Diver on a Hook

Bonnie Carini and her husband Ian specialize in guiding dives a few miles off the Kona Coast of Hawaii where ocean depths reach 16,000 feet and more. As a result of the single day I spent on their boat, I experienced 1 of the 2 dives I'd rate as "favorite" following 8 days diving Hawaii, Maui and Lanai. In part, this is a reflection of the passion and enthusiasm Bonnie has for introducing divers to blue water diving and the life forms that can be found there (the other part, of course, was the diving itself).

For the 1st of 2 dives, Bonnie takes us to a location on the southern Kona Coast. This is a warm up for the later trip offshore and gives her a chance to size up her 3 clients for the day. In return, we clients were treated to one of the dive sites not often visited by the day boats out of Kailua/Kona. On this 1st dive, we explored some strip reefs riddled with small caverns where we found lobsters, cleaner shrimp, and red striped pipefish.

With the first dive done, Ian used the surface interval to head offshore while Bonnie uses the time (plus 3 overstuffed photo albums and a tattered National Geographic) to give us a thorough orientation on what we might encounter on our next dive. What she concentrates on are the weird and wonderful life forms that have adapted to the weightless environment of the open ocean. She also advises us what to expect and how to respond if something much larger makes an appearance; her photo albums include pictures of pilot whales, oceanic whitetip sharks, dolphins, humpback whales, and a few game fish. Appearance by large pelagics are not uncommon but, as with all natural encounters, there's no knowing what you'll see on any specific dive. Given the barrenness of tropical waters, it's entirely possible we might not be lucky enough to find plankton.

Once we're in the general vicinity of our next dive, the remainder of the surface interval is spent enjoying a little lunch and being introduced to the equipment used to do a tethered drift dive. We'll have a float trailing the boat with a weighted downline. Clipped to the downline will be 30' tethers attached to each diver. The idea is to maintain a position in front of the downline until something of interest is spotted. This will give us a chance to inspect the item of interest until the downline passes, our tethers are taken up, and we're forced to move along. Simple but definitely not one of my typical dive plans.

When I first enter the water, it seems a lot like diving back home off northern California. At least the part about no bottom in sight seems normal. On descent, however, it's obvious I've never been here before. The water below stays the same shade of blue, there's no bottom coming up to meet you , and your only visual reference is a downline that can take a long moment or two to locate. Far above you is the surprisingly tiny hull of the boat and you realize visibility must be more than 200'. There's a not unpleasant touch of vertigo to contend with and your eyes struggle to find something to focus on. The vastness of the environment has you feeling much smaller than you're used to and you wonder if you'd be more uncomfortable were you just a little more intelligent.

After a few minutes, I remember advise from the orientation to shift focus to nearby objects. I try it and the specks passing by me are revealed to be small creatures. Unlike near shore diving, almost everything you see floating by is some kind of life form. I see tiny creatures with bioluminescence making them look like tiny sequins. When I try to backlight them with a flashlight, they retreat so quickly I can't even figure out how they're moving. There are clumps floating past and, on closer inspection, turn out to be the internal organs of transparent creatures. Some of these are easier to spot because they are chained together in strands inches to feet in length. Small tufts of fur turn out to be isolated clusters of diatoms. We're seeing pelagic gastropods, tunicates, phytoplankton, and the unfamiliar larval stages of common reef animals. In a seemingly infinite and dimensionless space, we're cross-eyed and busy focusing on the nearly microscopic.

Suddenly, I feel tugging on my tether and turn to see an agitated Bonnie hanging on the downline. All at the same time, she's getting our attention, waving us back to the downline, frantically pointing and looking down, and trying to find something that has her shook up and very excited. As we regroup, she's signaling to go up and asking if I saw it. Saw WHAT!? I'm looking all around as I'm finning for the surface and there's nothing, nothing, nothing... until, level with me just below the surface, I spot a Blue Marlin slowly circling behind us not more than 100' away. It's big (800 pounds) and it's not in any hurry to go away. For the next few minutes, I alternate between watching this magnificent creature and grinning at the other divers. I'm impressed by the presence of such a large animal, by its curiosity and confidence, and by how easily the vastness of its environment would hide that animal whenever you looked away for even an instant.

Later, Bonnie explained that she'd initially spotted a small marlin charging up at us from the depths. She wasn't bothered by its approach until a second, much larger companion appeared. Because of a general lack of experience with this type of encounter coupled with the reputation these fish have with sport fishing captains, Bonnie was uncomfortable with the situation and had us regroup at the surface to discuss alternatives. With 3 of us low on air, the dive was effectively over (but not the excitement).

During the trip back to the dock (and for nearly an hour afterward), Bonnie bounced from the excitement and anxiety of the marlin encounter to comparing notes with us about the planktonic life we saw. By the time she was finished, Bonnie had identified everything we could describe, explained it's known life cycle, and shown us pictures from her photo albums. It was only because of their own pressing appointment that Ian was finally able to get her to stop talking. It was a delight to experience Bonnie's unrestrained enthusiasm about Hawaiian diving and her desire to share the knowledge she's acquired. She is definitely not your typical resort dive guide.

Bonnie and Ian operate out of their home on Kealakekua as Ocean Drifters and can be contacted directly or through Eco-Adventures in Kailua/Kona. In addition to the 2-tank dive outing, they offer certification in their Blue Water Diving Distinctive Specialty course. I'll look forward to my next trip to the Big Island and, by then, hope they will have completed development of the next step in blue water diving: diving at night in 16,000' of water.

{norcadiver@sonic.net}