Contributed by expedition photographer Brian Skerry

I have spent the last three days living a boyhood dream--exploring the ocean in a submersible. I have been SCUBA diving for over thirty years and taking pictures underwater for nearly as long, but I have never been inside a true submersible until now. It is everything I thought it would be and more!

This trip is the beginning of the Seamounts story that Greg Stone and I are producing for National Geographic Magazine. My goal as the story photographer is to produce images of seamounts that illustrate the immense value these places have as biodiversity hotspots in the sea; some of the last remaining hotspots in our world's oceans.

The seamount we've been exploring here in the Sea of Cortez is El Bajo, once a lush and wild place, famous for massive schools of hammerhead sharks and a wealth of other marine life. Today however, it is a shadow of its former self due to decades of over fishing. I had hoped that with the deep submersible dives we would find that the devastation was limited to only shallow waters, but it does not appear to be the case.

While we have seen some beautiful animals, there are very few and the evidence of destruction is clearly present. I have shifted my photographic focus to using El Bajo as an example of what can go wrong without protection of these jewels of the sea. I have been photographing lost fishing gear, especially massive fishing nets that have been lost on the bottom here. These trawler and seiner nets are draped over the reef and boulders of the seamount, a testimony to the severe pressure this site has received over the years.

I have been shooting with a newly designed deep-sea camera system developed by National Geographic Magazine for this project. With the superb maneuvering by the sub pilots I have been able to get very close to my subjects and make pictures. I've also made a few dives and made pictures the old fashioned way too--with a camera and underwater housing.


Brian Skerry (right) emerges from the DEEPSEE submarine after a dive.
In the photo above left Skerry photographs the ship for National Geographic story about the expedition.

Diving in the sub is fantastic! Just the sensation of slowly descending below the waves, then seeing the colors of blue morph into darker shades, then into shades of green is mesmerizing. I find that I have to shake myself out of a sleepy trance-like feeling and concentrate on the job at hand. It feels strange to me, seeing fish and gliding over rocks without being wet.

Although this component is short, only four days, it has already been extremely valuable from several perspectives, especially in regards to the learning curve of such a complex project. The next trip for this project/story will show the other side, the magnificent wildlife that live around seamounts and will explore places never been seen. I simply cannot wait!

-Brian Skerry

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Labels: biodiversity, Brian Skerry, El Bajo Seamount, overfishing

This post was written by expedition team member Wendy Benchley.

The devastating reality of a depleted sea rocked my soul yesterday. The El Bajo seamount still rises with majesty from the sea bed, but it is fundamentally changed.


Moon rise over the Sea of Cortez

Twenty five years ago, I remember the thrill of swimming off the edge of the seamount into the open blue water to cruise with schools of jacks, tuna, grouper, hammerheads and, with luck, a manta ray of two. Now the only schools of fish were tiny chromis and on the top of the mount were small numbers of angel, butterfly, trigger, puffer and scorpion fishes. My heart leapt when off in the distance I saw a grouper. Imagine that, one grouper is now a treat in this depleted sea!

The data and images we are recording will be important to move ocean conversation issues forward. I keep hope alive by focusing on the work Greg Stone, the New England Aquarium and Conservation International did to create the California-sized Phoenix Islands marine protected area in the Pacific ocean. If we could create more of these areas there is a chance the ocean could regain enough health to provide the fish protein needed to feed the world.

Perhaps this afternoon I will see a different ocean. I'm in high anticipation--it's my turn to ride in the DEEPSEE. Claustrophobia was worrying me a couple days ago, but now that I've seen the superbly trained pilots put the expertly crafted sub through its paces, I feel not a twinge of anxiety. I hope to see a deeper ocean filled with life and perhaps a manta or two to make my heart sing.

- Wendy Benchley

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Labels: biodiversity, El Bajo Seamount, Manta Ray, Wendy Benchley

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

On May 16, 2005, the 6,600-ton nuclear submarine U.S.S. San Francisco entered a poorly charted area 400 miles southwest of Guam in the Pacific Ocean. While traveling at 38 miles per hour at 500 feet the colossal submarine suddenly buckled into the side of an uncharted seamount, killing one sailor and injuring 75. Fortunately, the thick inner hull protecting the nuclear reactor and crew held. Amidst the pandemonium that ensued, the sub and all but the one crew member survived.

The San Francisco slammed into one of the estimated sixty thousand seamounts that rise from the seafloor in all oceans of the Earth. Most are uncharted, only a few hundred have ever been visited, less than 1000 have names and only a handful have been intensively studied.


Map of documented seamounts (pdf)

Seamounts are a combination of extinct and active underwater volcanoes. On July 3, 2005, a seamount erupted off the coast of Japan, spewing smoke into the air and clouds of mud into the water, first noticed by airline pilots flying in the region. In 1952, another seamount off the cost of Japan erupted, releasing city-sized clouds of CO2 gas that rose to the surface and enveloped a 200-foot ship, sinking the vessel in the foam that formed on the sea surface like a giant glass of beer.

Seamounts, the hidden mountains of the sea, rival the Rocky Mountains in size and challenge coral reefs for the high levels of biodiversity. Seamounts contain many new and endemic species and are now recognized as the last frontier in earth geography, ocean science and conservation.

Complex networks of deep and shallow currents swirling around, up and over these giant seamounts enriches the water, increasing ocean productivity and encouraging concentrations of ocean life. While it is very hard to save many areas of coastal ocean life, where over fishing is decades old, there is still time to save the biodiversity of seamounts, many of which are still pristine. International initiatives to save the unique life living on seamounts are critical for ocean conservation.

We are exploring the seamounts of the Sea of Cortez in the hope that understanding these underwater mountains will help build the awareness to protect them and seamounts everywhere.

-Gregory Stone

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Labels: biodiversity, exploration, Greg Stone, seamounts, U.S.S. San Francisco