Humpback whale BCY0768 viewed lunge feeding from 700+ feet above the whale. Telephoto and cropped. Photo: Hildering
Do you have 2.5 minutes?
I’ve compressed the highlights of my marine adventures of that last 24+ hours into a little slide show. What an extraordinary privilege it has been.
Yesterday, while in a helicopter some 1,000 feet above them, I watched humpback whales lunge feed.
Today, on the way to our weekly dive, there was a bit of a diversion . . . 3 matrilines (family groups) of fish-eating killer whales needed to pass before we could proceed.
While getting into our dive gear, in the sunshine, a few Pacific white-sided dolphins swam by.
Then . . . there was the dive with so much more beauty and bounty.
Sometimes, I feel like I might explode with the wonder and privilege of it all.
Thankfully, I have avenues like this to share and to feel like I might be able to make these adventures count; to enhance understanding and conservation for all this beauty and biodiversity.
Please share in the wonder with me.
Click this link to go from high above the northeast Pacific, into her depths.
(Last video in the gallery at this link).
Diamondback nudibranch (sea slug) among red soft coral, sponge and brooding anemones. This specimen only about 5 cm long. Photo: Hildering
The Marine Detective in a bull kelp forest. Photo: G. Miller
Due to weather and other circumstances, I did not go diving this weekend. As a result, I feel rather “undone” and out of sorts.
It has become essential to my well-being to submerge in the North Pacific at least once a week. Is this because I am addicted to the nitrogen buzz? Do I need the rapture that comes with descending into such natural beauty and wonder? Is it because I get to “check-out” of my terrestrial life for a little while? Does diving move me into a meditative state? Do I miss my fishy and sluggy friends? Do I need the inspiration and perspective on what it truly important in life? Or is it because I was a sea lion in a past life and have not made the full transition to a human existence?
All of these factors may in part cause my desperate need to dive but Dr. Joseph MacInnis states it all so much more eloquently and powerfully in this excerpt from the introduction to his book “Saving the Oceans” (text which I wrote on the first page of my first dive log).
“Of all the acts that confirm our unconscious need to reconsider Nature, few are as symbolic as descending into the ocean. As scuba divers . . . we step off the land, leaving behind our urban alliance with concrete and asphalt. Underwater, our survival hinges on containers of portable air. Inside this strange inner space, we become weightless, drifting toward our aquatic origins.
As trespassers in this other world we are more susceptible to shifts in thinking and emotion. Our eyes are captured by unfamiliar colours and patterns of light and shadow. The pressurized air sliding in and out of our lungs reminds us of our mortality. And from this, it is not a large intuitive leap to consider the mortality of the planet.”
I need to dive!!
Today, despite a powerful storm, I completed my 600th dive (thank you dear buddy, Jacqui Engel).
Vermillion rockfish.
Six hundred dives is not such a big deal if you are a warm water diver. However, the vast majority of my dives were in the cold waters of Northern Vancouver Island and, it does feel like a big deal.
I only started diving when I was 36. Now, at age 47, I have been diving less than 11 years and have thereby averaged a dive per week over this time. It’s the equivalent of about 19 days underwater.
I am not usually boastful (I think) but it seems really significant to acknowledge this milestone and to try to share why diving is so important to me.
In an attempt not to be too earnest though, I try to express “Why Dive?” by way of some bad poetry.
Why Dive?
Opalescent nudibranch.
Constricted by my dry suit,
Thirty pounds bound to my waist,
Hunchbacked by my cylinder,
A mask suctioned to my face,
I leave the world we’ve cultivated,
To attempt to meet our every whim,
To where Nature’s voice can still be heard,
Far above civilization’s din.
No governments, no borders,
Nor economies present.
When down here, I’m reminded,
Of life’s depth and true intent.
I’m an awkward and brief visitor,
In this world of colour and perfection.
I fill with humility, wonder,
Passion and quiet introspection.
Red rock crab near a sand-rose anemone.
For Mother Ocean is home to life,
Older than mammals can comprehend.
I’m grateful that I may learn from her,
Leaving solid ground when I descend.
Diving brought me greater purpose,
Love, vision and camaraderie.
I think that what some find in a church,
I find . . . deep . . . within the sea.
On to the next 600 dives.
Postscript: There was additional “poetry” to today’s dive because it took place after a very powerful storm. Flooding caused the ocean to turn chocolate brown.
This “after the storm” dive further made me reflect on how diving is like a metaphor for life’s greatest challenges. At the risk of the repercussions of exposing you to bad poetry AND “Hallmark-esque” reflections, I will only share the following:
With great thanks to those who have made me the diver I am.
Come on. You know you want to, just for 3 minutes.
Come on the dives I did today. 
The little slide show I have put together, is a testimony to the grand, jaw-dropping biodiversity of this area (Northern Vancouver Island, B,C., CANADA).
The Minke whale we saw, the fish using a sponge as a hammock, the bald eagle chick that took one of its first flights – all these are animals that I have learned from by knowing a small part of the world’s ocean well enough to be able to recognize individual animals.
Such a privilege and such a joy to share with you.
Come away with me . . . . click here.
It’s the day before summer begins and . . . what a day it was.
Bull kelp forest, housing an extraordinary amount and diversity of life.
We had radiant sunshine and a flat-calm ocean during our dive today.
I can think of no better way to share the beauty and wonder of today’s adventure than to take you below the kelp with me.
Please see today’s images at link below. I have included captions that provide a bit of information about the species we were so fortunate to see.
Swimming anemone at Stubbs Island, N. Vancouver Island, BC
Today there was quite a small tidal exchange which allowed us to dive a more challenging site, Stubbs Island.
On larger tides, this island receives so much current that eddies and big upwellings form. All this churning water means there is abundant oxygen and plankton delivery so the density of marine-life on Stubbs Island is truly mind-blowing. There isn’t a centimetre of rock that does not have something growing on it.
Glen and I would like to share our images from this dive today. We hope they give a sense of the awe-inspiring beauty and biodiversity of our Northern Vancouver Island marine “backyard”.
I’ll let our photos do talking.
Click here for our photos of - just one dive at Stubbs Island.
Bull kelp forest
Come with me on my dive today into the remarkable bull kelp forest (Nereocystis luetkeana) “alive” in the current.
Bull kelp is so beautiful, especially right now. It is growing at an insanely fast rate (apparently up to 60 cm a day) and is an intense colour green unlike anything else I know. When older, it will become more olive coloured.
Kelp is not a plant but rather, it is an algae. It makes food from sunlight, like plants do (by photosynthesis), but it has simpler structures and different chemical pathways.
Bull kelp is growing so fast to allow the leaf-like parts, called “fronds”, to be closer to the sun so more food can be made. The round part of the kelp, is the “pneumatocyst” and it is for floatation, letting the fronds drift at the surface to catch the sun’s rays. This bladder-like structure is completely hollow and is filled with carbon monoxide (NOT carbon dioxide). Apparently, there is enough carbon monoxide in the bladder of bull kelp to kill a chicken! Now that’s valuable information.
The stem-like part is called the “stipe” and it is also hollow. It can be 36 metres long! Since it is hollow, bull kelp can be played like a trumpet or didgeridoo!
The kelp does not have roots but rather a “holdfast”, a mess of woody structures that holds onto rocks. The kelp will actually change the ocean bottom by carrying off rocks that are too small to be a counter force to the floatation of the kelp’s bladder.
The stipe gets thinner near the holdfast which is why this kelp likely got its name. “Bull kelp” because the stipe is shaped like a “bull whip”.
This kelp forest is life-giving. Like plants, the algae produce oxygen, use carbon dioxide (reducing the amount causing climate change) and are food for animals. Sea urchins love to mow down on bull kelp. Humans can also eat it. I love pickled young bull kelp!
When there is lots of large kelp like this, it truly is – a forest, providing habitat for some 750 species of fish and animals without backbones (invertebrates).
Bull kelp is also an aid to navigation as boaters should know it is shallower where you see kelp.
And yes, you can do puppet shows with bull kelp, cutting a face into the bladder like you would into a jack-o-lantern. The fronds even look like two pig-tails!
We divers have yet an additional reason to value kelp. Since it is so strong, we can hold onto it if we need to during our safety stop (3 minutes at 5 metre depth).
There will be more on kelp here in the future. Wait till you find out how bull kelp reproduces!
But for now, come underwater with me. Come into the forest, breath in, breath out and worship the kelp!
Click this link for the short videos and images of bull kelp from the fronds down to the holdfast.
