I was lead to this wreck site and our relationship began. Born of infatuation when she and I were both much younger we have both matured in the passing years Seeing her frequently when we first met I grew to appreciate her temperament. Safe and small. Surrounded by currents strong and flowing. Her hull a shelter. I learned her secrets and felt her temptation.
Donning my gear, I roll off the boat. As usual there is a steady current running. It is always strongest at the top. I begin traversing the 250 feet of line and chain by tugging myself along and kicking hard, I pull up at the anchor, which has dug itself into the sandy bottom. I duck out of the current behind the wreck and pause to bring my breathing rate down and peer out into the eerie blue light. There's my buddy pulling up behind me.
The local enforcers are patrolling at the city limits on the edge of visibility. The amberjacks {Seriola dumerilli} are behaving strangely,keeping their distance from our dive group. These fish, weighing as much as 150# usually have nothing to fear as they swim atop this shipwreck's local food chain. They are shunned as a target by spear fishermen because Amberjacks have a reputation for parasitic-ridden flesh. For this reason they have grown rather brazen around SCUBA divers. Amberjacks seem to sense when a diver is unsure. I warned my buddy prior to the dive that he might expect behavior I characterized as "being under suspicion". An amberjack could approach us and declare local sovereignty with a direct and confronting stare, meant to spook us into leaving. Upon ignoring such challenges in the past, I found myself being tailed throughout the dive site, even to the point of being followed up the ascent line. That behavior indicates that this particular niche is without much room at the top. A bit like that old western challenge "This town ain't big enough for the both of us". A bit unnerving at first, but no cause for alarm. And actually quite humorous to watch when it not you singled out for all the attention. On this day the amberjacks were especially wary of us newcomers. Then I spotted the reason why, a white tip shark {Triaenodon obesus} had secreted itself beneath the hull of the wreck. It is fairly common to find a shark there on a temporary basis. Sharks like this white tip might stay in a particular location for a week or months before moving on again. The amberjacks could easily wait out our current reign as king of the neighborhood, which was going to be a very quick 20 minutes They would return to the wreck after we ascended, perhaps feeling a certain safety in numbers against this lone shark.
Are you plankton or are you eggs? A rest stop for some, the wreck represents a permanent home to many sponges, corals, and crustaceans that drifted here. There are many slipper lobsters {Parribacus antarcticus} camouflaged on the hull. These lobsters arrive in larval form and find refuge within the reef growing on the wreck. Numerous generations of fish thrive here too, enjoying this little backwater while the almost
The larvae of the cauliflower coral {Pocillopora Meandrina} sprouts up on this uncharted territory quickly, growing to the size of basketballs in only 5 years. A rapid growth is enjoyed here while their kin on a developed reef compete for space and nutrients with already established species. Cauliflower coral excels at being a primary reef builder. It is generally the first to colonize new lava flows and preferring sediment free water it is not surprising to find it here, taking advantage of the open area on the wreck. Slow growing corals that are normally pushed out by the faster growing reef building species take hold in shadows on the wreck. The hard corals of the order Antipatharia, commonly known as black coral {antipathes} and wire coral {cirrhipathes} latch onto space inside the wreck, while the order Octocorallia is represented by the soft snowflake coral {Telesto riisei} found under the hull. Many marine creatures mature and remain within a specific locale their entire life. The same fish, lobster or eel will remain upon a particular dive site in a preferred spot and over a period of years The forward hatch on this wreck is like a time-share condo. And is a gathering place for local denizens. Peering up into the forecastle with my dive light I quickly find the yellowmargin moray {gymnothorax flavimarginatus} that inhabits this particular niche of the boat. On some days he shares this cramped living space with a spiny lobster {Panularis marginatus}. But today he is alone and in no mood for company. Eels are nocturnal predators and daytime is often reserved for rest and digestion after the nights hunt. The eel quickly turns away from the light and tucks back further into the hole. Pulling my head out of the hatch I glance at a brilliant red sponge as my dive light flashes over it. The red I saw a moment ago now disappears into a muddy brown as I turn my dive light off because the clear blue water filters out the red light from the sunshine above. Though this species of deep water sponge is common on the wreck I've rarely seen it elsewhere. I venture to the tip of the hull. The streamline shape of the wreck causes the current to eddy and swirl at its edges. Sometimes debris gathers here. Heavier shell pieces, and decaying leaves from stream runoff also occasionally settles out. This natural gathering place attracts octopus. These creatures collect broken shell, large pebbles and rocks to line their den entrances. The den is usually a dark recess or hole in the reef and the wreck offers an excellent substitute. There are pieces of broken pottery and glass in the area that make highly prized treasures. And there is also a wealth of den sites to choose from among the many spaces within and beneath the wreck, too many for me to search today. A few yards away from the wreck an elkhorn coral {pocillopora eydouxi} shelters an amazing variety of species within its branches. I scan the area for my favorite local resident, the Leaf Scorpion fish. {Taenianotus triacanthus} These fish employ their shape to hide in plain view, posing as a dead leaf that has become trapped within the coral. Because it is a member of the poisonous scorpion fish family {Scorpaenidea} I cautiously coax the leaf fish into the palm of my hand for a closer look. It rests there, maintaining its pose. Lately I had been observing a gradual change in the coloring of this fish and on this day the fish appeared particularly pocked and mottled. Suddenly a most amazing thing happens. The fish briefly shakes in a very rapid convulsive way and then swims out of it's skin, emerging in an off white color! The old skin is quickly carried away in the current. Like some other camouflage cousins of his this fish sloughs off his skin. I place it close to the coral and watch it flutter out of my palm. Turning, to look back at the wreck, I notice the myriad of grazers moving over the hull. Urchins and starfish roam the surface while they feed on coral polyps and algae, freeing spaces up for further colonization by new arrivals. Their fecal pellets rich in nutrients, drop around the wreck. The sandy bottom captures this windfall for the crabs, sea cucumbers, and other bottom dwelling scavengers that stick close to the hull. Looking around the periphery of the wreck I find a large helmet shell {Cassis cornuta} and upend it momentarily to observe its smooth nacre. While these mollusks tend to have heavily encrusted shells externally their interior is a brilliant peachy color. The mollusk keeps it polished by extending it's mantle throughout this area. Reacting to my touch it withdraws behind it's operculum, the horny plate that protects the opening to the shell. Suddenly schooling goatfish {Mulloides vanicolensis} that have harbored around the shipwreck dive instinctively for cover! Early morning is a feeding time for roving predators such as the bigeye trevally {Caranx sexfasciatus}. These fish will hunt in a cooperative way similar to a wolf pack. Several will work over an octopus or eel that was unwary enough to expose itself, or a smaller fish that fails to heed the warnings of the school. This morning, however, they find nothing at this breakfast stop. Our down time is up. I prepare to leave by grasping our ascent line. With little effort I'm carried along with the flow, up towards the surface. Stopping for safety at 15' for 3 minutes I hold the anchor line tightly and face into the current. Strong flow sweeps around me and my body hangs like a flag on the line. A glint reflects from the cosmopolitan city laying below the sea. This hull has come through a transition as a lifeless desert to a prolific haven sheltering life's arrival upon its wreckage. That is a lot to aspire to.
If you care to dive with the author He can be reached at info@scubadivemaui.com