April 28th, 2010

Expect the unexpected — these are the words I use to describe diving in Palm Beach, Florida. This hidden ocean oasis with its vast number of reefs, wrecks, and a world class muck site is a haven for all kinds of marine life both small and large. As a local dive guide I visit many of the same dive sites frequently, but still they lack any degree of monotony in my eyes. Something new is always waiting around the next coral head.

Heading three miles south from the Lake Worth inlet, in sixty feet of water is one of the most popular reefs in Palm Beach — Breaker?s reef. This reef lies a mile offshore of the famous Breaker?s hotel. An inshore ledge runs north and south with small fingers every couple of feet veering west and east. The top of the reef sits in forty-five feet of water.

Breaker?s reef is adorned with soft corals, hard corals, and sponges in every color of the rainbow. Add to this a very healthy mix of fish life. But it doesn?t stop there, in fact, rarely can you dive Breaker?s reef that you will not come across a sea turtle. If it?s sea turtle nesting season you?re likely to think you?re at a Jimmy Buffett tailgate party for turtles.

Rare encounters are something of a regularity on this reef. On days where I?m stuck doing office duties there is no worse torture than having to listen to all the dive boat radio chatter as it echos throughout the office walls. Elasmobranchs of all kind such as great hammerheads and spinner sharks, with their dazzling aerial display, are often encountered. Even the more common nurse sharks show up in unimaginable numbers every season in order to mate.

Of all the amazing and rare encounter it was perhaps a humpback whale inshore of Breaker?s reef in 40 feet of water that held the title for the unexpected. But Breaker?s reef was to up the ante once again.

Before beginning my guided dive I drew up a profile of the reef along with some cartoon fish characters on a white board. Drawing these briefings allow the divers not only to get a visual of the dive site, but also to make them believe I have a couple of remote controlled critters running around Breaker?s reef. ?You will find a nurse shark and a stingray on the last finger of the reef,? I tell the divers. I get a look of disbelief every time, but some things on Breaker?s I can almost predict with certainty. I?m not sure why they do it, but the nurse shark and stingray are almost always there.

The captain navigated half a nautical mile south past the end of Breaker?s reef so my group of divers could enjoy a north-pushing drift dive across this coral oasis. Tropical fish of all shapes and colors enveloped the reef. Forty-five minutes into the dive only two divers remained with me. It was at that time when we reached the jump point to Turtle Mound — a large patch coral just a couple minutes swim from the end of Breaker?s reef. Aptly named, Turtle Mound is named because of the large number of sea turtles that congregate in this area; using the shelf-like ledge as a kind of underwater bunk bed.

As we began our lazy swim across the sand to Turtle Mound, I noticed a dark figure resting in the sand. This area is always full of surprises such as sea turtles, large stingrays, and sharks of all kind. I wasted little time to navigate closer to see what Turtle Mound had in store for me today. With visibility ranging in the 40 - 50 foot range, discerning the dark shadow in the sand was difficult and my mind made the assumption that it was a large southern stingray. Closer and closer I approached with both divers closely behind.

When it?s shape finally registered in my mind my head swirled with emotions. I was excited beyond belief. I was simultaneously nervous — more so for the pressures of knowing that this very rare opportunity was not likely to happen to me again and I had one chance to get a photo. While my danger meter was pegged on redline I felt pretty assure of this close encounter because I had previous experience with this animal in other areas.

The two divers following me had noticed the dark shadow looming thirty feet before me. No longer did they follow me so closely. I composed myself and slowly crawled forward in hopes of not spooking this amazing animal. I took a quick, distant snapshot to proof to others of what I had encounter should I not be able to get another shot — whether from spooking it away or for becoming the recipient of the Darwin award.

Unfrazzled by me, this beastly creature did not twitch a muscle. It sat perfectly still in a trance with its eyes shut. I was beside myself as I approached within hand?s reach of it. I was ecstatic to think that right at this moment I was checking off another experience on my bucket list. If I smiled any bigger I would have certainly flooded my mask.

I continued to take photos of it; adjusting my strobes, but with a weary eye always on this seven foot creature. With my Tokina 10-17mm fisheye lens attached to the camera I needed to get in really close for a dramatic shot. Less than one foot was ideal, but for safety?s sake I lingered around one to two feet.

From the back of my camera?s LCD screen with every flash of the strobe the image for my bucket list glowed in all its splendor — a salt water crocodile! I was happy as can be while my heart raced faster than a Formula One race car.

One of my divers, John Karuza, cautiously swam around to have his photo taken with the crocodile; keeping a safe twenty foot distance between him and the crocodile. The second diver, having no interest in being nominated for the Darwin Award, stayed back fumbling to reach for his dive knife.

After taking a couple more pictures, I lowered the camera down for a few seconds to admire this amazing creature when the lightbulb in my head suddenly illuminated. ?Hmmm.. Its jaw seems a little wide for a salt water crocodile,? I thought to myself. I began to count the teeth beginning from the front of its mouth. ?One...Two...Three... Four?? The four tooth is not right!?, I told myself. The fourth tooth on the salt water crocodiles of Florida comes from the bottom up.

This man is an imposture — a fresh water alligator! ?An alligator?!?!?, I puzzled through my mind. How could this be? The closest inlet, if he was swimming with the northerly current, was ten miles south of here. He?s down in sixty feet of water!

The vision of my friends laughing in full glory filled my mind. ?These jokers have played the ultimate hoax on me,? I told myself. Somehow they found a realistic-looking taxidermy alligator and placed it on the reef where they knew I would find it, I thought. I laughed a bit and decided to play along. My fear replaced with humor as I approached closer to photograph it.

Suddenly it?s eyes opened! A protective membrane in semi-translucent, iridescent purple covered the cat-like eye that was locked on my every movement. Its front claw-filled leg swaying its step ever so slowly towards me.

Dr. Frankenstein?s scream reverberated in my head, ?He?s alive!? There was no time to answer the many questions running through my head — it was time for action! In a split second I hit the switches on my Nauticam underwater housing and the Canon 7D was rolling video. ?No one is going to believe this!?, I told myself.

The alligator swayed back and forth. It?s eyes still locked on me. Every piece of video footage I?ve ever seen on the Discovery channel of gators lunging at their victims played in my head like a TV out of control. My arms, outstretched to lengths that would make Stretch Armstrong proud, held the shaking camera at its very end.

With one final movement, the alligator turned away from me and with a few sways of its powerful tail it rocketed to the surface, disappearing into the hazy distance. What he left behind were three very lucky divers — lucky to have the experience of a lifetime.

In hindsight, all those moments of fear were conjured up by nothing more than my overactive imagination and way too many over dramatized Discovery channel TV shows. Showing these animals out of context, only while feeding on their natural prey, I feel does them, and the many other maligned-labeled creatures, a great injustice. This experience and my many forays into the swamps of Florida to photograph alligators has drawn a different picture in my mind. Not one of an indiscriminate and voracious monster, but an admirability for a creature who has survived the tests of time.

Was this alligator taking the first steps towards a new evolutionary transformation? Who knows? Perhaps one day alligators will roam the oceans of the world, but I couldn?t help but be concerned for the well being of this alligator I had encountered. Alligators are not equipped to handle long exposures to salt water. While they do have the same salt glands of their close cousin, the salt water crocodile, these glands are not operational on the alligator; they have no way to excrete excess salt. If the alligator spends too much time in the ocean it will eventually die.

With the alligator no where in sight we radioed for some assistance from the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commision (FWC). We were hopeful they would be able to capture the alligator and return it to its natural environment. We aimlessly searched with no success. I worried for the well being of this poor, lost creature.

The story and images of this rare underwater encounter captured the attention of many news stations. A few days after the encounter I received a couple of emails from a biologist, James Clyde Nifong, who mentioned the alligator had been captured and released back into its natural habitat. I hoped so much it was the same alligator I had encountered. A few days later an email was sent to me by the two brave men, Jason Intoppa and Harry Holstein of West Palm Beach, who captured and held the gator until the FWC arrived at the scene. Pictures of the gator confirmed it was the same one I had encountered; identified by a distinctive dark marking on the bottom left jaw of the alligator.

Expect the unexpected is a term that is replayed again and again in the amazing waters of Palm Beach, Florida. In this case, not only was the alligator encounter in sixty feet of water on the reef a very unexpected event, but to hear of its safe return back to its natural habitat one I never expected to hear.

January 23rd, 2010

"If you can handle the tougher conditions, nothing beats winter diving in Florida." This statement made today by my good friend and dive buddy, Celeste, makes a great point. Year after year, those who are willing to brave the rougher seas and cold weather are rewarded with some of the most spectacular underwater animal encounters -- especially those of the larger kind.

There is the possibility of encountering sea creatures such as the endangered and rare kemp's ridley sea turtle and the north atlantic right whale. Sadly, an estimated 300 north atlantic right whales remain in the world. For many, the greatest attractions are of the toothy-kind: the sharks! Sharks of all shapes and sizes make the waters off Palm Beach their winter homes.

Reports of whale sharks are not all too uncommon. Spinner sharks can be seen leaping out of the water near the shore. We even encounter great hammerhead and bull sharks, too. The ones that attract the most attention are the several hundred lemon sharks that congregate not too far from our wrecks. According to Samuel "Doc" Gruber, a marine biologist working at the Bimini Biological Field Station, female lemon sharks, who have been tagged as far as the Bahamas, aggregate in Palm Beach, Florida to release pheromones to attract male lemon sharks.

With the hopes and excitement of a winter dive, a group of friends and I set off to do some diving. The ocean was moderately calm as we exited the Lake Worth inlet, but we knew this break in the weather would not hold for long. We made our way north to the Esso Bonaire, Miss Jenny, and the M/V Zion Train wrecks to dive with a south current with approximately forty feet of visibility.

Our descent onto these wrecks seemed quite common with schools of grunts huddling around the wreck and a stray goliath grouper keeping its distance from the noisy divers, but that was where the regularity of this dive ended and the next 40 minutes of excitement began. Large pompano jacks swam around us. A large loggerhead turtle walked across the sandy bottom from one wreck to another. A very large lemon shark cruised across our path at the edge of visibility. A large eagle ray glided alongside me, heading directly into the direction of my dive buddy, Mike Walker. Screaming Mike's muffled name through my regulator got his attention so he could turn around and get some photographs of the majestic eagle ray.

Celeste frantically motioned us to follow her. Swimming off into the sand, above a school of at least two hundred atlantic spadefish, the image slowly materialize itself in the hazy distance. Shark fin after shark fin appeared. Attached to them were some hulking female lemon sharks, most of them measuring in at over 6 feet. By the time we were able to get close enough with our underwater cameras to get a decent photograph we were in the midst of these sharks for an up close and personal encounter. These lemon sharks, who weren't too keen on our interruption, began to circle in frenzy. I spun in place with my eye glued to the viewfinder waiting for the perfect photograph. Flash, flash, flash! Our cameras fired as the circling sharks kicked up sand in their hysterics. All the while you could hear laughter exhaling from our regulators. We ended our first dive shortly thereafter.

While on our surface interval, Woody, fine gentleman and crew member of Walker's Dive Charter, entered the water for a dive. Upon his return, he arose from the dive ladder appearing to have been mauled by a gang of crustaceans, for numerous lobsters were holstered under every strap on his BC. His catch bag had gone amiss and he used every means possible to bring back dinner. His amusement to others divers on the boat did not stop there for a few minutes later he 'remembered' he had seen a very rare sight underwater -- a sunfish (mola mola).

It was decided we would do a second dive on the same wrecks. The hopes of seeing the lemon sharks was high on our list. Upon our descent we noticed that the water temperature and visibility dropped considerably. The hazy turquoise water made it difficult to discern any marine life further than thirty feet.

Celeste had wandered out of sight for a minute and upon her return she signaled to me that she had just encountered a ten foot great hammerhead shark. Cruising along the sand where we had last seen the lemon sharks, none of the sharks appeared. Instead, the large ominous shadows of two to three hundred pound goliath groupers materialized before us. Like puppy dogs they approached the divers who spent the rest of their dives amused by the grouper's friendliness.

The ocean, like the seasons, are in a constant state of flux. Day to day, hour to hour, things change underwater. Even after ascending from my last dive my mind quickly reenergizes with the possibilities of the next dive. Who knows what mother ocean will have in store for me next?!?!