You’d almost think that Mr Whitman was a diver himself…
The World Below the Brine – Walt Whitman
The world below the brine,
Forests at the bottom of the sea, the branches and leaves,
Sea-lettuce, vast lichens, strange flowers and seeds, the thick
tangle openings, and pink turf,
Different colors, pale gray and green, purple, white, and gold, the
play of light through the water,
Dumb swimmers there among the rocks, coral, gluten, grass, rushes,
and the aliment of the swimmers,
Sluggish existences grazing there suspended, or slowly crawling
close to the bottom,
The sperm-whale at the surface blowing air and spray, or disporting
with his flukes,
The leaden-eyed shark, the walrus, the turtle, the hairy
sea-leopard, and the sting-ray,
Passions there, wars, pursuits, tribes, sight in those ocean-depths,
breathing that thick-breathing air, as so many do,
The change thence to the sight here, and to the subtle air breathed
by beings like us who walk this sphere,
The change onward from ours to that of beings who walk other spheres.
Given the “each man for himself” mentality that pervades nature, it appeals to me to find a pair of similar marine creatures who appear to be friends (however naive that assumption may be!). Here are some of the highlights of the last few months. And don’t tell me that a golden retriever doesn’t count as a “marine creature”… When he’s this wet, he does!
Pooches at Long Beach
I’ve only seen button crabs once, so I don’t know if this is how they usually sit, but I find this pair very endearing! I love the way the grey dude is holding onto the brown one.
Embracing button crabs at Long Beach
Here are his and hers sea anemones, right next to each other at Long Beach. I don’t often see two as close together as this, and I thought the juxtaposition of colours was gorgeous.
His and hers anemones
We do sometimes see large groups of starfish feeding. These two, however, appear to be holding hands.
Friendly sea stars
I have struggled endlessly to photograph the orange-clubbed nudibranchs at Long Beach… My camera seems to want to blow out the white whenever I point it at one of them, but the other day, in decidedly inclement conditions, I found two feeding on their favourite meal of bryzoans on a piece of kelp. You can see the particles in the water around them – insidious backscatter – but I was quite happy with this shot. You should see how bad my previous efforts were!
The starfish are still loving the PVC pipes and quite a few of them have moved in.
Barehead goby cosying up with a starfish
Many barehead gobies are in the area and hide under the piping and other features of the reef.
Klipfish living in the coffee jar
A small klipfish has moved into the coffee jar, which is getting quite covered with green algae and sea lettuce. He seems to feel quite safe in there and there’s lots of room for him to grow.
Feather star on a piece of wood
We even found a pipefish snuggled against one of the very green and grassy PVC pipes. Can you see him in the picture below?
PVC pipe with plant growth and a pipefish
Several hermit crabs have also made the artificial reef and its general area their home.
Fish identification books for Cape Town and Southern Africa as a whole are filled with exotic species of crabs, many of which are supposed to be found in the Cape. Until recently, however I thought that the only kind of crab I would ever see in Cape Town would be the fairly common Cape rock crabs. They have similar colouring to West Coast rock lobster, and are often found in similar locations. I’ve had the good fortune of swimming through some kelp (which these crabs like) and having one land on my head and crawl over my face. Not knowing what it was, I got quite a fright!
Cape rock crab - unusual to see them on the sand
In the last few weeks, however, we have had a total crab bonanza, mainly at Long Beach. Part of the reason is that we have been swimming very carefully over the sand, north of the very well-travelled pipeline and smaller wrecks. There we have found some fascinating new friends.
Embracing button crabs in the sand
These two button crabs seem to be in a rather coercive relationship. I found them during the day, but apparently they are more commonly spotted at night. They look like futuristic robots, if you ask me!
Three spot swimming crab
Three spot swimming crabs have mournful faces on their shells, and modified back legs with paddles instead of feet. They are very feisty and will often stand their ground when encountered in the shallows. We often see a large female accompanied by her tiny male partner.
Feisty three spot swimming crab
There are also thousands of beautiful little crown crabs all over the sand at Long Beach. They are so well camouflaged that unless you keep still and look closely, most of the time you swim right over them.
Crown crabs on the sand
On the deeper reefs, where sea fans are found, you can spot sponge crabs clinging onto the fronds of the sea fans. We found this guy at Boat Rock in False Bay. Often all you can see is the little claws sticking out of the sponge, holding onto the reef.
Sponge crab on coral
There are many crab species that are only found in the Atlantic. As soon as Tony has a warmer wetsuit, we will be able to explore that side of the peninsula more often, and hopefully report back with pictures of sumo crabs and the like!
Of course, there are also the hermit crabs, the soft-bodied crabs that live in borrowed shells – but they are the subject of another post.
I have done one prior dive on the SS Maori, about a year ago. It was one of the most unpleasant experiences of my life, one I am not keen to repeat. The boat ride was harrowing – we took the narrow channel between Duiker Island and the mainland, and I had my eyes closed for most of it. I am not a good sailor, but Tony is, and even he was seeing his life flash before his eyes. Huge waves were coming from all directions and we later learned that the skipper had been so terrified negotiating the channel that he’d called the owner of the dive shop as soon as he’d dropped the divers into the water, and practically sobbed.
Klipfish on the Maori
We were actually intending to visit the BOS 400, but when we got there the surge through the wreck was incredibly strong and the entire superstructure was creaking ominously. A call was made to go to the SS Maori instead – it’s a couple of hundred metres from the crane and the wreck is scattered on the seabed rather than being still mostly intact. The dive itself was extremely stressful – maybe 3 metres visibility, temperatures so cold that I sucked my tank dry in about 20 minutes (ended up on Tony’s octo), strong surge on the bottom that made it impossible to control where one was going, and I honestly didn’t see anything that I could describe as a wreck.
Tami zoning in on something interesting
The experience we had diving the Maori on Reconcilation Day could not have been more different. Tami and I were finishing our Wreck Specialty course, Cecil was finishing his Open Water course, and Tony had a group of casual divers with him. The boat ride was a pleasure, apart from the smell (or rather, taste!) of the seals on Duiker Island as we sped past. The water was so blue that Grant could see the wreck below us while he dropped the shot line.
Iron water pipes on the Maori
The SS Maori ran aground in Maori Bay (named after it) in 1909 in thick fog. The ship lies perpendicular to the mainland, depth ranging from about 6 metres down to about 22 metres towards the centre of the bay. The ship was carrying a cargo of railway lines, cast iron pipes (visible in great stacks that are very tempting to try and swim through – common sense won out), explosives, and crockery. A fair amount of beautiful porcelain is still visible on the site, but apparently it’s been well worked and looted over the years.
Looking through a pipe
The visiblity on this dive was sufficient (20 metres or so) for us to be able to see far down the ship as we explored. Parts of the wreckage are very broken up, but there are large parts of the wreck that are relatively intact. We descended on the engine block, at the shallow end of the wreck, and into beautiful kelp forests that glistened green in the clear water. It was cold, very cold, but having something amazing to look at tends to distract one from the inconvenience of chilly fingers.
Rock lobsters on the Maori
As far as sea life goes, there’s a fair amount of kelp and other sea plants. Oscar found me a huge cuttlefish to photograph, just posing nicely on a rock, and there were some molluscs, the odd nudibranch, lots and lots of rock lobsters and crabs. We also saw a nice school of hottentot. Like the BOS 400, though, you visit this site first to look at the wreckage. Anything else you see is a bonus.
Cuttlefish on the Maori
I can see why the Maori is such a popular dive site – we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and Tami and I were heartbroken when we had to ascend, as our air reached 70 bar. It’s a very large site and several dives are required to appreciate its full scope. I plan to do those several dives, and then some!
Wreckage of the Maori
Dive date: 16 December 2010
Air temperature: 23 degrees
Water temperature: 4 degrees (that’s what my computer said!)
Ten days after installing our artificial reef at Long Beach, we paid it a visit to see how it had held up. The southeaster had been blowing very strongly since we put it in the water, so we were concerned about its effects on the reef.
Visiting the reef
There was no need to worry. Gobies, starfish, and perhaps even an octopus (check out the shells and other debris at the entrance to the white pot) have moved in.
Starfish on the reef
Feather stars have started to attach themselves. Because of the reef’s triangular shape, several pieces of kelp and sea lettuce got caught inside the triangle, providing shelter to small fish.
Sponges, starfish and a goby
The five sponges have lost their colour (except for the green one), and plant life and algae is already colonising the PVC pipes that make up the superstructure. The sea doesn’t waste any time!
Tony and I have been itching to dive the jetty in front of Bertha’s for some time. We enjoy eating take away dinners on the steps there, and watching the fishermen trying to catch squid for bait in the evenings. We finally found time while on honeymoon, and went there with Kate to see what we could find.
Not a good place to surface carelessly
Despite being told by an officious member of the public that what we were doing was HIGHLY ILLEGAL and that we would get RUN OVER BY A BOAT (which became a possiblity when we found ourselves in a metre of water in front of a slipway at one point) or worse, blasted out of the water with space lasers and locked up in lead-lined cells for the rest of our lives, the Navy Ops Room were totally chilled about it when we called them.
Under Simon's Town jetty
We did giant strides in from the steps on the left hand side of the jetty. The tide was out, so the bottom few steps were green and very slippery. A small crowd of onlookers gathered to observe us. We had hoped to spend much of the dive under the jetty, but when we got in a very strong current and mounds of sea lettuce – the most irritating plant in the world – caused us to ditch that plan and swim around the jetty and to the west, towards the exit of the yacht basin.
Sign in Simon's Town yacht basin
The visibility was good, and the sea lettuce was only intermittently annoying. We met lots of klipfish, some very friendly. Only one shyshark made an appearance, but large numbers of abalone colonise the rocks and tyres down there. It’s not as full of litter as I’d expect – I suppose I should have learned my lesson about how clean harbours can be with our Robben Island dive – and everything that is lying in the water has been heavily encrusted with coralline algae and sea plants.
Friendly klipfish coming in for a look
We spent most of the dive at around 2 metres – it was low tide and it’s not deep there at all. Under the jetty we found enormous false plum anemones, fanworms, and some very interesting encrustations on the pillars.By the end of the dive the current had lessened, and the conditions there were much more suited to a leisurely exploration.
False plum anemone (and sea lettuce) under the jetty
Getting out took a bit of thought and acrobatics (fortunately no audience except for the self-appointed policewoman of Simon’s Town) because the tide had gone so far out that we couldn’t get onto the bottom step of our entry point without taking our kit off, climbing a small ladder, walking along a crossbeam, and stepping from there onto the step, which was covered in green slime.
To get out, we climbed up the ladder...... walked along the crossbeam...... and up the steps
Verdict: This is definitely a site to be dived just before high tide, much like the Knysna lagoon, to facilitate entry and exit and to ensure that you aren’t fighting the current the whole time.
If you’re a Cape Town diver, I certainly hope you’ve taken advantage of the incredible – I repeat, incredible – shark diving opportunity that is right on your doorstep. I’m not talking about shysharks… I’ve got the sevengill cowsharks at Shark Alley, just inshore of Pyramid Rock, in mind.
Shark Alley is a shore entry site just past Miller’s Point, though it’s a tricky climb down the hill and over the rocks so many dive centres do boat dives there as well. The maximum depth is about 12 metres, and the site is characterised by beautiful pink-encrusted rocks, sea urchins, and waving kelp fronds. That’s not why divers go there, however. They go there to visit the cowsharks.
Just a few metres offshore, in a bare patch in a V-shaped space in the kelp, we settle on the sandy bottom and wait for the sharks. They don’t disappoint – Shark Alley is their meeting place, where they hang out during the day, and you’re almost guaranteed a sighting or five.
Tony and a cowshark - I love this picture, looks like he's hiding in the kelp... But the shark is behind him!
These beautiful creatures grow to up to 3 metres in length – a lot of fish – and are curious, swimming close to divers to take a look. You can see their eyes following you as they pass by, close enough to touch… But don’t!
Not much is known about these sharks. They are ambush predators, hunting in packs, in poor visibility (so a night dive or a dive at Shark Alley when the sea is very murky is something to think about very carefully). They eat other sharks, seals, fish, and pretty much anything they can get their teeth into.
Sevengill cowshark that swam underneath me on a dive
We’ve seen as many as 15 different sharks on one dive, and on repeat dives we have recognised the same specimens over and over. Many of the sharks have big bite and tooth marks on their sides, and bits out of their fins… Some of this is from mating behaviour (apparently a bit violent), but possibly also from fights between the sharks. They will eat each other if the opportunity arises, being fairly indiscriminate when it comes to diet.
This shark appears to have been badly bitten - much of its tail is missing
It’s not clear whether they leave Shark Alley at night to go hunting, or whether it’s a place they come to to rest, socialise, or hide. The actual number of cowsharks passing in and out of False Bay isn’t clear either – we don’t know what fraction of the total population the sharks we see at Shark Alley represent.
Broadnose sevengill cowshark in dodgy visibility
Some of the sharks we see have white spots on their backs – one in particular we call Tipp-Ex because of the size and number of spots. The spots are caused by a fungus – I’m not sure if it’s harmful to the sharks, and whether they catch it from one another through contact when feeding or mating.
The photos in this post were taken on the same dive during which we had a close encounter with a very confident female cowshark. You can see that the visibility was extremely poor (so apologies for the photo quality!). The video footage is from prior dives.
Here’s a rough edit of a lovely dive we did at Long Beach last year (Clare twisted my arm to put this up – I’m not happy with the state of polish of the final version), in 14 degree water with 7 metre visibility. The surface conditions were choppy, as you can see at the end of the video, but under the surface it was lovely.
There’s lots to see. Early on, look out for the common sandprawn (the large, white shrimpy thing). We see lots of their discarded carapaces at Long Beach but this is the only one we’ve seen with a sandprawn inside to date.
There’s also a huge cloud of fry – not sure which fish species, but clearly the imminent onset of spring was encouraging breeding! There’s a very brief shot of a chubby clingfish – the small orange chap clinging onto some sea lettuce, of which there is plenty. Watch out for the Cape topshell on the kelp, and a nudibranch egg ribbon on some green seaweed.
There’s an octopus, a super klipfish, a surprisingly tame puffadder shyshark and his relative the dark shyshark, and a fat longsnout pipefish. We saw a box sea jelly and a night light sea jelly, a peacock fanworm, and my favourite warty pleurobranch. And, of course, there are barehead gobies…
The video concludes with a shot of the inside of the barge wreck at Long Beach.
I find klipfish the most frustrating creatures to identify – they come in a bewildering array of colours and patterns, and I am waiting impatiently for Guido Zsilavecz of SURG‘s book on klipfish to be completed!
Klipfish and sea lettuce at Long Beach
Klipfish are lazy swimmers, and green and brown ones are usually seen very well camouflaged among fronds of sea lettuce or kelp. They tend to move in exactly the same way as the seaweed, allowing themselves to be pushed around by the surge, which makes them hard to spot.
Klipfish hiding on kelp at Long Beach
There are also the more colourful variety – busy purple patterns being the most common – who hide themselves where there’s a lot of coraline algae and other purple seaweed growth. While they tend to spend most of their time curled lazily against the side of rocks or on the pipeline, they can swim away with startling speed when they feel nervous.
Small klipfish at Long Beach
These fish usually seem to be solitary, but Tony and I saw a pair of them fighting – we think – at Long Beach a week or two ago. Since they seem fairly territorial, that may have been the source of the dispute. Whatever they were doing, it was the first time we’ve seen more than one of these fish in the same place, let alone interacting.
Fighting klipfish at Long Beach
On Saturday I met a klipfish at Long Beach who was incredibly tame. He submitted to (and seemed to enjoy) having his chin tickled, head butted my mask a few times, and nibbled at my bubbles after trying to swim into by BC. I was interacting with him while Tony was doing the CESA skill with a student, and it was wonderful. Feeling that the fish are noticing you, rather than just swimming past oblivious (or hiding in panic), is very special.
Klipfish getting his chin tickledComing in for a kiss
Here’s an extremely dodgy video (the sea lettuce was somewhat annoying) of me and Corné (with the orange SMB) having some quality klipfish time.
