekend’s respite, I returned to the action again, this time at Lake Huron, where a surprisingly tenacious storm has blown out our chances to dive for the past two days. Fortunately, the extra time on land allowed me to catch up on logging and capturing all the footage I took in Panama. Pat and Jim Stayer, my gracious hosts (and excellent cinematographers) gave a number of tips for recording and managing all the footage I’m accumulating this summer, as well as some invaluable tips for underwater color correction (though the Sony HC3 captures beautiful detail in hi-def video, it’s auto-white balance leaves something to be desired.) My editing workload will be a lot more manageable–and less stressful!–thanks to their input and advice. And it couldn’t come at a better time, as the next few days promise to rack up the footage as the three of us head out to film some freshwater wrecks.

Panama, Day 12

Another deep dive today, to 120′ this time. Now that we had been exposed to some of the challenges of deep diving, we were given a more specific assignment, to document distribution of various marine species at depth. This time around, everyone was prepared for narcosis at depth, no matter how subtle, and as a result our dive went a lot smoother. Even though two divers experienced significant, noticeable narcosis, everyone performed their checks properly and recorded usable data at depth; the only “victim” was one diver who, lured by Terrence gesturing at something at the seafloor, hit 128′ before she realized what he was up to. But for that, the dive went quite smoothly, and we were rewarded with the spotting of a large hogfish at 110′–the first decent sized game fish we’ve seen this trip–as well as a pair of squid hovering over the reef at 30′ that pulsed various shades of blue as we drifted by.
The rest of the day was spent relaxing onshore, but as the sun started to set we cast off again, heading back towards Portobelo Harbor for a night dive at the San Marinas reef. Though lighting difficulties limited the quality of the footage I could capture on that dive, it was still very enjoyable to cruise around the reef wall at 60′, observing the bioluminescence, various crustaceans, and (finally) a definite glimpse of an adult octopus, who was unfortuantely securely buried in a rock face so that only his tentacles protruded out in sight.
Tomorrow will bring us our final dive, which promises to test our experience and take us to the recreational depth limit of 130′. These past few dives have been a great capstone to all the learning and fun we’ve had on this trip; Panama will sorely be missed, though I can’t wait to see what’s next to come in this incredible internship.

Panama, Day 11

On Friday, we hopped in the boat at 0900 to take a half-hour ride to a freighter sunk about a mile off the Panama Canal entrance. This roughly 150′-long cargo ship was intentionally sunk in the mid 1970s, and we wanted to observe how much coral growth and fish activity the wreck contained now, 30 years later. That close to the canal entrance, we weren’t expecting good visibility, but were pleasantly surprised when we broke through a murky halocline at 15′ and could clearly see the wreck, located 45′ below. For a fairly recent wreck, the freighter had considerable coral growth, especially on the sheltered stern side, where we spotted a few sea cucumbers and starfish. On the exposed top deck, multiple schools of fish flitted around, including a group of docile spadefish that let us drift next to them, just inches away, without flinching. One of the most impressive finds on the dive was a large blue tang, measuring about ten inches in length, that darted in and out of the exposed substructure and we coasted overhead. Overall, a great wreck; unfortunately I, assuming the worst for visibility, neglected to bring the Gates housing–make that one more lesson learned: always bring the videocamera!

Panama, Day 9

Today was the day we’d been planning quite some time for, the day we’d make a dive past the century mark! I know some of the readers of this blog will yawn at that number, but for myself and most of the divers on this trip, who are not deco-trained, any opportunity to further our training at depth is eagerly anticipated. The dive plan was laid out thoroughly, and Dr. Illife and Terrence gave everyone a few simple tasks to do at depth; they also cautioned us on the effects of nitrogen narcosis as depth increases, but all the students seemed to think, “We’ve felt fine at 90+ feet, how much worse could that extra ten feet be?” (I bet you can see where this is going…) Well, we did the dive, spent ten minutes at 110′, and then carefully rode our no-decomp limits as we gradually ascended the reef. Back on the boat, I was chagrined to hear of a multitude of minor problems that had occurred at the bottom–people forgetting to do some of the tasks, (which only involved giving our safety divers a time check at 5 minutes, a PSI check at 8, and then a “one minute until ascend” warning at 9 minutes,) or losing track of time, or even unintentionally breaking the strict 110′ depth limit we had set, and almost running into deco! I personally had felt no symptoms of narcosis, and had no problem completing the tasks mentioned above, but quite a few people appeared to have been hit in some small way. Terrence revealed that that was the point of this dive, and the tasks he and Dr. Illife had assigned; nitrogen narcosis does not necessarily manifest itself in obvious ways, but even at just past 100 feet it can have a considerable effect on a diver’s ability to function properly. I was glad to have passed the test, as it were; that dive was certainly an eye opener, and a reminder of the caution and alertness all divers must display whenever diving the limits of recreational scuba (and beyond.)

…But not all of today was about somber lessons! After lunch, while some of the group finished a rocky shoreline survey for the last research project, myself, Dr. Illife, and four other students went on a rain forest hike. We started on a sizable dirt trail, fording numerous streams as we viewed the wide variety of flora, but after about an hour the trail ended in a thicket of date palms, and we decided to bushwhack ahead and try to summit the large hill, or loma, that we’d already started to climb. The next half hour was a grueling experience, as we braved mud, entangling vines, spiky trees, and ants the size of my thumb (only slightly exaggerating,) but in the end it was worth it, for we made it to the top and had a stunning vista of Portobelo Harbor, Drake Island, and the Caribbean sea stretching out in front of us. The path down was just as challenging as going up–at times we had to use nearby vines as ropes and essentially rappel down the steeper portions of the loma–but the grins evident on our mud soaked faces when we returned to the trail made it clear that we had had quite the adventure. On the way back, we encountered a truck that had skidded off the trail, a group of young Panamanians splashing in a pool that, judging from their startled looks, mistook us for Los Diablos Blancos, and a passing flock of chickens, but we still made it back just in time for dinner! …Though we did have to clean up a bit, first.

Panama, Days 7-8

The halfway point of this trip found our group hard at work on a number of research projects. On Monday, we took a day off from diving; the morning was spent on a flat-bottomed boat, touring a series of mangrove swamps to collect data on the organisms found in such an environment. Besides the numerous crabs that scuttled up prop roots, across tree branches, and (occasionally) all over our boat, we spotted kingfishers, giant termites nests, scarlet ibises, green- and blue herons, squirrel cuckoos, and a two-toed sloth (who was moving far faster than one would normally expect a sloth to.)
That afternoon, we returned to the shallow bay we had explored on the 11th, in order to conduct some quadrant surveys on the large sea grass beds found there. Yours truly spotted a pair of small squid hiding among a fallen branch, and then discovered why it is a good idea to wear a weight belt when filming underwater, even if just snorkeling in swim trunks: I had to grab a rock about half the size of my head in order to sink down far enough to get a decent shot of the cephalopods.
We had originally planned a deep dive to 110′ for Tuesday morning, but had to switch plans when Terrence had to make an impromptu trip to Panama City that wouldn’t bring him back until later that afternoon. We delayed that dive until Wednesday, and instead revisited two sites near Drakes Island. At the first site, a large and and (apparently) curious Queen Angelfish followed us around the reef for the majority of the dive, while during the afternoon trip I got some excellent footage of a school of tangs and parrotfish grazing the algae off of a large brain coral specimen. That evening, I took the Gates housing to film some coral transects that we had set up just offshore from the hotel, and discovered another important thing to check for when shooting: make sure there is enough tape left! Fortunately, I got the footage I needed with not a second left to spare, and was able to unwind afterwards, playing guitar with some of the locals and learning a couple of new songs.

Panama, Day 6

Up until this point in the trip, all of our dives have been fairly close to shore, on fringing reefs generally within a quarter of a mile of land. Well that changed today, when we had the amazing opportunity to take a half hour boat ride offshore to dive a Cobia farm. This farm consisted of an octohedral shaped net (think two pyramids aligned base-to-base) that stretched a good 75′ tall, from 15′ feet at the mooring line to 90′ at the bottom, where a series of chains anchored it to 2-ton cement blocks at the ocean’s bottom, in 150-160′ of water. Inside the net were countless masses of Cobia, schooling around and feeding off a central support pillar–apparently over $1 million worth of fish were contained within that cage. We descended it in a ripping current and swell, crawled/slid down the top pyramid, then flipped over the side and descended, hand over hand, down the overhang of the bottom half–when we later watched the footage I had shot, Terrence remarked how we all looked like a group of howler monkeys descending down a massive jungle gym (it certainly felt that fun!) Our evening was spent relaxing after the strenuous (but thoroughly enjoyable) dive; at one point Ray, our go-to guy for just about everything at the hotel, produced a set of acoustic guitars and he, another student on the trip, and myself made our way through a series of songs, from Hotel California to Wish You Were Here, while other group members joined in on vocals and even bongo drums. Who knows, maybe at next Saturday’s live music night, the Tropical Ecology Class of Texas A&M might be playing a set or two for the patrons of this wonderful establishment!

Panama, Day 5

Today was a blast, but also a blur; it seems that, now that a routine has been established, these days will start to run by quickly, and all to soon I’ll be aboard a plane bound back for the US of A. But until then, I’ll keep enjoying every minute of the time spent here, and logging all my wonderful experiences.
Today’s first dive brought us back to the site where I’d first tried out my camera system; but this time, we planned to dive with the current–much to the relief of my legs, which were already sore enough after the lunges we had done for PT this morning while cradling full tanks. And what a difference going with the current makes! Even with the camera, I maintained the same air supply as most everyone else on the dive, and the payoff was great when we hit a vast swath of healthy reef at 20′ near the end of the dive–beautiful color, lots of fish, and a wide variety of corals to log and identify. Shortly before our second dive, a large thunderstorm rolled through our neck of the rainforest, forcing us to change our planned dive–of another coral tube system (for which I had my gloves ready!)–and instead head the opposite direction to a wall dive in somewhat reduced visibility. We rode out, already drenched and with reduced expectations of the dive to come, but as soon as I jumped into the refreshingly warm water and watched the raindrops pattering on the sea surface as I free descended, I knew that this was going to be an enjoyable dive. And I was not disappointed, for we all experienced one of the most relaxing and pleasant dives of our trip yet, an easy cruise along the reef wall at 70′, followed by another great spur-and-groove coral reef at 30-20′. I personally was able to practice with the camera a lot, not having to worry about a tugging current or steep drop-off, and saw some great sights, the most notable of which was a mature female reef crab, whose carapace measured a good 10-inches wide, at least; we all observed her from a safe distance, none eager to accidentally be on the receiving end of her vicious claws.
After the dives, we gathered around the big screen TV at the bar to review the footage I had shot so far, which amounted to about an hour’s worth; it was interesting to watch the noticeable improvement in the footage quality for each dive, as I became more and more used to handling a camera underwater. Terrence even offered some great tips and suggestions for further improving my camera skills, which I will gladly utilize on tomorrow’s dives. The evening found us all enjoying succulent grilled carne asada and live music from our dive master’s local band; I even had the opportunity to join in on the guitar for a rendition of Clapton’s “Wonderful Tonight,” and promised to practice with the dive master all of next week so that I can try a few more songs at the next performance. Until then…

Panama, Day 4

‘Twas the fourth day in Panama, and already a distinct routine had set in place. I arose to the (now expected) 630 knocking on the door, signaling PT time with Terrence–there’s nothing like working out with a former Navy SEAL to give perspective on how out of shape you are. After the vigorous workout, we all snorkeled out into the bay to free dive a sailboat sunk in roughly 20′ of water, where Terrence once again showed us all up by doing laps around the 32′ vessel like the dolphin we’re pretty sure he secretly is. Breakfast at 730 sharp, then setting up gear for a 900 launch to our first boat dive of the day: Las Tres Hermanas (The Three Sisters.) I was able to get some great footage on this drift dive, including of a pair of scorpion fish and a large, rust colored trigger fish that no one has yet been able to identify. After the dive we motored over to a shallow lagoon to explore a red mangrove habitat and the shallow tidal zone, where I witnessed a tiny coral shrimp, no bigger than my fingernail, attack what I first took to be a drifting piece of seagrass, only to exclaim in surprise when I noticed the crab legs sticking out–my first ever decorated crab sighting!
Lunch followed the lagoon, then an hour break to nap, shoot pool, or catch up on our coral identification research, and by 1400 we had all loaded into the boat again for the second dive of the day: a downed Beechcraft airplane next to a series of coral swim-through caves. Due to earlier rain, the visibility at the plane was less than ideal, but it was still great to observe all the fish taking refuge in the shadow of an intact wing, and to stick my head into the fuselage and observe the sponge and coral growth inside the gutted shell. More intriguing were the coral tubes, which required a bit of dexterity, patience, and perfect buoyancy control in order to navigate through spaces barely wider than myself that rose and descended as much as fifteen feet and were often silted out–certainly not for the faint of heart, or inexperienced diver. Some of our group who had been diving in just a rash guard and swim trunks (and sometimes not even the rash guard!) emerged from these swim-throughs with a number of battle wounds and vows to wear a full wetsuit from then on (yours truly merely made a note to bring gloves next time any tight spaces and sharp rocks are involved.)
The evening was, as it always has been, a time for decompression; a time to enjoy the scrumptious local fare (I have developed quite the affinity for fried plantain) go over the dives of the day, discuss the dives to come, and then break up to listen to music, practice our trick shots, read a book, or just simply hit the sack early; these days are jammed packed, and by the time 2300 rolls around, it is a relief to collapse into our single beds, ready to fall into sweet slumber until seven hours later, when we’ll do it all over again.

Panama, Day 3

Our third day in the Republic of Panama started with a bit of a setback, as, due to strong currents that morning, we were unable to dive the 18th century Spanish tall ship wreck that we’d planned on. However, we still had a good reef and drift dive in the current, and I started to shoot with the Sony HC3 video camera and housing that had been donated to the internship by Gates Underwater Housing. It’s quite the learning experience to be swimming up a strong current with a large box, no matter how neutrally buoyant it may be, and I wasn’t surprised to find I was one of the first divers to hit the 500psi mark at the end of that dive. The afternoon found us in a spur-and-groove reef formation, where one of the group managed to discover a rare marine arthropod called a sea spider (no word as to whether or not they have sea webs.) The best part of the day came afterward, when we stopped to snorkel in a shallow bay and discovered a pristine beach that housed three distinct mircoecosystems–a rocky tidal area, a sea-grass bed, and numerous miniature reef outcroppings. in less than two feet of water, we managed to find a scorpion fish, two stingrays, a porcupine fish, juvenile parrotfish, a school of guppies, and countless wrasse, brittle stars, and sea urchins.

Panama, Day 2

Today was a day of many experiences, starting with our first boat dive of this trip. We loaded up our gear at 8:30 and jetted out to Drake’s Island, named after the infamous pirate Sir Francis Drake who rumors say was buried in a lead coffin not far away. We were uncertain what the visibility would be like, after having to deal with some silt on the previous night’s dive, but broke out a in relieved smiles when we moored in 35′ of water and could see quite clearly down to the sea bottom, and grinned even more when we jumped into the perfect, 83F water. Our first dive took us around a large circular reef, where I saw the biggest spiny lobster of my life (I swear his antennae measure a good foot long, alone!) as well as a mating pair of french angelfish and a juvenile spotted drum. After lunch (and the first of what promises to be many warm tropical downpours,) we headed back to the other side of Drake’s Island for a wall dive. Drifting along in a pleasant little current, we spotted a moray eel, more octopus gardens (but alas, no cephalopods yet,) and more exquisite specimens of coral; it’s quite remarkable how, for a coast with a significantly silty seabed, the coral just flourishes around here–not quite as abundantly as some pacific locations I’ve been too, but in size, some of the individual organisms give Hawaiian coral a good run for its money. The reefs here are definitely about quality, not quanity, and it’s been a pleasure so far to dive them.
But not all of our Panama trip is about diving! After our second dive, we hopped in a van and heading into the historic town of Portobelo, where we explored a 19th-century spanish fort, built out of local coral, as well as a local church that houses a giant carved statue of Jesus know as the “Black Christ” (for the dark wood used in the scuplture) that is annually paraded around town, carried on a platform supported by 80 men! Always eager for “authentic experiences,” we sampled the local soft drink of choice, which was (quite accurately) described as “moxie, but slightly more palatable”…definitely an aquired taste, that one. Upon returning to Octopus Garden, I attempted to maintain my run of victories at the pool table, only to be dethroned by none other that Terrence himself (don’t believe for a minute his claims of being “inexperienced” at pool.) Oh well, tomorrow holds the promise of a 18th century wreck dive, more excellent cuisine, and (hopefully) a shot at redemption at 9-ball.

Panama, Day 1

Waking up at 4 AM is usually never fun, but when the impetus is a trip down to the Caribbean side of the Republic of Panama, well, I can manage. A five-hour flight out of Houston landed myself and the rest of the Texas A&M University at Galveston’s Tropical Marine Ecology class in Panama City, Panama, and after a short bus ride (including a requisite stop at the famous Canal for pictures) we found ourselves at Octopus Garden dive hotel, in the historic town of Portabelo. Within minutes we were introduced to the small (but very friendly) group of hotel staff, and set up in air conditioned rooms (a blessing in the humidity of this country, which generally is, at minimum, 80%!) After a delicious dinner of the hotel’s signature dish–octopus in a coconut cream sauce–we set up for our first Caribbean dive, a night dive in sponge reefs just a stone throw from the hotel’s ocean deck. 20 feet down, when the visibility cleared, we were treated to a long reef wall, replete with large coral specimens, parrotfish, schools of vibrant blue gobies, and a few spiny lobster, not to mention a number of the hotel’s namesake octopus nests, or “gardens”. After a few rounds of pool (yours truly remains undefeated at 9-ball,) we retired to our lodgings, ready to get up at 6:30 tomorrow for a long day of diving!

Boston Sea Rovers
Boston Sea Rovers