Night of the Mantas

For the first time since beginning this blog a few years ago I am using the work of another photographer. 

James Wing  is a renowned oceanographic photographer and videographer. It was my pleasure to meet him briefly aboard the Hula Kai, the boat used in the expedition below. Wing's work is extraordinary, and given the challenges of shooting this sort of adventure I asked -- and received -- permission to use his work here. All underwater images below are copyright 2012 James Wing, Mantaskona.com. 

(Thanks, Jim!)

Vacations...not just travel, but vacations...often give us the opportunity to escape the everyday world. That's kind the the purpose behind taking them, in fact. Escaping the everyday world.

And when that escape means traveling, it expands the opportunity by giving us a chance to do something new and unusual. During our recent trip to Maui -- introduced in my last blog entry -- the emphasis was, indeed, on getting out doing new things. And, as you might expect given the location, several of them had to do with water. Specifically, the ocean. Any reader of the blog knows I am a huge fan of oceans, never having lived more than a relatively short drive away from one and often finding myself surrounded by them while away from home. (The exceptions being work-related trips which, for some strange reason keep landing me in places like Phoenix, Philadelphia, and in one particularly bad August week, Jackson, Mississippi. But I digress...)

Long time friends and readers also will recall I'm a huge proponent of Phil Keoghan's NO OPPORTUNITY WASTED (NOW!) List for Life philosophy. If you're not familiar, think a more sophisticated and take-action form of Bucket List. Not just for wishing, Phil suggests you not only have a list, but you actively plan its execution. 

So finding ourselves planning a trip to Maui gave us a number of Life List opportunities. One such activity, as I discussed last time, was seeing the sun rise over Mount Haleakala, an absolutely stunning experience worthy of its reputation.

The two other activities of note involved communing with wildlife. Sea life, to be exact. As we were planning the details of the trip, my wife reminded me that one of her premiere NOW items was to swim with manta rays off the coast of the Big Island. Sensing an opportunity...pun intended...we looked into the possible options and happily noted that the location was right off the coast of the Sheraton Keauhou Bay, just south of Kona.

The view from the Sheraton

(I'm a member of Starwood Preferred Guests -- so this worked to our advantage. Since we had extra points in their program, and planned to stay at the Westin Kaanapali during our stay on Maui, this gave us some symmetry in hotel choices. We booked two nights in Keauhou, with a flight into Kona instead of straight to Maui as first intended.)

We arrived in the islands on a Thursday night and that evening went out onto the manta ray viewing platform at the Sheraton. Under previous ownership, the hotel had years ago begun turning on bright lights for their dinner guests to be able to dine under the stars but enjoy an ocean view at the same time. As often happens with man-made changes to the the rhythms of the natural world -- in this case illuminating the ocean during nighttime hours-- the lights had an impact on the environment, attracting billions of plankton from the dark waters if the Pacific. By chance, plankton are the favored food of mantas, and, well, nature being what it is, mantas began to be attracted to the coastal resort as well.

The Hula Kai and sister ship tie up

Flash forward a decade or so, and you've got something special.

Each night the resort turns in their lights, and a pair of "official" tour groups set sail from a nearby harbor to anchor just off the shoreline. Around 30 guests in total. A specially constructed boom of lights is lowered into the water, providing a convenient grip for the guest snorkelers which prevents anyone from drifting off and getting lost. Donning a wetsuit, each person gets into the waters and swims to the boom, finding a place and settling in. Within a few moments in our case, a cry went up soon after everyone was lined up. A palpable ripple of energy went down the line as we waited expectantly for the first manta to heave into view.

I'll pause for a second to describe the setup. 

copyright James Wing, 2012

You're floating, face down, hands tightly gripping the pad on the boom. Lights from the boat illuminate the sea floor some thirty feet down, and you've got other snorkelers to each side of you. Well below a professional diver/videographer records the scene. When you see him shift, pointing his camera and lights to the side, a thrill runs through you unlike any I've experienced before. Something mixing a respectful awe with a sense of fear as to what is just outside your view.

copyright James Wing, 2012

Then we see it. The diver swims backward as a large black shape cuts across the bottom. The manta. It swims effortlessly forward with a gentle thrust of it's wings, executing a casual, almost lazy, arc upward and its pure white abdomen comes into view. The manta continues up on its curve, skimming just inches from the snorkelers. 

copyright James Wing, 2012

 Despite the fact our heads and ears are under water you hear the amazed exclamations of everyone around you, and it's almost impossible not to join in the chorus. It really is something breathtaking and near zen like in its beauty. The manta continues in what has now become a series of progressive arcs up, skimming the swimmers, and down again to the bottom. On the boat we were told that thus is the way the mantas feed on their microscopic food. But it takes a bit of courages as that massive wide-open maw comes at you so closely you can look down the manta's gullet. Is this what it's like to be a plankton, you wonder? Reassuringly there are no teeth gaping at you, and you begin to relax as the manta continues its lazy dance down the line. 

Moments later it is joined by another, and yet another. They take turns, gently gliding through our view, in a graceful ballet. Since we cannot see the plankton other than as a faint "mist" in the water, it seems as if they're simply flying blissfully through the dark ocean. 

Finally, a monster pulls into view. 

copyright James Wing, 2012

The diver turns his camera and lights on the massive newcomer -- we are told later this is "Big Bertha", the largest manta anyone has seen in these waters. And a giant she is. Her wingspan is reportedly fourteen feet, tip to tip. She dwarfs the diver below. But as she begins her own turns, scooping her meal just inches from our masks, she is a graceful and beautiful leviathan of the deep. Nervous giggles and expressions of amazement can be heard through the water as she moves down the line. 

The show goes on for more than half an hour, and there's a sense of loss when it finally ends. At some point, without warning, the appearances get longer and longer between, until, at last, you see the diver give the "all done", and slowly the tourists are herded back onto the boats for hot chocolate and soup. The swimmers are all exhausted after the time spent gripping the boom -- you don't realize how tightly until you try to climb back onto the boat. But each person excitedly describes what they saw, and how they saw it.

It's a moment in our lives very few of us will ever forget.

Me, to the right of the light (copyright James Wing, 2012

The night manta cruise is conducted by Fair Wind, and can be booked at
http://www.fair-wind.com/hula-kai/manta-dive-hawaii

More of James Wing and his team's work can be seen and purchased at
http://www.mantarayshawaii.com/ and
http://www.dolphindreams.com/


Read more about the challenges facing ocean life and what you can do to help at
http://www.oceanlifeline.org/

Get a copy of Phil Keoghan's NO OPPORTUNITY WASTED at
http://www.noopportunitywasted.com/