Eerily Beautiful, IV

So how was the sponges dive?

Deep, dark, short and utterly fascinating. Even though I somehow created a mental picture of what to expect, I hadn’t imagined all the surprises that awaited me.

What proved to be spot on was my expectation to be the rookie on this trip. The “Sponge charter” as today was unofficially labeled, was organized by Rockfish Divers - an outfit from Victoria, preferred by many experienced locals. As the participants started to converge on the pier, it was immediately evident that they knew their trade. If you see someone putting on all of their cold diving gear in 2 minutes flat, you know they are not new to this. Good thing I arrived first!

Once on board, the ride-in takes only a few minutes. Our destination - the north side of the Senanus Island in Saanich Inlet is less than 2 miles from the Angler’s Anchorage Marina, our point of departure.

After a short briefing about the dive - mostly for my benefit - we are ready to go. I buddy up with Larry and follow him as the second diver overboard. Tyler, Rockfish owner and today also the captain of the vessel, passes me my camera rig. Larry makes the “Thumbs down” sign and we are ready to dive.

Or .. that’s what I thought...

I deflate my BCD and dry suit but sink only a few inches. Damn, I am too buoyant. How did that happen? I turn upside down and use my fins to propel myself downward. That works, but when I right myself I start going up again. Meanwhile, Larry has gone through the soupy cloudy water below and I cannot see him anymore. I try again with the same result. I bob up again. I am ready to ask Tyler for more lead, when Larry pops up next to me. “I am too light”, I explain. “I will give it one more try.” I do my flip again and Larry follows me down. Four feet below the surface he pushes my head down a few more inches. That works and I finally start to sink. We are on our way.

As we parachute down through clouds of plankton, I switch on my camera and flashes. My drysuit starts to squeeze as the pressure increases. I pump in some air. Then, quite suddenly the view opens. I see Larry hovering over a slope composed of smaller boulders and rocky outcrops. Eerie green light shrouds the scene and peters out to black below. I check my gauges. Ninety feet - we are deep already. I level off and follow Larry onward. A few kicks and there they are. The sponges. Quite frankly - I expected one or two clumps, but there are what seems to be dozens of fragile looking structures looming ghostly white in the dark water.

I approach the one closest to me. I tweak my buoyancy as best I can. The sponge’s body is literally glass - built from silica stripped directly from the sea water. I need to be careful - they are bound to be fragile. I scan over the sponge in front of me. I tentatively identify it as the Cloud sponge (Aphrocallistes vastus). It is about 4 feet across, creamy white. Now I understand where its name comes from - the sponge with is many folds and smooth curves does look like a cloud. I snap a photo and move on to the next. Sponge reefs are islands of diversity on otherwise barren sea floor and I am looking for creatures that might be hiding in their folds. Sure enough - there is a small Copper rockfish (Sebastes caurinus) peeking out of its glass cave and I manage to take a shot before my lights scare it away.

I keep swimming over the reef taking pictures and fiddling with my suit valves trying to manage my body position more effectively. I know I will only be as good a photographer as I am a diver. Without a perfect buoyancy control it will be hard to take good shots. But, that’s why I am here. Such skills do not come from sitting at a desk. I glance at my dive computer again. At 100 feet our bottom time is quickly running out. In a few minutes I will be bumping into my non deco limits. I wish to stay, but need to go up. Cresting the rocky slope above me I leave the sponges and emerge on a small plateau. I notice several of my fellow divers coming up from the depths, too. Physics apply to us all. The ascent buys me a few more minutes to explore so I look around for the next shot. I notice Larry making signs at me with his flashlight and as I come closer he casts the beam on a beautiful Swimming anemone (Stomphia didemon) perched in a perfect position on a small rocky crest. Although mostly sedentary, this anemone species can actually walk off on its stalk when threatened by predatory leather stars. This one however is mercifully still and gives me a chance to take an easy shot. Then my computer reminds me the dive is over. The day has one more surprise in store for me though. As I approach the permanent anchor rope, marking our way back I look up and stare. Its entire length of at least 60 feet is covered with Giant plumose anemones (Metridium farcimen). A single Giant anemone is a beautiful sight, but an entire skyward ladder of them is simply stunning . I realize I could spend an entire tank just exploring the rope itself.

Wow, I need to come back.

The permanent anchor rope covered with Giant plumose anemones (Metridium farcimen)

Petr Myska