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.