That's right - lightening struck my office building yesterday so we had Wednesday morning off. Naturally I rented a tank and scouted the night dive, solo!
It was awful "windy" down there this morning, because of lotsa serge of course visibility was limited. With all the sea fans and other plant-like critters waving back and forth it was like being in the high desert on a windy autumn day. All the fish were hunkered down, doing their best to stay put and out of trouble. After about 30 minutes still on the first reef I had had enough and turned to head back.
But just to my left I caught a flashing - it turned out to be one of two reef squid who seemed to be doing no better weathering the serge than all the other critters. One was about 18" long and the other - blinkie - less than a foot. I grabbed hold of something that looked dead yet solid enough and settled in to observe.
The squid seemed to be playing, or mating. Blinkie would flash and the larger one would move closer. Then they'd zip around one another for a few seconds and then go back to their places, one to either side of a sea fan.
Their colors changed according to what I imaged might be their mood - before "playing" blinkie would start flashing a yellow/orange light. When they settled down they became a mottled brown on top with irredescent blue dots and "creme" on the bottom. Occasionally a trigger would approach - triggers love squid - and they'd turn striped brown.
I spent at least 30 minutes with them, sometimes just inches from my mask as the serge pushed and pulled us.
Then a huge carpet of seaweed engulfed Rover, my dive flag (the blow up kind), and I lost them when I surfaced to rescue it.
So, Marvel and I did the night dive - I had expected to abort it due to the serge, but it turned out to be fairly calm and clear. By the time we finished gabbing with a neighbor it was nearly dark and we saw a number of interesting night-fish as soon as we dropped down. A trumpet/coronet and two nurse sharks, and of course a bijillion puffers.
One thing I have to do is stop ditching my camera at the first sign that visibility might not be 80'. In that single site I've had so many critter encounters that I'm beginning to worry it's all been my imagination. A pic or two would be nice.
Well, it was a successful day and one that just drove the old addage home all the way - "The worst day diving is better than the best day at work."
