Our last dive was special. Avi piloted Brian and me through the blue, down and down past a huge school of mackerel that followed us until we passed through 300 feet, when the faint glimmer of surface sun disappeared. From there on we were in the black perpetual night of the deep ocean. We slowed and finally stopped 10 feet above the bottom, with 1,000 feet of sea on top of us. If we were to step outside of our sub, there would be 1,617 pounds per square inch pressing on our bodies, and we would implode to the size of a pint of jello. Needless to say, we decided to stay inside the sub!

If I described SCUBA diving as flying on another planet, then looking out at the bottom at 1,000 feet was being in another galaxy. The bottom was granular sand punctuated by rocks. We saw a few red scorpion fish, and then, as Avi moved the sub toward a great wall of volcanic rock, an unworldly deep sea octopus slithered by, changing its color to a deep red of alarm.


Photographer Brian Skerry eerily lit in the DEEPSEE submarine at 1,000 feet below the surface.
(Top) Alan Dynner looks out on the deep sea ocean life of the Sea of Cortez.

Then we moved slowly up the wall, passing strange jelly fish. Suddenly we saw two long neon flashes from bioluminescent creatures. It happened too fast to identify them. As we ascended, there were more and more white deep sea sponges and yellow corals. At 500 feet the wall ended, and we sailed through the water column past jellies, a school of bait fish, and finally to the surface with the welcoming sun and bright blue sky. The deep is mysterious and wonderful, and I am thrilled to have visited this strange realm.

- Alan Dynner

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Labels: Alan Dynner, DEEPSEE

This post is by expedition team member Alan Dynner.

Dawn quickly brightened into a cloudless sky over a flat Sea of Cortez after a 12-hour overnight trip north. We came to this spot because Avi Klapfer, our ship's owner, reported that there is a small seamount venting hot water and covered with sea life. For me, this day became one of sensory overload.

First was a SCUBA dive along the rough, rocky coast, starting in 25 feet and dropping off to 80 feet. The volcanic rocky bottom was teaming with fish, albeit small ones. Schools of snapper, pairs of butterfly fish, gorgeous angel fish, small groupers, a trigger fish here and there and a lot of boxy, pouting, bristling porcupine fish. I spent the last 15 minutes of a 50 minute dive hanging at 15 feet by a cavern full of all kinds of fish, back lit by a large hole in the rear of the cave.



A mother and calf short-finned pilot whale pair.
Photo by the NMFS Southwest fisheries science center.

Upon surfacing we were picked up by our dive launch and sped away towards an amazing sight--several pods of pilot whales rolling across the surface of the sea. We all quickly put on masks, fins and snorkels and slid quietly into the water, moving slowly towards the advancing whales. Most of the whales avoided us, but three (a big male and two females came right towards me. I turned and tried vainly to swim beside them; while they were too fast for me, I had the thrill of the two females, perhaps 15 feet long, coming within a few feet of me. We climbed back into the launch, only to speed ahead of the pod for still another visit. This time the whales dived beneath us, but I dived to 20 feet and again had a close encounter with these graceful, powerful animals. What a thrill!



But the thrills were only beginning. Greg Stone asked me to go on the first submarine dive on our expedition with Brian Skerry, Aquarium overseer and National Geographic star photographer, and our pilot, Schmulak. The sub is unique. It is a big bubble clam shell that can descend to 1,500 feet, maneuver on a dime, collect specimens, and take video. Most importantly for our mission, the sub is outfitted by National Geographic with a high resolution still camera that Brian operates to take photos for the coming article on seamounts.



I'll admit that I was unbelievably excited about my first dive in a sub. After donning a cotton jump suit and socks, Bryan and I gingerly entered the sub. As the sub descended, the water color changed from bright sunny blue to twilight blue to purple to black. Then ahead of us loomed a rock surface, like a small version of Everest covered with crevices and caves. In most of them swam foot long scarlet fish. Wow! A small, strange looking shark! An ugly giant frog fish! And then, a series of miniature volcanoes spewing boiling hot water that shimmered against the cold sea water. Many of the vents were surrounded by fields of white bacteria that feed off of the chemicals that are emitted. After Brian finished taking pictures, we surfaced with a feeling of awe and exhilaration.

-Alan Dynner

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Labels: Alan Dynner, ARGOS, biodiversity, DEEPSEE, hydrothermal vents, pilot whale

This post is by expedition team member Alan Dynner.

As the open boat zipped through the Sea of Cortez towards the El Bajo seamount, Greg Stone, Jeff Gale and I checked our dive gear with eager anticipation. Although I have made thousands of SCUBA dives all over the world since I started diving at age 16, each new dive is magical. When we dive we enter an alien world, with strange and beautiful (and sometimes dangerous) animals and plants, devoid of most sounds. And best of all, we are flying through the 3 dimensional space of the ocean. So as we splashed into the water and descended 80 feet to the summit of the seamount, we were again thrilled.
The seamount is totally different from the colorful coral reefs that divers usually frequent. It is volcanic rock, but not totally bare because some corals and other flora make their homes here. El Bajo is also an apartment house for green moray eels, with their beady eyes and vicious-looking teeth. Actually they are not aggressive and can be easily approached, but don't try to grab one. At certain spots where plankton was upwelling from deep currents, clouds of little anthius fish were feeding along with a school of lovely surgeon fish (so called because of the scalpel-like spike hidden in their dorsal fin). But there were no large fish around and no sharks at all. Commercial fishermen have taken most of the large fish.

Divers once traveled to the Sea of Cortez primarily to see sharks, and especially huge schools of hammerhead sharks. Our dive master, Alfredo, lamented at how fleets of Asian boats seeking shark fins for Chinese shark fin soup had over the years nearly extinguished the species. As Alfredo put it, "they have murdered the soul of the ocean." [Interestingly, Alfredo, who did not know about the New England Aquarium's role in helping to create the Phoenix Islands Protected Area, said, "I've heard of a marine protected park in the Phoenix Islands in the Pacific. I wish we could establish such a park in the Sea of Cortez to save our marine life."]

Our second dive was in the shallow waters surrounding a huge structure of rocks, looking like ruins of Classic Greece, but covered with birds up high and down low inhabited by dozens of sea lions. We entered their realm and were welcomed like old friends. The females and their pups soared playfully around us, up and down and staying just out of reach. They seemed intrigued by the red faceplate of my dive mask (a color correction device for diving, where the color red is lost first as one descends). They would come up within six inches and stare at me eye to eye. We moved over to a group of females in a rock cove, and suddenly out came the male "beachmaster," defending his harem. He swam up to us and grunted menacingly.


A playful sea lion

That evening we met with the owner of ARGOS, the ship that will be our home for the active expedition. With him were two of the pilots of the submarine that will take us down to 1,000 or more feet, well below the depth safe for SCUBA diving. Avi, the owner, has over 30 years experience with dive ship operations, and the two Israeli navy veterans who will pilot us to the depths inspired confidence. We are looking forward eagerly to our other expedition members joining us and to the ship getting under way.

-Alan Dynner

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Labels: Alan Dynner, anthius fish, ARGOS, El Bajo Seamount, moray eel, SCUBA, sea lion, seamounts, surgeon fish

This post is by expedition team member Alan Dynner.

Our flight to La Paz from LA was peaceful until we neared our destination. I had been anticipating bright sunshine and searing heat. Instead, a storm was raging and our little plane was bucking like a bronco. Greg Stone and I came down the stairs into a monsoon and were soaked during the walk-run to the arrival area.


The Sea of Cortez threw us a welcoming party.

We were met for the drive to our hotel by two representatives of our dive shop, one of whom was a Japanese woman. You should have seen her face when Greg started speaking to her in Japanese! And since the driver did not speak English, I got to practice my Spanish with him as we drove through the 6 inches of water flooding the streets.


Checking equipment for tomorrow's dive.

The storm finally subsided but we learned last night that the ocean is too rough and our diving today was cancelled. We are busy fiddling with equipment and preparing for what we hope is our exploratory dive on the El Bajo seamount tomorrow.

-Alan Dynner

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Labels: Alan Dynner, El Bajo Seamount, Equipment, Sea of Cortez