Sky Dancer dive report

In March 2001 Peter Hughes and underwater photographer Bill Gleason returned from a week of exploring the undersea world of the Galapagos archipelago. Here is Bill's account of one of the dives they made:

"The marine life in the Galapagos is undeniably spectacular, and designed by nature to frustrate the best efforts of any underwater photographer! The sea lions ZOOM in too close, and before you can focus your camera, they zoom off! Then they do the same thing, time and again. The hammerheads (of which we conservatively saw more than 500 during our week's stay) seem to know EXACTLY what type of camera and lens you are using, and stay just two to four feet outside the distance needed for a perfect shot!

By far the best technique for getting close to the hammerheads was to remain very close to the "reef" (volcanic dropoff), partially hidden by an outcrop. On several occasions (although you must be VERY patient) the hammerheads would just swim right at or over you. More frequently, the sharks would just swim by, moving into the current, and staying just OFF the dropoff. This called for a little swimming, and we used this technique...

As the hammerheads approach, DO NOT swim directly toward them (they will just move away). Instead, choose a path that is parallel to the sharks, and swim in the SAME direction. While swimming, use each kick to slowly move about one foot closer to the shark, and keep your body parallel to the sharks. Keep bubbles to a minimum, and NO quick movements of arms or legs. The less you appear to be interested in the hammerheads, the closer they seem to let you approach. At the right moment, slowly move your camera into position, and squeeze off a shot. You will usually only get one shot per encounter. But still bring plenty of film, because there are a LOT of encounters! 

Toward the end of our trip, we tried a different approach. Peter stayed close to the dropoff, and I moved out to the edge of visibility. Our idea was to see if the hammerheads would move away from me in the blue TOWARD Peter and the shallow water. After a minute or two, we did indeed see two individual hammerheads swim away from me toward the dropoff. HMMM, maybe this will work, we thought... 

Then I looked behind me, out in the blue, and there was a school of 40 or so hammerheads just out of camera range. So much for that idea, I thought, and began my parallel swim toward the school. Everything was proceeding nicely UNTIL I felt the GIANT SHADOW over my left shoulder, and then I knew something very special was about to happen. And I will be the first to admit that unknown giant shadows out in the blue while chasing hammerheads will cause your wetsuit to suddenly get very tight in the chest area. To relieve the tension of my beating heart, I TURNED TOWARD THE SHADOW...

A giant (50 or more) school of rays! From their shape, I first thought SPOTTED EAGLE RAYS. As I approached, however, I saw the distinctive horns that scream MANTA RAYS! But these magnificent creatures were too small to be the great manta (they were ONLY six to eight feet across), and they did not have any spots! And there is no such thing as a Spotted Manta Ray, anyway! 

This was a school of MOBULA RAYS, a frequent visitor to offshore eastern Pacific seamounts. Not quite as frequent a visitor to groups of divers, but you do have a good chance of seeing them on every Galapagos trip if you keep an eye out on the blue! They are often found in large schools, and are close enough cousins to the Giant Manta to confuse you! I slowly chased them into the sun, unable to get close or deep enough for the "perfect shot". No matter; it was still my first encounter with a school of Mobula Rays, and as impressive a ray encounter as I've ever had!

As they slowly swam out of sight, I also realized I was completely out of sight of the reef, surrounded by only blue water, and had no compass heading back to the dropoff. As I didn't have a compass, the lack of the heading bothered me the least! Looking down, I spotted a couple more hammerheads, cruising deep. Knowing they swim parallel to the seamounts, I just headed 90 degrees over their fins and two minutes later found the dropoff, and my buddy! I don't recommend this type of navigation to anyone, but it did work for me in this case! Fabulous diving!"