Revillagigedos - Part 1 of 4

I'm typing this on the flight home from Los Cabos, though I started writing it while I was still in my hotel in Cabo San Lucas. It was an interesting little hotel, right in El Centro, if there is an El Centro in Cabo. It's just a few steps from the entrances to both Sodom and Gomorrah. Still, the hotel isn't much like the rest of CSL, a plain little place, inexpensive, and unassuming. There seems to be a regular community of US expatriates, though I have no idea how long they stay there.

The dive trip was awesome, for the most part. Though the diving started a little slowly for me, the Revillagigedos definitely lived up to my expectations, and more. I say "for the most part" because in the midst of the great diving, I had some gear related mishaps and some moments of reflection on the way humans treat our oceans. More on both of those topics later as both are very much related to the theme of this blog.


Manta and friend

The boat (Nautilus Explorer) was wonderful. It's a large (116 feet), steel liveaboard, and with it's large keel, stabilizing fins, flume tank roll stabilizer and just sheer mass, it rides very well. Fortunately, we didn't put the ride to the test too much as we had nice flat seas for the bulk of the trip. The crew was great, professional and safety conscious. The vessel is Canadian flagged and operates under the aegis of Canadian Transport with the same basic requirements for procedure and safety as a cruise ship. As I mentioned in a previous post, I was onboard as an extra crew member so was able to see some of the behind the scenes safety meetings and processes.

The guests were a nice mix of people from different countries and backgrounds. I had a great time getting to know them, and I think my English accent is getting better. However, my Irish accent "is crap" as guest Derek was kind enough to point out a couple of times. I played an international game of scrabble with a Brit, an Italian and a Netherlander. I did win, but felt pretty stupid in that I barely beat two people for whom English is not only a second language, but one of several second languages.

Las Islas Revillagigedos are a loosely affiliated group of 4 islands about 260 miles southwest of Cabo San Lucas... OK, well, 3 islands and a rock - a wonderful rock. In fact, I think it is now my favorite rock in the entire world. They are claimed by Mexico, which protects them as part of marine reserve system. They are uninhabited, with the exception of a small naval and research facility on Socorro Island. Socorro is the largest of the 4. Depending on what side of the island you view it from, it looks like a volcanic desert or the green coast of Scotland. Clarion Island is much further away and we chose not to visit it on this trip. Some of the endemic species get their name from this island, such as the beautiful Clarion Angelfish and the Clarion Damselfish.

San Benedicto Island is almost completely covered with ash (from a 1952 eruption) with lava flows extending out into the sea. There is so much ash that visibility can suffer when there is a large surge, though fortunately that was not a problem on our trip. Even so, we did have to flush the ash out of the water purification system.


Lava Flow at San Benedicto

Finally, Roca Partida is a rock sticking up out of the ocean about 60 miles to the west of Socorro. It is the remnants of the plug of an ancient volcano that rests on the shoulders of the rest of the volcano, the top of which sit at about 230 feet and which then plunge down to about 10000 feet.


Roca Partida (no, that isn't snow...)

Revillagigedos - Part 2 of 4: The Diving

Giant Pacific Mantas are the star of Revillagigedos diving. There was one point at which I saw at least one manta on 11 dives in a row. On the 12th dive, (an early evening dive) there were 3 mantas feeding at the surface, so I could have seen one on that dive as well, though I chose to head away from them to try to get a glimpse of the juvenile galapagos sharks I had seen on a previous dive during that time slot. I've seen mantas before, but I had not seen them a) so large and b) so friendly. There were times when they would literally swim right up to me (or any of the other divers), and hover above me, just asking to be petted. While I am not usually into touching the animals, these mantas do seem to enjoy it so I indulged myself and rubbed some manta belly. Amazing.


Manta

Mantas weren't the only thing to be seen though. We saw numerous hammerheads, galapagos sharks, silky sharks, white tip sharks, silver tip sharks, and tiger sharks. The silver tips sharks are a new favorite shark. They aren't quite as shy as some of the other species, are pretty stocky, and swim around like they mean business. I only saw one tiger, but it was a good sized shark, probably in the 12 foot range, big enough to have lost much of it's stripes. I was kind of disappointed in my shark photography, though I need to keep some perspective and remember that these sharks are not being baited and so do not consistently do close approaches like they did in Guadalupe. Still, I could have done better... yet another reason to go back.

If Mantas were the main course, and sharks the cake, then the frosting had to be the dolphins. While we saw dolphins at the surface several times and a couple of people saw dolphins on scuba earlier in the week, I didn't see them until the morning of the last dive day - though it was worth the wait. The first dolphin I saw started chasing a single black jack out of a school of about 50. It chased a particular jack, staying focused on that individual, and chased it until it tired out. The other jacks seemed do be indifferent to the action. Sometimes the dolphin would coast for a bit, but it stayed after that same jack. Finally, after a good 5 minutes, there was a break in the action as bits of former jack made a little mess in the water. The dolphin left for a bit, then it (or another that looked just like it) came back and repeated the show. To top it off, after that dolphin got it's jack, a mama dolphin with a two foot long baby came and munched on a jack in the same manner, with the baby chasing along with every twist and turn.





Dolphins chasing jacks

At the risk of metaphoric overload, there was also a cherry on top of the frosting. I had spent many of the dives with a family from England (3 boys and their mother) The boys called their Mum "Dobby" after the house-elf in Harry Potter (she had a great sense of humor, or rather humour, about it). We usually took the last skiff together after all of the more gotta-be-first divers left on the first two skiffs. I was pretty happy with this arrangement as it meant that we often had the dive site to ourselves for 20 minutes or so at the end of the dive. The boys were very comfortable, relaxed divers, and seemed like natural magnets for big animal encounters. We spent many dives together hanging out in one spot for most of the dive.

As a great dive at Roca Partida was winding down - after YAECME (Yet Another Excellent Close Manta Encounter) - I was chilling out at 30 feet or so, staring idly at the rock. I slowly spun around and was surprised to see a whale shark swimming towards me. I got a couple of quick shots before watching it swim off into the blue. It was an unexpected visitor - small (18-20 feet) for a whale shark. We weren't expecting whale sharks at all, since under normal conditions, the whale sharks leave the area as the water cools, and the Nautilus stopped seeing them this year in November. Apparently, this particular shark didn't get the memo. The most fun part of the whole encounter was how excited Dobby was about it - it was her first whale shark sighting. She shrieked with joy, danced around the boat and pretty much let everyone know she had seen it and they hadn't. Fortunately, the whale shark made another pass on the subsequent dive, or we may have returned to Cabo short one house-elf.





Surprise Whale Shark

And to top all of that off, much of the time this whole procession of sharks, mantas and dolphins was choreographed to the songs of humpbacks whales, who were nearby with their pups. Watching humpbacks is a great way to spend a surface interval... we were treated to fin slaps and waves and a couple of spectacular breaches. Awesome.

More Photos

Revillagigedos - Part 3 of 4: Ghost Net

On the long trip out to the islands, Tricia told me about an abandoned fishing net that they had discovered on a previous trip. The net was approximately 500 meters long, laying over the rock and reef at a dive site named Giant's Causeway, located on San Benedicto Island. During the last trip, they were able to remove about a third to half of the net. We planned to remove as much of the rest as possible during my trip. The net was already known to have killed several mantas and sharks, plus at least one turtle and numerous smaller creatures. Though we wanted to do this with as little disruption to the guest's diving as possible, the plan was explained to them and they were very supportive of our effort.

Being an "extra", I wasn't sure what role they wanted me to fill. I was guessing that they'd probably have me heaving on the line from the surface (an exhausting, stinky job) - I really didn't care as long as I got to pitch in in some way, and if not, I'd get to take some photos of it. When we arrived on site, I was informed I was going to be one of the 3 divers extracting the net from the reef, so I found my knife and EMT shears and got ready to go.

The net was draped on the rocks and coral at 90 - 110 feet. Divemaster Sten dropped in first and floated one end of the net with a lift bag. The basic strategy was for the two guys in the skiff to pull upward on the net as Divemaster Tricia, Divemaster Buzz and I freed the net from the bottom. To do that, we pulled the net when we could, and cut parts of it as we needed to. It's not easy work, and we blew through our air at about double the normal rate.

Down we went, and I started pulling and cutting. I was very focused on the job and Tricia even later made a comment about my intensity. I saw some of the little creatures swimming out from the net. No, they weren't trapped like their larger cousins, but it is still an ugly sight. On behalf of my species, I apologize. I wish I could do more to clean up the mess we've left here for you, and more importantly I wish I could promise it won't happen again.

I came up upon a spot where the net drapes from one rock to another, spanning about 10 meters. We freed this section, and I looked down to see a pile of large bones and pieces of cartilage. Several large creatures met their end here - an awful waste. I picked up a spinal column bone - it was large, almost as big as my fist. I'm guessing it was from a manta, though it may be too solid. As I gathered myself and rested a moment for the next section, I noticed that my mask was leaking. For some odd reason, the moisture on my face wasn't quite as saline as the sea water and didn't actually appear to be coming into my mask from the outside. Strange.

Buzz ran low on air and headed for the surface. Tricia and I kept pulling and cutting for a few minutes more. Tricia then asked me how much air I have left - answer: not much. She moved us ahead about 15 meters, and we cut the net crossways, needing to cut through the much thicker nylon supporting rope. We went back and kept freeing, hoping we'd make it to the cut. I ran out of air first, and Tricia a minute or two later. We got aboard the skiff where Engineer Tim and Divemaster Sandy were laboring to bring the last bit of the net up. I'm guessing we freed about 150 meters. There is still one section down here, but it is no longer draping across open areas so it is less of a threat. The rest will come up quickly on the next trip.


All black Manta

The net, which by this time was starting to ripen a bit, was hoisted up on to the top deck where it will dry in the sun next to the piece that was previously removed. Once the last section is brought up, the crew will arrange for it to be transferred to a conservation organization in Mexico where it will be destroyed. They do not want it going to a landfill where it would probably get repaired and put back into service.

It was a bittersweet day. I felt good about doing something positive, but it was a stark reminder of how humans continue to rape the oceans.

The next day, we saw a boat anchored about 300 meters from us. Keep in mind that we had not seen another boat at the Revillagigedos, other than the single Mexican Navy boat at the Naval Station and their skiff, and that the islands are 260 miles from the mainland. It was a small, uncovered panga style boat, perhaps 20 to 25 feet long, with no name on it. Four persons were onboard. They had about 15 large gasoline containers. In order to have a place to sleep, they pulled the containers out and floated them in a line, the empties riding high and the full ones just poking above water level. After a terse conversation with them, they claimed to have come down from La Paz (about 350 miles), but did not state what their purpose here was. Fishing is illegal in the Revillagigedos and they did not have enough room on the tiny boat to bring back much fish anyway. They had to have spent a thousand or more dollars on fuel. They weren't here for a pleasure cruise - most likely they were either running cocaine or shark finning. My guess is that they were wannabe sharkfinners, hoping to make a quick buck.

I don't have any photos of the net but I may get some from some of the guests who were able to shoot it. If I do, I will post them here so you can see what it looked like.

Revillagigedos - Part 4 of 4: Gear Trouble

As I mentioned earlier, I had some gear issues on this trip. In the past I've had pretty good luck with my photo gear. Not so on this trip as I had 3 gear mishaps.

Drysuit neck seal: I ripped the neck seal. I do have DUI zip seals, so could've brought a spare. I will in the future.

Flooded strobe: Before we left for Revillagigedos, I went out for a couple of local dives in the Cabo San Lucas area. My strobe was working fine then, but apparently flooded either towards the end of the 2nd dive, or, more likely, during the rinse. I had not noticed it until I started setting up on the way out to the islands. I rinsed it out with alcohol and let it dry, but it still didn't function properly. I enlisted the help of Engineer Tim, who did an amazing job trying to resurrect it. He opened it up and dried it out in the dry heat of the engine room. He got it working again with exception of the focus light, which I don't use anyway. We tried it in the camera rinse barrel, and it immediately flooded again. I was pretty sure that when he replaced the big internal o-ring, he didn't clean it (Tim's hands are never actually clean) nor put any silicon grease on it. So, we repeated the process (did I mention how tiny the screws are in an Inon strobe?), this time taking proper care of that o-ring. Another day of drying, and it started working again. Another rinse tank test, no flood this time. It was looking good, so I hooked it up to the housing and took it diving. First flash, perfect, second flash, fine, but that was it, it started flooding again. Game over. Thanks for playing. The autopsy did not reveal the cause of death. I had replaced the main o-ring (which did not look like the problem) after the first flood, so that wasn't it. I suspect that it was one of the dial o-rings. The strobes are 4 years old and have seen a lot of service. Still... it sucked. Tim did a great job trying to get it to work.... but we had no chance at getting to the dial o-rings.

Smashed dome port: While the other 2 mishaps may or may not have been my fault, this one definitely was. I was working on my housing, replacing batteries in the strobe. I left it too close to the edge of that camera table, we took a roll and crash, the housing hit the deck, so to speak - the steel deck. The crashing, crunching noise was a sickening sound. The housing looked ok, but my dome port, which I needed for all the big stuff on this trip, lay in about 25 pieces on the deck. Damn, I can't tell you how crappy that felt.

The Subal dome port is made of 4 main pieces, the glass dome, the mount, the dome shade, and the o-ring. My dome shade constituted most of the pieces... no chance of repairing it. The mount and the o-rings were fine, other than being separated. The glass itself was not broken, but had some nicks in it. Engineer Tim to the rescue again... he was actually out on the back deck when it happened, and immediately went to work trying to fix it. I wasn't so sure it could be fixed. It was not obvious how to put it back together and even more non obvious how to make it stay together under 4 atmosphere of pressure. We did figure it out, though, and after about 30 minutes, we had it back together. First test was in the rinse tank, without the camera, of course. Amazingly, it held. Next test, strap some weight to it, and, with some rope, drop it down to 20 feet. Then down to 70 feet. Still holding. So now, it's big decision time. Do I dare to put my camera in it and go for a dive? Keep in mind, this camera alone is 3 BTU's, plus the lens is another BTU (see my earlier post Conspicuous Consumption for the definition of a BTU). But, damn, I really want this thing to work... I mean, ya gotta have a wide angle lens for mantas, sharks, dolphins... so, I gave it a shot, keeping a close eye on the leak detector light. Amazingly, it held for the rest of the trip, and other than the missing dome shade, worked fine. Thanks Tim.

Between the strobe and the dome port, it is going to be a pretty hefty Amex bill this month.

TTFN....

Back in a couple of weeks.



Crap, I'd better start packing.

Ok, etiquette....

[Sorry Jeff, I'll do editing tools next. Besides, you are pretty much set with Lightroom as far as I can tell.]

Diver and photographer etiquette seems like one of those topics that's a) talked about a lot b) pretty damn obvious and c) despite a&b, often ignored.

We've all had it happen to us, more times than we'd like.... A wayward fin smacking you in the face, someone kicking up silt just as your sailfin blenny starts to display, someone hogging the hogfish cleaning station - these are all examples. I also include people bumping, bashing, sitting on, dragging gear across, kicking, and otherwise torturing the reef.

I think the issue really comes down to self-awareness. Most people are not all that self-aware to begin with - then strap on 50 lbs of gear and 2 foot long foot extensions (which unfortunately do not contain nerve endings), and, well, it can get pretty ugly. I have to admit to a few etiquette lapses at times, though, so this applies to me as well (and I hope this whole thing doesn't come across as preachy). Fortunately, most people are pretty good about about it if you can (nicely) point out example of their etiquette breaches. Those that are not, well, just lump them in the asshole category and go on.

As Lisa pointed out in one of her comments, a common thing you'll see is the guy with a huge rig who doesn't yield for a person with a small point and shoot. Obviously, the P&S person has just as much right to shoot a subject that the divemaster pointed out as Mr. Big-Ass Rig does. There isn't a whole lot you can do underwater (though this is a time that knowing some good underwater signs is useful... the one that involves pulling one part of the body out of a another part of the body springs to mind here). Once on the surface, you can very gently and politely remind the person that you are a person too, despite the diminutive size of your camera, and next time you'd like a chance to photograph the little seahorse before it goes blind.

As I said, though, it really is a matter of self-awareness and despite your pleas, Mr. Big-Ass is probably not going to change. In fact, any time you dive with a large group of divers, you are pretty much guaranteed to run into people who are going to be problems.

So... how to deal with it......

First, increase your own level of self-awareness. Little things make a difference... like not leaving your crap (excuse me, your very nice, expensive gear) laying around the boat in people's way, or like not leaving your rig in the rinse tank for more than a few minutes so there's no room for others. If there's a subject you want to spend a lot of time with, let every single other person in the group go ahead of you. Learn how to signal - "no, please, after you", and let them shoot away. They'll know that you are waiting, so (generally) won't take a long time. A little politeness grease can go a long way.

Second, swim the other direction. If I am stuck diving with a large group, this is my favorite way of dealing with it. Sure, I'll miss the 27th juvenile drumfish that the divemaster has pointed out, and the DM is likely to be pissed at me for getting "lost"... "again", but I think I am ok with that. Frankly, I don't care much for the following a divemaster around thing anyway. Even if I took the shot, I'd just have the same shot that the other 12 people in the group have anyway. Whenever I can, I try to avoid diving with big groups in the first place - dives with a small group or by myself (gasp) are just more relaxing, for me.

Third, give people the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes this is tough for me, but I've found that when I do, it usually helps. For example, rather than assuming that Rick (not his real name)(yes, it is) got in the way of the shot I had been setting up and waiting patiently for the turtle to swim across the field of view with the lovely pink and soft corals swaying in the current and the bumphead parrotfish school in the just the right spot, rather than assuming the worst, that he purposely got in my way, I chalked it up to a lack of self awareness on his part, and realized that I really couldn't change him. In other words, he isn't an asshole (ok, yes he is), he just doesn't think about other people (ok, so this was a bad example).

Fourth, tell them what they did, especially if they jacked with the reef. If they screw up, tell them, otherwise they will not know (that self-awareness thing again). Keeping in mind that they might not have meant to do whatever they did, explain what happened in as nice of a manner as you can. Sometimes they will react well, and if they do, you get 1 extra bonus karma point. It might not help you, but it might help someone else in the future. If they react badly, well, they get 2 extra a-hole points.

Supernumery

One more week...... heading down to Cabo San Lucas and then out to the Revillagigedos Archipelago (also known as Socorro, though Socorro is actually the name of one particular island in the chain).

Thanks to my friend Tricia, I am going out on the Nautilus Explorer as a "supernumery". Now, I have to admit that I didn't know what a supernumery was until I looked into it. Basically, I will be an extra crew member. Here's how the boat owner/captain described it:

Our pleasure to have Chris join us as a supernumery along the
lines that we discussed ie. he is sort of crew but not really, trust that
he will help out somewhat but also take time to chill and go diving
(although he won't be able to do every dive depending on what's going on)
and most importantly, that he will comport himself as a crewmember
from our guests' perspective.

I'll gladly comport myself as whatever they want me to for a chance to go diving with giant mantas, silvertip sharks, hammerheads, galapagos sharks, dolphins, humpback whales.....

It's raining iguanas....

MIAMI (AFP) - An unexpected cold snap this week sent thermometers plummeting in Florida and heat-hungry iguanas dropping from tree branches like autumn leaves, scientists and witnesses said.

Passersby in Bill Baggs and Crandon parks in Key Biscayne, south of Miami, were seen picking up the seemingly lifeless lizards from the ground beneath trees and setting them in the sun, where after a brief warm-up, most revived and scampered off into the bushes.

The cold-blooded lizard-with-a-mohawk's comfort level begins at 23 degrees Celsius (73 Fahrenheit) and it positively thrives at 35 C (95 F). But on Wednesday and Thursday, the mercury in south Florida dropped to 4-5 C (39-41 F).

"When the temperature falls below about 60 F (15 C) they become less able to move around. At temperatures below about 40 F (5 C) they become completely immobile and begin to suffer serious stress," said University of Florida wildlife expert Perran Ross.

Since all three iguana species shelter in tree branches and crevices, he added, when the temperature falls low enough, they are unable to hold on and drop to the ground... Story on Yahoo