The Lights of Honolulu

We stepped foot on land (not just a dock) yesterday for the first time in close to a month. It was rather a shock to the senses that we were allowed 4 hours of liberty in Honolulu. This was just enough time to be totally overwhelmed by traffic, people, Home Depot and Best Buy. But after our errands were finished, Ben and I had time to run home and see that the place is in better condition than we left it! (Thank you Stephane and Amy!) It was good to see that Seeayte is still happy and healthy as she has been rather lax on making regular phone calls. But what can you expect of a cat? Then after a quick Starbucks and grocery run, I watched from the fantail of the ship as Honolulu quietly slipped off into the distance. The lights of the city were just starting to twinkle and the mountain tops were covered in clouds. I was surprised to find that I was rather relieved to be leaving all of that behind again. I am missing my own home and the chance to go for a hike, but it is a nice feeling to have the quiet simplicity of the ocean for another week.

The Volcano Coast

A few days ago we were diving off the volcano coast of the Big Island of Hawaii. The Puna district, which encompasses most of this area is spectacular with jet black lava rock under verdant green palm trees. The sapphire swells crash against the coastline sending up towering cascades of snow white spray. In the distance, great billows of steam rise where lava as the volcano spills lava into the ocean. This is where the earth is formed and the views and the diving are like nothing else. In towing past Madame Pele, I was reminded of some footage we shot a year or so ago on a different trip to the Big Island. While shot at a different time, it nicely represents some of what we saw the other day. We hope you enjoy.

On one of our final days at Kure Atoll, I tagged along with Jake on an algae collection dive.  Shortly into the dive we ran into two Hawaiian Grouper (Epinephelus quernus) just as curious about us as we were about them.  These inquisitive fish are rare in the Main Hawaiian Islands (they taste good) but are more common in the more remote Northwesterns.  I have always loved grouper, both here an during my previous time in Florida.  On numerous dives they have followed me around for hours, like a long-time pet, looking at what I am looking at, peeking under rocks I turn over and providing company.  I have always wondered what was going on behind those huge, knowing eyes.  This guy was no different.  We sat, eye-to-eye for nearly ten minutes before I had to head off to follow Jake to find more algae.  I turned around nearly half and hour and hundred of yards later, and guess who was still behind me...

The cliffs of INSANITY

We spent today off the south coast of the island of Lanai. The winds have dropped for a few days giving us a welcome rest-bit from the otherwise constant pounding and the scenery has been amazing. Lanai has some of the most spectacular sea cliffs in the archipelago, which we were diving under for most of the day. The water was calm and clear which, for the most part, made up for the cold One would never think diving in Hawaii could be cold, but 78 degrees for an hour is far from warm. All-in-all it was another wonderful day. Jason's acceptance of the apricot challenge was the icing on the cake...

Back to Sea again

It has been a hectic couple of days and I apologize for not posting more often. We arrived back in Honolulu on October 12 for a four day turn-around between cruises. Yes, four days to offload everything from a month-long expedition from one ship ... and load it all again for another month-long expedition on a different ship. Needless to say it was verging on the brink of madness. We managed to get it done, but I can't say it was exactly a ball.

We headed out from Pearl Harbor again on the 16th, this time abroad the NOAA Ship Oscar Elton Sette, the sister ship to the Hi'ialakai. We were bound for Maui and the southern part of the Hawaiian Archipelago known as the Main Eight Hawaiian Islands. These are the largest in the chain, and the only ones with a sizable human population. I will be continuing on as one of the fish biologists and this time also serving as divemaster for the expedition. Shortly after leaving Pearl Harbor I realized that I couldn't find the O2 analyzers which are required so that we can determine the amount of oxygen in our air tanks before diving. This would have been a major show stopper. I was able to make a few phone calls to find out the O2 analyzers had never made it off the Hi'ialakai. I guess that's what happens with such a quick turn-around with no one in charge of the procedure. A colleague was able to rush down to the ship, pick up the analyzers, and rush them across to the other side of Oahu where we sent in a small boat to pick them up.

It was then on to he windward side of Maui, a beautiful but blustery place. On our first morning of operations we awoke to winds blowing at nearly 20 knots (23 mph) and waves nearly 6 feet high. We manage to launch our small boat anyway and get in a full days worth of operations, but it wasn't pretty. We got out butts whopped. The next day we moved east but conditions were even worse with small craft warning all over the area we were tow work. The chief scientists and I decided it was no use getting pounded for a second day, so we moved south to the leeward side of Maui where conditions were much more favorable. It was nice.

Today we are off the southeast coast of the island of Lanai, sitting under sea cliffs several hundred feet high, and are getting ready to head back out on the water. Lanai has some of the highest coral cover we have found in this section of the Hawaiian Archipelago, but does not always have the best visibility. I guess we'll have to see what today brings. Off to breakfast.

Heading to bed

I am off to bed after another hard but wonderful day out on the water. The seas were flat calm and the water was warm and clear. Chief made curried lamb last night and chicken wrapped in pastry dough. It was exquisite. Tomorrow is our last day at French Frigate and then we have two days of transit back to Honolulu. We will leave the Northwest Hawaiian Islands with mixed feelings. They have been spectacular, but have reminded us how much work we have to do. We are in the middle of the ocean, 2500 miles from anywhere, and yet most of the beaches of these remote islands look like a landfill. On Midway alone we saw countless bodies of dead albatross and frigate birds, their decaying carcasses filled with plastic. Cigarette lighters, glow sticks, bottle tops, and other bits and pieces unrecognizable.


We have marked and done our best to retrieve fishing nets, lost or tost by open ocean trawlers, now tangled in the coral. The fish stocks aren't looking much better. On our last mission to these islands in 2006 we recorded 1500 large jacks, this year we have only seen 400. In 2006 we saw 200 sharks, this year ... 41. It is frustrating to be working so hard to make a difference when so much seems against us. When it comes down to the reefs and the economy, do the reefs really stand a chance? If there is "pressure at the pump" will we really hold off drilling in these spectacular areas? It doesn't help that the day-to-day operations seem governed by so much minutia. Were we back to the ship at 4:30 or was it 4:45? Are we using the right computers to enter our data? Would someone have to get paid overtime in order to take that nightime CTD sample? I know these must all be important concerns at some level, but in the face of it all, it makes what we are trying to do so much harder. I am so tired right now. It's not the diving ... it's everything else.

Dolphins at Kure

We are a few days past Kure Atoll right now but our experiences of the last day there are still with us.  After our final dive we were on our way back to the ship when we happened upon a huge pod of spinner dolphins.  We quietly slipped over the side of the boat with mask, snorkel, and fins, hoping they would come by to see what we were all about.  We were not disappointed.  We swam together for about 20 minutes before we decided it was time to head back to the ship to prepare for the next day.  It was a truly magical experience. We are now several hundred miles south at Lisianski island and are looking forward to the final few days of this leg of the expedition. We have one more day here at Lisi, two more at French Frigate Shoals and then two days of transit back to Honolulu. The expedition so far has been amazing. I am sure the days ahead will not disappoint.

Midway Charismatic Megafauna (it's ok Mom)

I thought I would share a dive from Midway that I didn’t have time to write about earlier. It was our first day at Midway and when we dropped in, nothing looked out of the ordinary as we descended on a landscape of flat rock (pavement) with some coral and algae (very exciting), but not many fish to speak of. One of the teams that was working off of our boat had to install instruments that required hammering stakes into the bottom, to hold the equipment in place. This generally attracts sharks and other large fish if they are in the area, but we hadn’t been seeing much of the charismatic megafauna that the northwest is known for, so I didn’t have my camera out. Now, before I continue, I want to explain that fish are often attracted to the hammering out of curiosity, not aggression. After all, if someone sat on your front step, pounding on stakes, you’d be tempted to open the door and see what the racket was about. So we began our work with the hammering in the background and since my survey requires that I record what the algae or coral is every 20cm, I spend most of my time with my face 2-3 feet from the bottom. This means that I don’t see much going on around me, but each time I looked up, everything appeared normal. As I was finishing my work and packing up, I noticed about four sharks approaching from the area that I had just crossed. Surprised, I noticed that Molly, my dive buddy, was still busy working, so I pulled out the camera for a few shots. Then as I watched them pass, I noticed 4-5 more sharks approaching from the opposite direction. Now sharks are sort of like cops in that you are always surprised and a little nervous to look up and see one in the rearview mirror, but unless you're doing something silly, they pretty much leave you alone. It was exciting to see this group of sharks because there haven’t been many sightings on this trip, and that is very unusual. As Molly finished her work and I continued to photograph, the number grew to 10-15 and, as we made our way to the safety stop, we were joined by the rest of the divers from our boat. The safety stop is supposed to be a minimum of 3 minutes at 15 feet (in order to let the nitrogen built up from the dive escape slowly while still under pressure) and we never stay much longer than that. This one was at least 10 minutes long with a group of 40-50 sharks hanging out with us in the middle of a sea of blue. It was amazing to see them approach from a distance and pass by us without much of a glance in our direction. None of them appeared aggressive or overly interested in us, so we weren’t anxious to get out of the water. It seemed more like a party that started out with 4-5 people, but as word spread, grew into something much, much more ... and what an amazing party it was to crash.

On to Midway

The Hi’ialakai is steaming north towards Midway with calm seas and clear skies favoring her and I have just finished with my second shower of the evening; but we’ll get to the reasoning in a minute. The Milky Way is in full splendor and there isn’t a moon in sight, so the stars are spectacular. I can’t think of a more isolated place that I’ve been where literally the only light is coming from the ship, the stars and the bioluminescence of the bow wake. Ben and I were just outside and were tempted to the bow by the glint of luminescent creatures in the breaking waves of the ship. The luminescence is particularly bright tonight with the entire wave crest aglow and larger flashes, probably from small jellyfish, in amongst the bluish-green light. It was amazing to lean over the bow and watch the endless fabric of calm seas divide and light up at the passing of the ship. Our attention then turned to the stars, which seemed to stretch from horizon to horizon with out concern for where the sky meets water. The sheer number of stars was mind-boggling, making this sky looks so different from any other that I’ve seen. We were lying on the deck, marveling at the night and noticed that there was a bird sitting on top of the weather mast, which had been so carefully outfitted with uncomfortable wires, so that just such a bird would not sit there. But this one had evidently preferred the uncomfortable feet to tired wings and was riding there with the ship. I was unconcerned by this because I had strategically chosen my deck space to be a good ten feet away from the mast to avoid an obstructed view. So Ben and I quite happily continued our stargazing and conversation until we were very unfortunately made aware of the trajectory capabilities that birds have at their disposal. Needless to say our evening of stargazing ended rather abruptly and although I have been reminded that being shat upon by a bird is good luck, I am still happy for the shower.

Ulua at Pearl

We are at Pearl and Hermes Atoll and the diving continues to be amazing. The water here is much clearer than at the last two islands and we keep finding a fish called Ulua at most of the dive sites. The picture is from a recent dive. They’re certainly nothing that we’re worried about, but I have been watching out for my snorkel and wearing a hood. If they get persnickety, Ulua have been known to steal snorkels and bite at hair in the past. This morning, while transiting to the dive site, the Ulua were evidently attracted by the jets of the small boat so we were greeted by a school of about 50 on our first dive. They hung around us for the entire dive and even followed the boat for a bit to the second site. If you are looking at the picture wondering whether it is a trick of the camera that the fish appear almost as big as the diver, trust me, it’s not. Some of the big ones are almost as long as a diver.

We have also come far enough north and late enough into the fall that morning dive prep now begins before sunrise. I have been enjoying watching the sunrise as I’m getting gear ready in the mornings.

I hope all is well with you and that you’re having a chance to enjoy the fall a bit.

Sunset at Laysan

We have left a wonderful day of diving at Laysan Island and are bound for Pearl & Hermes atoll.  We are now entering new territory for me as we ended my first trip to the NWHI in 2001 at Maro Reef when our boat flipped and the ship lost one of it's propellors.  So, the excitement is building.  I gather Pearl & Hermes should be incredible.  I can't wait.

Our one day at Laysan Island was great.  The weather continues to hold out and the reef surrounding the island is an up and down mass of boulders, canyons, and fish.  For quite a large portion of our tows, we had several large jacks (big silver fish) trailing along behind us, trying to figure out what was going on.

Green bottom clouds

We left French Frigate Shoals yesterday having had some of the most beautiful weather I have seen in a long time.  Blue skies, calm seas, and puffy white clouds all around.  For those of you who haven't spent much time in the tropics, there is a beautiful phenomenon which can occur around atolls, banks, or anywhere else you have crystal clear water, bright sun, and sand on the seafloor.  The sunlight passing through the water is reflected by the white sand at the bottom of the lagoon back up through the water and casts a bright turquoise green glow on the bottom of the clouds floating over the lagoon.  It is a spectacular sight, giving the whole scene that little extra bit of beauty.

Today was our first day at Maro Reef.  Not one of my favorite places as it is where I was flipped in a small boat 7 years ago. Today was beautiful, however, with flat calm seas yet again.  There is no emergent land here, just fingers of reef stretching up to within a foot of the surface.  We have have been spending our time weaving in and out of these finger but staying out of the maze of spaghetti making up the interior of the reef.  One could easily get lost in there and spend hours trying to find the way out.

French Frigate Lake

It was another amazing day with conditions that defy comprehension.  I have hardly ever seen French Frigate this calm.  Edmund takes a quick dip after his dive.

For lunch we have a lovely bouquet ...
... and a visitor who stayed with us most of the day
... as we were hard at work.

Our first dive

Our first day of tows at French Friagate Shoals was wonderful. The underwater visibility wasn't the best, maybe 35-40 ft but the above-water conditions were unheard of in the NWHI at this time of year. Hardly a breath of wind and water as smooth as glass. Here two of our intrepid divers ready themselves for their first dive.

Ready to dive

Well, we are supposed to be within 2 hours of our first dive site, but there is still no land in site. It is a gorgeous day and the haze has lifted so you can see all the way to the horizon in every direction. It still amazes me to look out over the ocean and see nothing else – no boats, land, birds – just blue as far as the eye can see. It reminds me of a desert that’s hiding something fantastic underneath. I can’t wait to jump in and explore what’s below all that blue.

We have been making good time and will be arriving at French Frigate Shoals two hours ahead of schedule. We should be able to get two dives in today and then the work really begins! Weather permitting, we will be diving 3 times a day until our next transit or until we have been diving 9 days in a row.

I better be off now to finish a few last minute preparations, then its time for lunch, a safety briefing and then we dive!

An early wake-up

Today it hardly feels like the ship is moving. We awoke fairly quickly this morning having forgotten that we were going to start drills at 0800 (8:00am). Somehow I managed to miss that on the plan-of-the-day. The alarm went off at 6:30 and I though ... that doesn't make sense, I must have forgotten to reset the alarm after getting on the ship. Back to dream-land. That was, of course, until Jake came knocking on my door with a "wakey, wakey, wakey!"



Drills have been going well, just going over all of the safety equipment and operations we need to follow in the event of an emergency. How do we get an injuried diver out of teh water? How do we use the O2 system? How do we get them to the sick bay? How do we get them to the re-compression chamber? We go through everything.



Just after drills and lunch it became clear that we were no longer moving ... hmmm. it appears the engineers had noticed something strange and thought there might be something caught in one of the propellors. So we, put a swimmer over the side to check things out. After a brief dip by Gaetano, we got the all clear and are back on our way again. We'll see how things go from here.



We certainly can't complain. So far the food has been excellent and, when we're inside, we can hardly tell that the ship isn't still tied up at the dock. The seas have been flat calm all day, let's hope that continues ...

On our way ...

We were supposed to leave the dock yesterday at about noon. We arrived at the ship to find that one of the small boats was having engine issues and that we would have to delay sailing until at least 4:00 that afternoon. Not a huge big deal, we had plenty to do to get the ship ready for our two months out at sea. At a little before 4 it became clear we would not be sailing that day. Another night at home and I didn't hear anyone complaining. We are all excited about the trip, but another night in one's own bed never hurt anyone.



We awoke this morning to a day much sunnier than yesterday, made our way down to he ship and were ready to set sail. Would it happen ... only time would tell. A few hours later the call was made and the crew started to make ready for sea. The gangway was raised and we were off.



As we steamed out of Pearl Harbor, past Ford Islands and what was once the second tier of Battleship Row, we made our last calls home and started to feel the south swell under our feet. After a few weeks of often harried preparations, we are on our way. Our first stop will be French Frigate Shoals on Sunday afternoon. We have much to do before we arrive, but we are all looking forward to getting back in the water again.