If you’re contemplating a dive adventure later this year, there are still a couple of spaces open for my trip to Ambon.
The trip, which I’m running jointly with Wetpixel and Eric Cheng, is scheduled for 7 to 16 November. We’ll be staying at the new Maluku Divers resort, situated right on the best muck sites in Ambon.
There are lots of Coleman shrimp on fire urchins in Ambon!
If you’re a fan of muck diving and observing amazing critter life in shallow water at close quarters without any other divers around(!), Ambon is worth considering.
Ambon hit the news recently because of the unusual new frogfish discovered there, but from personal experience, I can say that there’s a lot more to see than just the frogfish (sightings of which are unpredictable).
Tiny cuttlefish hunting in shallow water
With so few divers around + relatively easy diving conditions, it’s not difficult to spend quality time with animals that are considered rare or difficult-to-approach elsewhere.
In short…the conditions are ideal for observing and documenting marine life behaviour.
Our plan is to do a lot of night diving, which means that the chances of seeing predation, mating and other fun stuff increases significantly. Up to this point, it has been difficult to do extensive night diving in Ambon, because there was no dive resort near the muck sites!
It’s been a while since I’ve updated my Upcoming Trips page, largely because I’ve been travelling so much that it’s been difficult for me to hammer out logistical details and communicate with relevant counter-parties.
The year-end quiet period has given me some time to (just barely) catch up, so here’s a long overdue update of some of my trips for the near future, set out in chronological order. (I’m doing my best to keep my Upcoming Trips page updated, so bookmark that page if you want to check back later for more trips.)
The Night Safari Lembeh (27 Feb-6 Mar): I’ll be heading to Kasawari Lembeh Resort again soon, this time for the primary purpose of checking out the night life. As far as I know, this Night Safari trip is the first-ever organised effort to focus on diving at night in the Lembeh Strait. It’ll be fascinating(!) to see what happens late at night, when most (sane) people are asleep.
In addition to David and Sanah from Scubacam, Aey and Mean from FiNS will be on this trip…and Eric Cheng will be joining as well a few days into the trip. If you’re looking for advice about photography or how to prepare your images for print, you’d be hard-pressed to find a better-informed or nicer group of people.
There are still a few spots left for this trip, so click here to drop David and Sanah an email to sign up! More details here.
Humpback Whale Acoustic Research in Tonga (29 Jul – 7 Aug): In addition to the trips I have scheduled to swim with humpback whales in August this year, I’ve been working with a marine acoustics researcher friend of mine to try to set up a long-term study of humpback whale acoustics.
By way of background, my friend Dr. John Potter is a brilliant acoustics researcher who has studied underwater acoustics and marine mammals for over 20 years, pioneering techniques and a new understanding of how marine mammals use sound and how they’re affected by man-made sound in the ocean. John is a frequent consultant to sonar companies, navies, governments and NGOs concerned about the acoustic impact on the marine environment. Basically…he knows his stuff. In fact, he was the marine acoustics expert featured in the movie The Cove.
I first met John when he was the head of the Acoustic Research Laboratory at the National University of Singapore, which he started back in 1996. Among the interesting things he shared with me was an amazing video that he and other PhD friends put together showing the source, directionality and strength of humpback singer song in Hawaiian waters…a short sample of which is below:
Though it may not be immediately obvious, this is ground-breaking stuff. By using rebreathers, video cameras, audio recorders and distance measuring devices, John and the other researchers were able to construct this real-time representation of where a humpback’s sound comes from, how strong it is (in decibels) at various distances, and also the directionality of sound.
Cool, eh? (Actually, even more cool is the fact that John et al were the ones in the water on rebreathers gathering data first-hand!)
After several years of brainstorming and planning, we’re ready to try undertaking a new project in Tonga. We won’t be using rebreathers, but we will be pursuing new insights into the characteristics and behaviour of humpback whale singers.
The basic idea is to use a cross-disciplinary approach of combining data in the form of photos, video, high-frequency (i.e., whale-safe) ranging systems, and custom-designed hydrophone arrays to measure singer size, record their songs and other social sounds, and try to discern whether there are any meaningful correlations between songs and whales.
Our intention is to consider basic but as-yet unanswered questions such as whether bigger whales sing louder than smaller ones, whether some whales have deeper voices than others, what role if any age plays in song structure and singing behaviour, etc.
In other words, John and I would like to combine my knowledge of the whales in Tonga with his acoustics expertise to achieve something meaningful.
In order to undertake this project without having to beg for funds, we’re asking for help from people who’d like to take part in this research effort by joining us for a few days on the water, aboard John’s 52ft (on deck) yacht Jocara, which is now based in Tonga (yes, he relocated his boat to Tonga in 2007 in part as preparation for this), managed and operated by our mutual friend Christy.
We’re hoping to kick off this effort with two back-to-back trips in 2010:
Trip 1: 29 Jul – 2 Aug (4 nights aboard Jocara)
Trip 2: 3 Aug – 7 Aug (4 nights aboard Jocara)
To cover operating costs, we’re looking for four people on each of the trips, with cost/ person at US$1250. This includes everything while on the boat, as well as discussions that John will lead about marine mammal acoustics, and marine mammal photography advice/ discussions about humpbacks in Tonga from me (excludes accommodation, meals, etc. off the boat, and air travel).
While this isn’t going to be as intensive a photography-oriented trip as the others I have planned, we will get into the water at every opportunity, and we will be taking photos and recording video.
If you’re interested in learning more about humpback whales and helping out with cutting-edge acoustics study of whale song, please contact me via my contact form.
To be honest, this is a departure from the type of trip I usually do, but it’s something that I believe will be worthwhile over the long-run in expanding our knowledge about these graceful marine mammals.
As with the humpback whale calf-count that I started a couple of years ago, John and I will make every effort to share via the internet any insights we gather, and we look forward to feedback and contributions from all interested parties.
Sperm Whales, Ogasawara (early-mid October): Following on the incredible success of last year’s inaugural trip to Ogasawara, I’m planning another visit to Ogasawara in October this year.
Among the highlights of last year’s trip, we photographed and video-ed a group of female sperm whales eating a giant squid and possibly teaching the calf in the group how to hunt for squid (which means this year…we’ll have to photograph a giant squid engaged in a life-or-death struggle with a sperm whale!)
While in Ogasawara, I also realised that it’s possible to ID sperm whales by markings on their lower ventral areas, and I subsequently compiled a summary of nine individual whales that we encountered. I’m hoping to build on this ID catalog over time, working with the local whale watching authorities to see if we can document repeat visits to the area by these enigmatic cetaceans.
The exact trip dates depend on the ferry schedule between Tokyo and Ogasawara. Last year, the ferry schedule was only announced in July, and the trip was from 8 to 19 October (though I had a good idea of the probable schedule a few weeks prior to the official announcement).
Also, the exact cost depends upon the class of berth aboard the ferry, the number of people on the trip, and the number of days we’re out on the water…so participation in this trip requires a measure of flexibility. A reasonable estimate is Yen 600,000-700,000/ person for 8-9 days on the water.
Yes, I realise that’s not terribly specific…but that’s the nature of the situation, and it’s totally worth the effort and pain-in-the-rear factor when you’re face-to-face with sperm whales. Just ask any of the people who were with me this year!
If you’re interested in going to Ogasawara in early- to mid-October to look for sperm whales, please contact me via my contact form.
The Night Safari Ambon (7-16 Nov): Yes, yes…I’m obsessed with night life this year. After helping to plan the Night Safari Lembeh trip, I realised that the conditions in Ambon are ideal for a Night Safari type of excursion as well.
First, Maluku Divers have just recently opened their new resort, which is located right atop the best muck dive sites in Ambon. This means access to dive sites is easy…and night diving is possible/ practical in the area for the first time in many years.
Second, the new resort was designed and built by my good friend Yos, who coincidentally designed and built Kasawari-Lembeh Resort as well. Yos is a diver himself, and he has really good taste, so I have no doubt that the accommodations and facilities at the new resort in Ambon will be as nice and photographer-friendly as at Kasawari-Lembeh Resort.
And finally, the critter life in Ambon harbour is simply amazing! Need I say more?
I’m arranging The Night Safari Ambon in conjunction with Eric Cheng and Wetpixel, so there will no doubt be lots of experienced underwater photographers on the trip with lots of stories and advice to share. If you’re interested in joining this adventure, please refer to the trip summary below:
Dates/ Diving Schedule: Arrive 7 November 2010, depart on 16 November.
The planned diving schedule comprising 21 dives is:
7 November: Arrive/ set up cameras
8 -9 November: Normal day-diving schedule
10 November: Transition schedule: 14:30; 17:30; 20:30
11-13 November: Night schedule: 17:30; 20:30; 23:30
14 November: Transition schedule: 14:30; 17:30; 20:30
15 November: Off-gas/ Optional land tour (separate cost)
16 November: Depart
Diving Style: Ambon has a combination of reef and muck diving. For this trip, we will be concentrating on muck/ critter diving, and we will devote much of the trip to diving in the evening and night. Although the resort is situated at the best critter sites, we will dive from boats. The dive sites are located inside Ambon bay, and most of the time, we will be diving in relatively shallow water.
Because we will be diving a lot at night, you will need to bring adequate lighting. A minimum of two torches (three would be better) plus lots of batteries would be a good idea.
Also, while the muck sites are sheltered and shallow, there can be strong current at times. Our night dives will be concentrated during the period between new moon and first quarter moon, so in theory, the current will not be strong.
However, you never know with Mother Nature, so we’ll need to be flexible and adapt to prevailing conditions.
Finally, the dive sites we will be diving are where the newly described Maluku frogfish (Histiophryne psychedelica) has been found. We will, of course, hope to see this elusive fish, but to date, only a handful of these animals have been spotted, so please manage your expectations accordingly.
Accommodation: Twin-share rooms at the newly completed Maluku Divers dive resort, which is located at the prime muck dive sites at Laha. All rooms have hot water and aircon, as well as two editing desks with charging stations for batteries. The resort is equipped with back-up generators, so we’ll be insulated from power outages on the island. There is no Nitrox available at this time.
Meals are Indonesian fare, primarily comprising fresh fish and seasonal vegetables. If you have any special dietary requirements, please inform us well in advance so the resort can try to accommodate. Please bear in mind that Ambon is a remote location and some things are not always readily available.
Getting There: There are regular flights to Ambon from Bali, Manado and Jakarta on Lion Air and Batavia Air. While it is possible to make reservations yourself, it’s best to let the resort handle domestic flight reservations, coordinated through Dan Baldocchi. Domestic itineraries and prices generally firm up within three months of the date concerned, so expect that final itineraries will become clear around mid-August.
Power Supply: Power in Indonesia is 230V/ 50Hz. There are charging stations in the cabins and in the dedicated camera room. Plug shape is recessed two-prong, Type F on this page: http://users.telenet.be/worldstandards/electricity.htm
An article I wrote in Japanese about diving in Ambon just came out.
Not many people have travelled to Ambon since the social unrest there in the late 1990s. I’ve been there twice now, and I’ll definitely be going back. The critter/ muck diving is fantastic, and there are no crowds.
If you happen to read Japanese, or just want to look at the photos, the PDF file is about 3.5MB.
Sorting through images for an article, I came across this photo from my recent trip to Ambon. I think it’s a really small crustacean of some sort…perhaps a mantis shrimp?
The little critter is perched atop a bit of Halimeda algae, so it’s easy to get a sense of scale (really small!).
I can make out its eye, what looks like a pair of really long legs sticking out to the left, and what appear to be retracted claws (which is what makes me lean toward mantis shrimp as an ID).
Any crustacean experts out there happen to know what this is?
Nuance (/nyooonss/): noun a subtle difference in or shade of meaning, expression, colour, etc. (via AskOxford.com)
…and perhaps one of the least discussed, under-rated concepts in underwater photography.
As I’ve alluded to previously, everyone taking underwater photographs these days, whether for fun or for work, faces an interesting conundrum. The arrival of digital technology means that an increasing number of people are taking photos underwater, which naturally results in a growing number of photographs.
Moreover, the arrival of photo-sharing sites and such on the internet means that a good proportion of those photos are uploaded every day, and an ever-growing proportion of dedicated divers around the world see those photos.
On the one hand, this democratisation of underwater photography is absolutely fantastic; and yet, on the other, it gives rise to a dilemma…how do you make your photographs stand out from the flood of digital images created every day?
Of course, this isn’t a new issue, but the sheer number of great images being created and uploaded each day from all around the world means that the need to understand and respond to such changes has become increasingly acute.
In this context, nuance is an invaluable concept. More specifically…taking photographs of the same things as everyone else, perhaps even the same exact subject…but doing it with just a sprinkle of originality…enough to make your images look different from the hundreds or even thousands of images of the same subject.
To illustrate, this is an image of a pair of Coleman shrimp (Periclimenes colemani) on a fire urchin at the Laha II dive site in Ambon:
It’s not a bad picture (setting aside for a moment the fact that the big one has a visually distracting deformity), but then again, if you do a quick Google seach on the term “coleman shrimp”, you’ll get several hundred thousand results. Not all will have images, but many will…and many will have images that are similar to, if not nearly identical to, this one.
If you visit Ambon and dive Laha II, you’ll find Coleman shrimp on every dive, unless you’re completely blind or totally out of luck. They’re all over the place. Faced with this situation, many people, after taking an obligatory number of snapshots, never give the shrimp another look.
But actually, Laha II is one of the best places for applying nuance to these colourful crustaceans…simply because there are so many of them in relatively easy diving conditions.
The following photo, for instance, isn’t radically different from the one above, but it’s just different enough to perhaps stand out if there were a bunch of Coleman shrimp photos lined up side-by-side.
Why?
Besides having prettier, non-deformed shrimp, as the photographic subject, there’s a subtle change in mood, deriving from a shallower depth of field than people normally apply to this subject, along with a subtle difference in light.
The light hits the shrimp in the foreground, making it stand out from the relatively darker background, but then falls off rapidly, leaving the shrimp in the background slightly underexposed. There’s enough light so you know there’s a second shrimp there, but not enough to feel the need to see every detail.
A slight change in angle works in this instance too, by complementing the nuance in depth of field and lighting, i.e., they work well together.
This is perhaps the smallest frogfish that I’ve ever come across, or at least that I’ve ever noticed.
While I was in Ambon, my dive guide Toby showed me this little fish, which was sitting among the peach-fuzz-like stuff covering a small rock while doing its best impression of…peach fuzz on a rock.
“Mini me” was about the size of a grain of rice, perhaps a little bit bigger.
It was perfectly camouflaged, and the light levels were low with a ripping current. I have no idea what species this frogfish is. I just know I had to squint a lot to see it.
Update 08 June: Margaret Thompson sent me the image below of a tiny orange frogfish she photographed in Lembeh. Unlike me, she was smart and had a pointer next to the fish for scale. Cute, no?
One of my favourite perspectives for fish portraits is head-on, full-face.
If you find yourself with a cooperative (i.e., stationary) subject and want to try a face-on shot, it may help to keep a few things in mind.
First, make sure you pay attention to symmetry. One way to do this is to keep your eyes on the fish’s eyes. Ideally, the fish should be looking at you, not away or to the side…and both eyes should be equidistant from the center of the frame. Lining up the dorsal fin/ long axis of the fish along the center of the frame often helps.
Once you’ve lined everything up, double check framing. Just like when you’re crossing the street…look left, then look right, then look left again. Make sure the position of the fish is balanced in the frame, and keep an eye out for extraneous visual distractions. Usually, you’ll want to keep the composition as simple and clutter-free as possible, but there are exceptions of course.
For instance, this scorpionfish in Ambon just happened to be sitting among a pretty patch of tunicates and other stuff, which although visually chaotic, ended up making for a nice pattern around the fish.
I don’t generally think of scorpionfish as cute, but this one nearly qualifies.
Another thing you’ll want to consider is lighting (yes, I’m babbling on about lighting again).
The photo below is of a particularly grotesque scorpionfish. It was large, ugly and mean-looking. More importantly, it was puke-patterned…meaning “having a hue and texture reminiscent of stale vomit”. The rocks around it weren’t any prettier, so all-in-all, it was a fairly hopeless scenario…photographically at least.
Being a sucker for lost causes, I sat with my aesthetically challenged acquaintance for a while, contemplating what, if anything, to do. After several minutes, I decided to try to emphasise the fish’s inherent charms and go for a spooky, haunted-house kind of effect.
The lighting here is one light from below, one light from above at reduced power and at a sharp angle. The effect is to frame only the fish with light. Hitting the scene with more light would’ve brought out the ugly rocks around the fish…something I didn’t want to do.
Incidentally, I took this photo during the day…not at night. Closing the aperture down to f14 at ISO100 and using a shutter speed of 1/200 was sufficient to darken the scene down so that I had complete control over all the light in the image.
The fish’s puffed-up look was a bit of luck. It’s a threat gesture, probably intended to make itself look bigger and badder than it already did…the fish’s way of telling me: “I don’t like having my picture taken.”
I’m sure the fish would’ve felt differently if it could’ve seen how flattering the result turned out.
The week has been totally chaotic…running around Bangkok, meeting friends, attending meetings…and making time for truly important stuff like (lots of) mango with sticky rice.
Things are finally settling down a bit, so I’m going to pick up again with some images from Ambon, starting with a few nudibranchs to illustrate the concept of lighting nuance.
First, take a look at this photo:
It’s an unusual nudibranch (Flabellina bilas), at least for me, since it’s the first time I’ve ever seen one of these. I like this image because the nudibranch is doing something…crawling from one lump of stuff to another, and also because it has funky paddle-like appendages.
The lighting for this picture is pretty standard though: two strobes…one left, one right…nothing terribly innovative. I chose this configuration because it’s safe (i.e., I knew I could nail the shot) and also because I thought the nudibranch was a sufficiently interesting subject without trying for anything particularly creative.
Look what happens, however, when I use hard, directional lighting:
This is a nudibranch (Ceratosoma sinuatum) I’ve seen before (actually, on my first visit to Ambon), so I felt like I should play around a bit and try to do something more than hit it with normal lighting.
If you take a closer look, you’ll see that there’s relatively more light coming from front left than any other direction, thus creating shadows…and also, that the light comes in at a low angle…creating hard, distinct lines.
Think of late afternoon sunlight, and you’ll get the idea.
The reason I did this (besides just for the sake of having fun) was the background. There’s yellow-orange on the nudibranch, and there’s a similar colour in the background. Shadows and strongly defined lines help to separate the nudibranch from the background…complementing the three-quarter, face-on perspective.
Next is an example of nearly the complete opposite…soft, diffuse lighting:
Why go soft and squishy here? Well…the background was incredibly cluttered, but perhaps more importantly, this is a really ho-hum normal nudibranch (Chromodoris sp.). There are probably a billion (give or take) photos of this and other similar nudibranchs taken with normal lighting. In other words, taking yet another normal photo would pose no challenge and add no value.
Hence soft focus + soft lighting…which gives the photo an ethereal, dreamy quality that makes even this no-so-special nudibranch look nice.
Finally, here’s a nudibranch (Thecacera picta) portrait taken with pinpoint lighting, a technique I’ve been working on for some time now:
The lighting emphasis is almost entirely on the face (specifically the mouth area) of the nudibranch…because this one is feeding. It’s eating the bryozoan or whatever it’s perched upon.
Thecacera nudis aren’t too rare in Indonesia, so applying unique lighting creates a different feel for a relatively common subject. I don’t recall ever seeing a Thecacera portrayed in this manner, so of course, there’s a measure of personal satisfaction involved too.
The message in all this rambling? The quality, as well as the quantity, of light you use significantly affects the way your subjects, and hence your photos, appear.
Too often, divers seem to devote disproportionate time and effort to seeking out animals that are deemed rare or unusual. I guess it’s just part of human nature.
Most people will want to see something if they believe it’s rare. In contrast, things that are considered ordinary…well…yawn.
How many times have you heard “I want to see that little brown fish that lives just by the jetty in the hundreds.” as opposed to “Oh, oh! You have to show me the purple Rhinopias. You have to. You have to!!!”?
In fact, I came across a study about a similar concept recently…in relation to endangered species. The notion, as explored by the researchers, was that by merely assigning a label of “rare”, “endangered”, or something similar to a particular type of organism, the chances of it becoming extinct increased significantly.
Why? The more rare something is perceived to be, the more people want to see (and hence disturb) it…and in many cases, the more people there will be who want to poach whatever it is as soon as possible (so that they can cash-in on a dwindling, and hence appreciating, product before it’s too late).
Screwed up, right? But it makes sense in a depressing, “Wake Up Humanity!!!” kind of way.
To get back to the point…what I’m trying to get at is that when you’re diving, it’s often worth taking time to observe the ordinary. Look at what everyone else is not looking at. Ignore the frenzied pursuit of whatever critter happens to be “hot”.
There are “plenty of fish in the sea”, to somewhat mis-use the expression, and often, you can get really nice photos of fish and other animals that few other people pay attention to.
Instead of waiting in line for your five minutes with the fish that everyone else wants to photograph, consider spending a quality 45 minutes with something that no one else even takes notice of.
Think of it this way: Probably > 99.999% of humanity has never seen the things we divers are fortunate enough to see. So a plain little fish…no matter how “normal”…is probably going to be interesting, perhaps even exciting, for most non-divers. It should be for us (spoiled) divers too.
And if you’re a photographer, chew on this: 45 minutes of quality time with no one bothering you vs. five minutes of rush-rush-rush with six other divers waiting their turn. Hands down…I know which odds I prefer.
Cherish the mundane, and it’s amazing how exciting and fulfilling every dive can be.
On that note…I’m off to Bangkok for the Thailand Travel & Dive Expo. I’ll continue posting Ambon photos as and when I can, though I suspect the days will be too packed to do much posting for a while.
(Incidentally, can anyone tell me what the middle and bottom fish are?)
As the saying goes…the secret to being a good photographer is never to show the stuff that you don’t want other people to see.
But actually, sometimes it’s worth doing so to illustrate a point.
Take this image of a weedy scorpionfish (Rhinopias frondosa) for instance.
It’s not necessarily a bad picture. It’s properly exposed and such…but it’s cluttered, which is perfectly natural, because that’s the way these fish make a living…by being so gaudy that they blend into their surroundings. Makes it easier to snag snacks fish that aren’t paying attention.
If I were out to get ID photos, this image would be A-OK. But since taking ID photos isn’t really my thing, I wasn’t happy with this picture.
Continuing with the theme of selective lighting, here’s what I was able to do when I got a second chance with another Rhinopias about a week later.
This is a different individual (I think), but the circumstances and terrain were similar…gaudy fish in visually chaotic terrain.
With a week between the two encounters to cogitate upon what I could have done differently the first time, I knew exactly what I wanted when we found this fish…hard directional lighting from an extreme angle to bring out just the fish, and a soft fill from the opposite angle to give a hint of the background terrain without lighting it up enough to distract from the main subject.
Incidentally, if you haven’t seen one of these fish before, they seem to like Ambon. I saw four or five on my first trip, and four on my recent visit…without even looking for any. Colour variations I’ve seen in Ambon include white, cream, lavender, purple, and yellow.
Keep repeating this until it’s stuck in your head like a bad sitcom theme. Sing it to a catchy tune if you have to, but whatever the case…remember this.
Controlling light, playing with light, fiddling with light, manipulating light…that’s pretty much 99% of photography, once you get past the fundamentals of how to use your gear.
For instance, you’ve probably seen a bajillion images of transparent shrimp on anemones. They’re really pretty, and I must confess to having taken my fair share of normal photos of these little gems. But again…to be unique…here’s something different I tried with one such shrimp in Ambon:
I like this image. You may or may not. But you have to agree that it’s different from the usual manner in which these little crustaceans are portrayed.
So how’d I do it?
It was mid-day, about 15m down, with this two-centimetre-long shrimp sitting on a rock next to its host anemone…otherwise a pretty nondescript scene that everyone else swam right by.
Careful placement of a strobe slightly above and behind as the hard primary light + a soft fill at about three stops under from the front left = emphasis on the transparent body and intricate fuzz on the rock.
I’d like to say that I nailed this right away, but it took a dozen tries or so, primarily because shrimp like these don’t sit still. This one moved continuously, which meant the lighting changed continuously, which meant I grumbled muffled expletives continuously.
Note the pile of eggs in its belly. Yup, this one’s a proud mommy shrimp.
And here’s another shrimp everyone else swooped past…this one photographed with a single strobe to the extreme right. Had I used the normal one-strobe-to-the-right-one-to-the-left-and-blast-away approach, this image would’ve been really cluttered, as the background was filled with rocks, reef, coral…stuff.
The effect is more subtle in this image than in the top picture, but the common theme is that selective lighting makes the shot.
Selective lighting isn’t easy, but it can often make the difference between a humdrum picture and one that stands apart from the crowd.
On the way up from a dive, I came across this little fish (which I believe is some sort of cardinalfish) in about five metres of water. Actually, I wouldn’t have noticed it at all…but for the big, bright orange ball of eggs.
Talk about a mouthful!
It was just past the new moon, so the eggs probably matured and swam away over the following week or so…much to the relief of the father fish no doubt (male cardinalfish like the one pictured here brood the eggs).