This is Dan of kozyndan, getting in my way, on purpose, at Carl’s Ultimate dive site in the Eastern Fields of Papua New Guinea:

Dan doing what he does best: annoy me.
(animation courtesy of Eric)

And just to give you an idea of what I have to put up with on trips…this is what Dan and Eric did to me with the aid of an iPhone (using the Face Fighter app) and a Go Pro camera:

With “friends” like this, I prefer enemies.

This is Nana. In her natural state. Aboard MV Golden Dawn, on my recent trip to the Eastern Fields:

Our instructor for today…Nana

Following is Nana’s simple 3-Step Guide on how to set up your underwater camera housing.

Step 1: Do a bunch of stuff.

Hold O-ring in dainty manner while polishing shiny area

Express disapproval of rectangular thing colour

Comment on cleverness of built-in mirror

Marvel at David‘s vacuum pump thingy

Try to look through the housing instead of the viewfinder

When all else fails…consult Colin

Step 2: Wait patiently for Colin to set up his housing, then get him to fix everything.

Nana frustrated that Colin is taking so long…

…reverting to her natural state

Step 3: Wake up. Play with Bunny while Colin toils.

It’s bunny time

Show off bunny’s bear behind

Bonus Tip for Advanced Learners: Repeat daily to ensure proper camera housing maintenance.

This is Colin, looking forward to working on Nana’s housing…again

I’m back in Port Moresby. Everyone has left the boat, so it’s quiet time for a day. I have yet to pack, which means I’m looking for ways to procrastinate.

Got up early this morning. Not sure why, given the lack of immediate pressure to get anything done. I’ve had three cups of coffee so far, sorted out a handful of logistical issues, and scarfed down more cookies than I probably should have.

Outside, the winds are howling…running a continuous 30 to 35 knots, exceeding that every now and then, while pelting rain adds a bit of excitement from time to time. A nearby boat apparently sank last night. The few trees that line the harbour’s edge, short ones with sparse foliage, are doubled over, appearing as if they’ve been sucker-punched by Mother Nature.

We were forced back to the coast earlier than scheduled, which is unfortunate, but all-in-all, the past few weeks of diving in the Eastern Fields of Papua New Guinea has been awesome. The water was clear; marine life plentiful; and until the winds and swells picked up a few days ago, the weather ideal.

This being my fifth trip to the Eastern Fields (spanning about 16 weeks since 2004), you’d think I might have grown tired of diving the area. Not a chance.

Large school of bigeye jacks (Caranx sexfasciatus)

The Eastern Fields is a submerged atoll comprising around 150 square nautical miles. That’s really big. Actually…really, really big. It means the extinct volcano that spawned the atoll was enormous, almost beyond comprehension.

The reefs are about as close to perfect as you can get, given the realities of modern-day pressures like shipping traffic, commercial fishing (especially shark finning!), and marine pollution. This remote atoll and associated reefs have some of the best dive sites in the world, including one site that is the most action-packed reef dive I’ve ever experienced. And despite the fact that Captain Craig has been visiting the area every year since 1992, there are still many parts of the Eastern Fields he’s never dived. In fact, we explored and named four new sites over the past few weeks.

In short, the Eastern Fields is a magical place, which is why I keep going back, and will continue to do so as long as I’m able.

This is a pristine reef top: a profusion of coral in two metres of water.

Diving Carl’s Ultimate
As Craig tells the story, the first time he took my friend and mentor Carl Roessler to this reef, Carl was so amazed that he asked Craig to name the site after him.

The first time I went in, I understood why.

The site is small. Small enough to swim around in 10 to 15 minutes if there’s no current working against you. Small enough to swim over in much less time.

What the site lacks in size, however, it makes up for in action.

The best way to describe what Carl’s is like, is perhaps to allude to the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Just like the perfect porridge in that tale, Carl’s Ultimate is the perfect reef.

It’s located in the perfect spot with the perfect shape, size and orientation, so that currents are neither too strong, nor too weak, and hit at precisely the right angles during both incoming and outgoing tides to make it a happy place to be for fish and other marine life.

When the currents are running at Carl’s, there are, as many have put it: “More fish than water,” ranging from tiny ones like damsels and basslets to impressive dogtooth tunas, trevallies, barracudas, groupers, reef sharks and even a large hammerhead on this trip.

Thousands of fusilier damsels and magenta slender Anthias
swarming over staghorn coral at Carl’s Ultimate dive site

On normal charters, Craig only spends a day or so at this site, as most people want to travel around and dive multiple locations across the atoll. While I certainly understand why visitors want to see a broad sampling of what the Eastern Fields has to offer, I’d be perfectly content to sit at Carl’s for an extended period of time, doing two, maybe three, long dives a day timed to coincide with peak currents, and hence peak action.

In fact, that’s exactly what we did on the second of the two recent itineraries. After leaving port, we went straight to Carl’s and stayed for four days. The tides were exceptionally long and strong, meaning peak fish time was jaw-dropping crazy.

When Craig and I planned the dates for this itinerary at the end of 2009, we consulted forward schedules for moon phases and tidal flow, picking dates specifically for this reason. Who knew the two of us could actually get something right?

Carl’s Ultimate dive site: Hard corals, soft corals, sea fans, sponges, swarming fish
…even an inquisitive squirrelfish (Sargocentron spiniferum)

The action at this site is so dramatic that I can’t recall ever having taken a macro lens down before, but I did this time. Craig performed his excited-little-girl-who-ate-too-many-sugar-cookies impersonation and said he wanted to show me a “really pretty” fish. Sceptical though I was, I had no choice but to humour him; it’s the only way to settle Craig down.

He showed me a colony of Pseudanthias lori, which were down relatively deep (33m or so), swimming upside down, at an odd angle, in erratic fashion, at high speed over a wide area, beneath a ledge that obscured nearly all available light. In other words…perfect conditions for photography (not).

With the aid of a rebreather, I was able to stay down for an extended period to get a few images, which only made Craig more giggly when I showed him. I should’ve known better.

This is one of several male Pseudanthias lori individuals in the colony:

Beautiful Pseudanthias lori basslet at 33m, Carl’s Ultimate dive site

Same fish, different angle, just as spectacular

To give credit where credit is due, Craig certainly has an eye for cute, colour-coordinated fish (with a particular penchant for pink).

Exploration and Discovery
As I mentioned above, we dived, explored and named four new dive sites during the trip: Xanadu, Soi 16, Jellybean Corners, and Silk Road.

Xanadu is a small passage Craig had never noticed before. The outer wall is gorgeous, with corals covering the entire reef, and lots of fish swarming about. The passage from the outside to the interior of the atoll was healthy as well, with troops of multi-hued parrotfish milling about, pooping streams of newly manufactured white sand here and there. During our second visit to this magical place, several co-adventurers came across mating white tip reef sharks. I named the site Xanadu in recognition of its unspoiled condition, and in keeping with Craig’s Asia-themed nomenclature for the sites in this area.

Strawberry-red soft coral at Xanadu dive site

Soi 16 is a submerged barrier reef near Emmmo. The terrain comprises a series of bunkers or “hills”, for lack of a better term, interlaced with channels and cut-out areas. The hills are covered(!) with corals, both hard and soft, and there are tonnes of fish swarming above…fusiliers, jacks, surgeonfish (the largest school I think I’ve ever seen), trevallies, etc. There was so much fish traffic in the area that diving the site reminded me of standing on a street corner in Bangkok. It was the 16th of January, so we called it Soi 16.

Soft coral and fish at Soi 16 dive site

Jellybean Corners is also at an opening in the atoll, where the outside walls rounds off into two nice corners at opposite sides of the passage opening. When I first dropped in, a gang of adorable baby grey reef sharks paddled in say hello, at least ten of them, perhaps as many as 20.

Though there wasn’t much current when we went there, I’m pretty certain the site gets hit with significant water flow, as there is a profusion of large, multicoloured soft corals on both corners. The brilliant yellows, reds, oranges and pinks of the plush soft corals reminded me of jellybean flavours, hence the name we assigned the site.

Colourful soft corals like this abound at Jellybean Corners

Finally, we dived and named another small passage in the same general area as Xanadu. Once again, it’s a passage Craig has probably passed many times, but hadn’t noticed. (It would perhaps be appropriate to insert a snide remark about Craig’s power of observation here, but I guess I shouldn’t do that to him, should I?)

Near this passage, the wall folds in and out in an S-curve pattern, covered wall-to-wall with a profusion of corals, mostly hard structures, but also some fans and soft corals closer to the actual passage opening. I gave this site the name Silk Road, in reference to the meandering pattern of the reef, and to go along with nearby site names Mantchuria, Great Wall of China, and Xanadu.

Soft coral at Silk Road dive site

It’s amazing to think that after 20 years of diving in the Eastern Fields, Craig is still finding new sites. The possibility of being the first person to explore a section of the reef is an incredible feeling, something I hope to experience again in the future.

Silly Sallie Story
A trip aboard MV Golden Dawn wouldn’t be complete without a silly story of course, preferably at the expense of my good friend Captain Craig. You would think that after all these years, Craig would’ve learned to be on guard when I’m around. To some extent, he has, but his (futile) efforts to foil my schemes just make it more fun to pull pranks on him.

Sallie’s whale shark encounter is a perfect example.

On the second day of the first itinerary, Sallie had a close encounter with a whale shark at a site called Point P. She was alone, in crystal-clear water. The whale shark practically came up and planted a big wet kiss on her cheek.

Naturally, she was delighted, and showed several of us photos and video when we got back to the boat.

The proverbial light bulb went off almost instantly, and I got everyone to agree not to tell Craig about the whale shark…until dinner.

Sallie’s whale shark, with barracudas in the background for bonus points

At meal time, Sallie sat next to Craig, showing Craig pictures on her camera, innocently(?) asking him to help her figure out what she had seen during the day (i.e., Sallie batting eyelashes at Craig in feigned damsel-in-distress manner).

She started with a genuine puzzle, the shadow of what appeared to be a hammerhead shark in the deep. She moved on to several other fish; then showed him a series of whale shark photos, starting with one taken at a distance, gradually getting closer and closer.

If you’ve read my posts about Craig over the years, it should perhaps come as no surprise that he fell hook, line, and sinker for the “Help me, Obi-wan; you’re my only hope” performance that Sallie put on. (The fact that she’s a lawyer and devious by nature certainly didn’t hurt.) She played the part to perfection, luring Craig directly into an immaculately choreographed trap.

Seated across from Craig and Sallie, I got up and started to video Craig’s reaction when Sallie showed him the whale shark photos. Greg recorded Craig’s reaction from another angle.

Demonstrating the mental acuity for which he and Elmer Fudd are renowned, Craig immediately became suspicious. He was perhaps already inclined to doubt Sallie’s whale shark sighting, but seeing me stand up to video his reaction prompted Craig to undertake critical analysis of the situation at hand:

“Hmmm, Sallie is showing me whale shark photos; but I didn’t see a whale shark; and Tony and Greg are video-ing me,” he thought.

“This can’t be good.” (pause for brain to process).

“Wait a second.” (pause while pained expression crosses his face).

“Tony obviously wants to see me react to Sallie’s photos. He must be setting me up.” (pause for Eureka!-moment expression).

“Aha! Tony probably gave her photos from somewhere else to put on her camera, which means there was no whale shark.” (pause for brain to rest and recover from prolonged exertion).

“Well, I’ll show him who’s smarter!” (pause for look of smug determination to appear on his face).

And so it was that Craig opened his mouth (as planned) and stuck his foot in it (once again, as planned), while I recorded the moment for all to savour:

What Craig didn’t count on, of course, is that I set him up to anticipate the set up, thereby resulting in his being set up even though he deduced that a set up was in progress and concluded (in error) that he had foreseen and hence averted said set up. Nice set up, no?

In all fairness, I couldn’t have pulled this one off without Sallie’s deft manipulation of Craig’s ego, which just goes to show you that sharks are definitely not the most dangerous animals in the sea.

Links to Sallie’s video of the whale shark: Video 1; Video 2

Equipment Note
I started using a KISS rebreather back in 2004 with Craig, during my initial visit to the Eastern Fields. The rebreather units themselves haven’t changed much since then, but there have been some notable improvements in peripherals, two of which I think worth highlighting.

First is the Shearwater Predator dive computer. I don’t usually get excited by dive computers, but this one is perfect for diving with KISS rebreathers.

Shearwater Predator dive computer (before hooking up to O2 sensors)

The Shearwater computer can integrate directly to the O2 sensors on KISS units, thus eliminating the need for bulky, clunky O2 gauges we used previously. Moreover, the computer’s colour-coded OLED readout is dead-simple to understand:

Green = all good.
Red = problem.
Yellow = maybe problem.
Orange = slightly more of a maybe problem.

The display automatically adjusts brightness based on ambient light, and the interface is intuitive. The only minor issue I’ve experienced is that it’s difficult to take the battery out, as the compartment is snug, and there’s no tab or tool that makes it easy to yank the power source out when it needs replacing. Not a huge problem, but seems like one the manufacturer could address easily.

Bottom line though…I can’t imagine diving a KISS unit without the Shearwater Predator now.

Me using the Shearwater computer. The bubbles are from a leak. Doh.

Second is the Nautilus Lifeline. When you’re on a rebreather, you don’t give off many bubbles. Plus, if you’re like me, there’s a tendency to stay down longer than divers using scuba tanks (mild understatement), so it’s tough for spotters on the surface to keep track of you.

This is a particularly relevant issue on Golden Dawn trips, since Craig’s itineraries tend to be to remote areas, many in open ocean with the potential for strong, unpredictable currents.

Safety sausages are the usual precaution against getting lost, but they can be cumbersome to carry and unwieldy to deploy/ put away. In some cases (especially with relatively compact safety sausages), they can be easy to miss in bright light or bad weather.

Nautilus lifeline

The Nautilus Lifeline incorporates GPS capability and a VHF radio, so you can (a) communicate with your dive boat (or any other nearby vessel with a radio for that matter) if you surface and no one is around, (b) tell them your exact GPS location, and (c) broadcast an emergency distress signal if you find yourself in a real bind.

Like the Shearwater, the Nautilus employs colour-coding:

Nautilus lifeline: Green to chat;
Orange to hail on Ch. 16; Red to broadcast GPS position.

It’s an electronic gadget, so you have to keep it charged, and having one doesn’t preclude carrying a safety sausage as well, but the Nautilus Lifeline seems like an ideal fit for rebreather divers. It’s probably a good idea for normal scuba diving as well.

If you’re contemplating a trip on Golden Dawn and plan to dive with a rebreather, Craig has a couple of Shearwater computers and Nautilus units aboard for rental.

Jenny (foreground) and Frederick (background) trained on rebreathers this trip

The Alchemy Challenge
Meet Megamouth, a drab, nondescript sponge I came across at a dive site called Tokyo Express:

Megamouth: Steadfast solitary sentinel of the sea

It was so dull that I’m almost certain no one else gave it a second glance during the dive. Among colourful sea fans, resplendent soft corals and glittering tropical fish, it was a lump. A lone, unappreciated lump with no lump-friends nearby, and no polychromatic costume to induce the adulation of camera-toting divers.

Paradoxically, the sponge’s intrinsic lack of charisma attracted me to it. I found myself drawn to the pigment-challenged poriferan, unable to resist staring, feeling something akin to compassion for the aesthetically uninspiring organism before me.

I stared and stared, first from one side, then the other; from above, then below; and finally, after perhaps five minutes or so, I decided to photograph it. A while later, I ended up with one of my favourite images from the trip, depicting the lackluster sponge in the best possible light (please forgive the pun).

Emphasising the sponge’s characteristic “mouth” and its position on a ledge with nothing else around, I used the curvature of the reef and just a tinge of deep blue to impart the somber mood of a tireless, solitary sentinel standing watch over Poseidon’s realm.

In hindsight, I probably should have taken a normal photo at normal exposure of the same area and subject, to give you a better appreciation of how utterly uninteresting the sponge looked, but I wasn’t thinking about writing this text at the time.

Anyway, here’s a photo challenge for you: The next time you’re on a dive trip, see if you can create an inspiring, visually pleasing image of a ho-hum subject, something most people would pass by without a second thought.

It’s not easy, and it can certainly be frustrating trying to turn lead into gold, so to speak, but it can also be exceptionally rewarding when you succeed.

Transforming the mundane into something inspiring…photographic alchemy, so to speak…will hone your photography skills, and more importantly, your imagination and creativity.

Manta, Manta
For some reason, PNG and manta rays don’t mix for me. I’ve been to the manta cleaning station at Gona Balubalu in Milne Bay three times, where, despite assurances that “Mantas are virtually guaranteed,” I’ve never seen one there. All I’ve ever done is sit at the rock and twiddle my thumbs. I have, in fact, become quite adept at it.

In the Eastern Fields, the site that vexes me is Mantchuria, where there are inevitably multiple mantas “last week” and “the charter after you”, but never when I’m there. Sigh.

Well, as of the first itinerary of this trip, I’ve finally broken the string of manta ray no-shows. I saw one manta.

The only manta I’ve ever seen in PNG

Other people on the trip saw more (figures, doesn’t it?), but I’m resigned to my fate, so it’s not a big deal.

The main reason I bring up the topic of mantas is that we had a repeat encounter with one. On 14 January, several of our divers photographed a relatively friendly female at Mantchuria; four days later, we bumped into her again at Carl’s Ultimate.

The two sites aren’t an enormous distance apart, but still…it’s cool that several people on the trip had the presence of mind to make the connection between the two sightings.

The ray in question was recognisable from a missing chunk of her body and unique marks on her belly as well.

I, of course, didn’t see her on either occasion, but Adam in particular was lucky enough to have the manta approach while we were at Carl’s Ultimate, go underneath and flip belly-up to him, then swim along for an extended period. Adam was all grins when he surfaced. Quite understandable given his unforgettable interspecies interlude.

Wrap-Up
There were, of course, many more notable experiences and adventures during the trip. It’s impossible to write about everything that happened; the best I can hope to do is convey a sense of how much fun we had (a lot!), and how terrific the company was on both trips.

My home for the past month: MV Golden Dawn

I’m grateful as ever to the brave and foolhardy people who volunteered to be trapped on a boat with me for an extended period of time: Franck and Beck, Thomas, Adam, Sallie, Frederick and Gina, Jenny, Dan and Kozy, Colin and Nana, Sue, Bart and LeAnne; with special commendation to Jim and Greg, who each deserve a medal for surviving two back-to-back trips(!) with me; and last but certainly not least, my good friend Eric, who has been busy working a real job and was unfortunately feeling a bit under the weather during much of the trip.

In addition, I am indebted to a number of parties for their help and cooperation to make this trip a success: Captain Craig, master and commander of MV Golden Dawn; my friends at Wetpixel; Dan Baldocchi (thanks for coordinating the logistics!); Zillion; Aquaforum; PNG Japan; and Air Niugini.

Craig and I are plotting more adventures soon (he’s such a glutton for punishment), including the possibility of a very special rebreather-only trip to explore the twilight zone of the Eastern Fields (deeper waters, from 40m on down); an exploratory cruise to check out the southern reefs of the Louisiade archipelago, areas of which we believe few (if any) people have ever dived; as well as more exploratory trips.

If you’d like to get an early heads-up for one-of-a-kind adventures like these, please sign up for my trip newsletter.

Thanks for reading!

PS: If you’re planning a trip to PNG and are flying with Air Niugini, take note of the company’s baggage policy for divers: Air Niugini offers the following baggage allowance for scuba divers; International flights – 20kgs (44lbs) plus an additional 15kgs (33lbs) per person. Domestic flights – 16kgs (35lbs) plus an additional 15kgs (33lbs) per person. Air Niugini honours the International allowance for International passengers in direct transit on same day to a domestic port in PNG.

PS for the gang on the 2nd trip: It’s called an airboat or fanboat.

Sea fans and soft coral at Northern Passage

March of the Damselfish, Carl’s Ultimate dive site

Soft coral with curtain of bigeye trevallies in background

Small school (more like a classroom) of barracudas

More soft coral at Jellybean Corners

A new group of friends is aboard MV Golden Dawn with me now, so it’s time to head to sea once more to visit unspoiled coral reefs and say hello to friendly marine life like this:

Large school of bigeye jacks (Caranx sexfasciatus) in Papua New Guinea

Will be back in a couple of weeks.

After nearly two weeks at sea in the Eastern Fields of Papua New Guinea, we’re back in port for a short interval to re-provision, drop off passengers and pick up a new group of adventurers.

So far, the trip has been amazing. Pristine coral reefs + great visibility underwater + lots of marine life + awesome group of travellers = very happy Tony.

The weather has treated us kindly as well, and the seas have been flat calm for the most part, with the ocean surface appearing on some days like the finest of handmade silk.

This photo of my friend Jenny swimming above the reef at a site called Passport Point conveys how idyllic the conditions have been:

The seas were as smooth as silk for most of the trip.

More updates and photos to come after I get back from the second part of the trip.

It’s a brand new year, and time for me to head to one of my favourite dive destinations…the Eastern Fields of Papua New Guinea. It’s been slightly over two years since I was there last, so I’m anxious to get back and see how things are.

As of this morning, I have news from Captain Craig of MV Golden Dawn that the conditions are fantastic. Keeping my fingers crossed that it’ll stay that way.

One of the highlights of my previous visit was when we stumbled upon a plump, pink frogfish at a dive site called Shaw Thing.

This discovery caused Craig to clap his hands in the water, skip around, and squeal like a gaggle of giggly girls high on helium.

This pretty pink piscine caused Craig to squeal with delight

Not that there’s anything wrong with said hypothetical congregation of snickering schoolgirls of course. It’s just that Craig so wants everyone to take him seriously and accord him the respect otherwise due to the captain of a marine-going vessel.

To this end, he invests considerable effort in trying to look steadfast and stalwart:

Craig trying (in vain) to look captainly

…but just can’t quite seem to pull it off (the dopey expression being an obvious contributing factor).

So back on the boat, pursuant to the Frogfish Incident, I felt obliged to advise him, as a caring friend, that tittering about in the water doesn’t help his cause.

We’ll see if he’s learned his lesson.

For everyone joining the upcoming trips…safe travels and see you soon!

Putting together Top 10 lists is a popular thing for websites to do at the end of the year.

I generally avoid trends, but I like this one, because the process of stepping back and getting perspective on what you’ve experienced and achieved over the preceding 12 months is an excellent way to set goals for the upcoming year.

It’s also a nice opportunity to recap and share some highlights of the year…to recall the good times, as well as the challenges.

I’ve just skimmed through my blog posts from 2011, and picked out ten of my favourite photos, listed in chronological order.

The first is this image of Ron Leidich and Terry Ward in the entrance of one of the hidden lakes in Palau’s Rock Islands:

Ron and Terry in a tunnel leading to a hidden lake in Palau’s Rock Islands

I like this picture because it encapsulates everything about the unique and educational experience I had in February of exploring Palau by kayak. Getting into and out of concealed lakes was often a logistical challenge, to say nothing of the difficulty involved in documenting the experience with photos.

To capture this image, I had to swim several times between our mother boat and the island in order to haul my gear up and over sharp rocks and hydroids into the narrow opening, then get Ron and Terry into position and set up the lighting before ambient light levels fell and the incoming tide trapped us.

We were on a tight schedule and only had one try, with a window of 20, no more than 30, minutes, so I was elated (shocked almost!) when the shot actually worked.

The second photo I picked from the trip is a more traditional underwater image of a coral reef in shallow water.

Thriving coral reef in an area that was devastated by
El Niño in 1998 and crown of thorns thereafter

It’s not technique, lighting, composition, etc. that makes this photo stand out for me. It’s the fact that this reef is living testimony to the tremendous self-healing and recovery capability of Mother Nature. It’s a symbol of hope…a reef system that defied all the doom-and-gloom, end-of-days pronouncements by experts in the wake of the massive El Niño in 1998. It’s cause for optimism.

Next up are two photos of Australian sea lions (Neophoca cinerea), the first of a friendly young sea lion coming in to give my camera a neighborly nuzzle and kiss:

Young Australian sea lion coming in for a kiss

…and the second of two sea lions play-fighting:

Two male sea lions having a friendly discussion

I love interacting with pinnipeds, and these two photos taken together show the extremes of their behaviour. If you’re a dog-lover like me, you’ll have no problem imagining what it’s like to swim with these precocious animals. It’s like being surrounded by hyperactive labrador retrievers…except that you’re in the water, and they can swim (a lot!) better than you.

A shadow hung over my time with the sea lions this year, as the earthquake+tsunami+nuclear reactor meltdowns in Japan took place just as I arrived in Western Australia, but the fact that I was with great friends (including three terrific kids who had an absolute blast with the sea lions) helped to balance things out.

I’m planning a return visit in March 2013, so let me know if you’re interested.

Pretty soon after playing with the sea lions, I took an exploratory trip to Sri Lanka, where I had some amazing luck. Among the highlights was an encounter with a manta ray that head-butted me twice:

Rear view of a manta ray feeding at the ocean surface

I like this angle, because it’s different from most manta images. It took a lot of swimming and a number of attempts to get the manta’s tail lined up just right, when the tips of both of the animal’s wings were out of the water.

The back story of this head-butting manta is interesting, and worth a read if you like enigmas. Naturally, there was some debate about whether the manta really made a sound or not before colliding with me.

I’m 100% certain of what I heard, and there was another person in the water with me who heard/ saw the exact same things. Capt. Craig of Golden Dawn also reported a similar sound from a manta in PNG; I’ve appended a note to my original blog post with Craig’s comments. Have a read, and please let me know if you come across mantas (or other rays) making odd sounds.

Also during that trip, I managed to swim through the biggest cloud of sperm whale poo I’ve come across so far. You gotta admit, it’s impressive!

This is the biggest dump I’ve ever seen from a sperm whale.

You might think it odd that I’d pick such a photo for my ten favourites of the year, but c’mon, no one can resist gawking at that enormous effluent emission.

As if batoid head-butts and odontocete defecation weren’t amazing enough, I had the mind-blowing experience of having two blue whales swim toward me, slow down to make eye contact, wish me a good day, then merrily carry on with their official whale business:

Blue whales(!) swimming in blue water

In case there was any doubt, I can confirm that blue whales are…big!

Then it was off to Papua New Guinea, where I spent a month aboard MV Golden Dawn, harassing Captain Craig and Bob Halstead.

I didn’t do much macro photography this year, but on this trip, I nailed a super-macro shot of Dinah’s goby (Lubricogobius dinah), a fish I’ve been wanting to photograph for a decade or so:

Super-macro shot of Dinah’s goby (Lubricogobius dinah)

Photographing Dinah’s goby involved using a rebreather, lugging an elaborate camera set-up, and putting in some deco time, but it was worth the effort. Bob and Dinah Halstead documented this fish and had it described, so it was an honour to have Bob find the fish for me, and to be able to help Bob get a print made for Dinah!

My final two picks for the year are from Tonga. It was such an amazing season, with a record 48 humpback whale mother/ calf pair IDs, that it’s extremely difficult to select just two photos.

This picture is special because the adult female is one that I first photographed and ID-ed in 2009. I recognised her immediately on sight. She had the same even-keeled temperament that she did two seasons ago, and her calf was playful, confident and friendly, just like her calf in 2009.

Toluua, humpback whale calf #32 of the 2011 season, with mommy

And last but not least, I am quite fond of this photo of a male humpback whale singing:

Fluke of a humpback whale singer

I’ve spent time with and photographed a lot of singers, but this had to be the most cooperative one ever. From the moment we made eye contact, I could tell that the whale didn’t mind my presence. The white along the sides of its body, and the curly, twisty scar on the right side of its fluke really give the whale character, making for a beautiful portrait of a beautiful animal.

Well…there are certainly many more photos that I liked, but a Top 47 list doesn’t have quite the same ring to it as Top 10 does.

All of these images are more than just pictures to me. They are reminders of incredible experiences, of memories and lessons learned that no amount of money can buy, of another year well spent exploring the world, making friends, and…hopefully…becoming a better photographer and person.

A couple of places have opened up for one of the trips I’m leading to the Eastern Fields in PNG in association with Wetpixel. [Update 5 Jan: Spots filled]

The trip is for 10 to 20 January 2012, aboard MV Golden Dawn. We’ll be heading out to a submerged coral reef atoll system in the middle of the Coral Sea, where the corals are unspoiled and fish teeming, like this:

This is what my favourite dive site
in the Eastern Fields looks like when it’s rockin’

The photo above is from the most intense, fish-filled, absolutely insane reef dive I’ve ever done, at a site in the Eastern Fields called Carl’s Ultimate, named for my friend and mentor Carl Roessler. There’s so much action that you’ll want to go right back in (or, if you’re on rebreather like me, you’ll just stay in for three hours or so at a time, come up to scarf down cookies and chocolate cake, then drop in for another three hours).

To give you a better sense of the diving in the Eastern Fields, below is a video from my previous visit. I’ve posted this before, but in case you haven’t seen it, please take a quick look:

If you have time next January, this is an amazing trip that’s sure to knock your dive socks off.

Please get in touch with Dan Baldocchi for more information, or send me a message via my contact form.

…and hungry predators like this is why the small fish need to swim quickly

It’s been a hectic few weeks for both Jon and me. Jon was away in Alaska until just a few days ago, while I was in Papua New Guinea for the entire month of June.

And…as it turns out, both of us are headed out on trips in the next few days that will see us on the road pretty much until October.

Jon’s headed to the Bahamas soon, where he’ll be trying out a new Aquatech housing for his 5D Mark II with the wild Atlantic spotted dolphins there, and I’m going south on my annual trip to Tonga to photograph humpback whales.

So it was good that we were able to find a little time to catch up over Skype yesterday, just before I was fortunate enough to have a chance to have a brief conversation with Flip Nicklin (see next post).

Among other topics we discussed, Jon told me about how he (accidentally) dumped(!) his dad into the water in Alaska. Talk about a unique father/ son bonding experience.

We also shared our experiences with weather during our respective trips. Even though we were in totally different parts of the world, the weather patterns were off…basically we both had a lot rain.

Despite difficult conditions, Jon came back with stunning images like this:

Dwarf fireweed (Chamerion latifolium) covering the old Columbia Glacier
moraine bar on Heather Island at sunset in Prince William Sound, Alaska

Not to be outdone by Jon, I whined a bit about how bad the weather was in PNG during June and about the dearth of critter life. Again, not to be outdone by Jon, I came back with photos of large aggregations of fish like this:

Countless hardyhead silversides (Atherinomorus lacunosus) swarming under
the jetty at Samarai Island in Milne Bay, Papua New Guinea.

Oh…if you’re looking for an adventure in the fall, Jon still has some spaces available for his trips to photograph polar bears with Steve Kazlowski later this year.

It’s been nearly three weeks since I got back from my recent trip to Milne Bay aboard MV Golden Dawn, and I still haven’t been able to sort through and process all my photos. Sigh.

I’ll be heading out to Tonga soon though, so I need to focus my attention on preparing for the humpback whales…which means I probably won’t make any more headway on my PNG images for a while.

To wrap up my PNG posts for now, here’s a final photo, one that I took when we stopped at a village called Boga Boga at Cape Vogel. It’s a picturesque place, with lots of friendly, energetic kids.

Kids on the beach at Boga Boga village, Cape Vogel, Milne Bay

Trips like this are about more than just diving. Experiences such as visiting beautiful Boga Boga and meeting the wonderful people who live there are enriching and memorable.

In addition, sharing adventures and laughs with old friends and new helps to keep life’s priorities in perspective. When you’re on a boat for a month, isolated from the daily madness of political turmoil, economic crises and other miscellaneous social woes…it’s much easier to focus on what’s important and forget about the things that aren’t.

Of course, there’s always the danger of going a bit funny in the head, as Bob demonstrates in the following video clip (though one could reasonably make the case that he was already somewhat off):

I’d like to say thanks to everyone who was silly enough to join joined me during the trip and put up with my antics…and of course to Craig (and his crew!) and Bob. All kidding aside, their experience, knowledge and patience made the trip, and I’m looking forward to my next opportunity to share another adventure with them.

And finally, I’d like to give a shout out to Scubacam, Light and Motion, Zillion, Aquaforum, Xit 404, and Air Niugini.

It may not be obvious, but trips like this require a lot of preparation and logistical coordination (a situation exacerbated by the fact that I tend to schlep around so much junk and add new junk on a regular basis), and I need assistance and cooperation from a lot of people to pull everything together. So…thank you very much!

Oh…if you’re planning a visit to PNG, please note that Air Niugini has a specific baggage allowance for scuba divers, which some travel/ booking agents may not necessarily know. From Air Niugini’s website:

Air Niugini offers the following baggage allowance for scuba divers; International flights – 20kgs (44lbs) plus an additional 15kgs (33lbs) per person. Domestic flights – 16kgs (35lbs) plus an additional 15kgs (33lbs) per person. Air Niugini honours the International allowance for International passengers in direct transit on same day to a domestic port in PNG