When I initially made arrangements to work with PICRC, I had
signed on to help out with a variety of research projects, but focus on fieldwork
like monitoring protected areas. By the time I arrived, my coordinator had left
the island and her replacement informed me that they had finished diving for
the season. I’ll be able to join visiting researchers with their work in the
upcoming months, and the typhoon damage might require additional assessments,
but for now I’m working on socioeconomic surveys, data entry, and writing up
reports, and I’m scouting out my own opportunities for research diving (and
some fun diving, of course).
There’s a pair of researchers operating out of one of the
dive shops (Sam’s) studying fish aggregations and spawning. At certain points
in the lunar cycle, particular species of fish come together for mass spawning
events, and Palau is one of the few places where there are enough remaining
large fish for spectacular spawning sightings. Studying when and where these
aggregations occur is important for designing conservation policies because
when fish densely pack together, the entire
population could be scooped up by a single fishing trip (this is how we
obliterated orange roughy). This raises possibilities for looking at temporal
rather than spatial protection: perhaps limiting fishing of species just for
the days around their spawning events, and allowing it for the rest of the
month.
Last week, the days preceding the full moon meant snapper
aggregation, so Johanna, Katherine and I joined a spawning expedition. Richard,
the researcher leading the dive, picked us up at 4:30am, and we headed out to
the aggregation site. As the sun began to peek over the horizon, we jumped in
and immediately dropped to 100 feet. The snapper spawn at the height of
outgoing tide so the gametes will disperse in the open ocean, so we had to swim
hard to avoid being swept out by the current. We followed droves of snapper
that were pouring from what seemed like all directions to the aggregation: a
swirling mass of thousands and thousands of huge fish. I had never seen
anything remotely like this before—it was absolutely crazy. Abruptly, a female
lit up with red streaks and darted upward away from the group, trailed by a
swarm of males; the chase ended in a cloud of gametes. This happened several
more times as we gazed, awestruck, kicking against the current, while the
occasional shark cut below us (unfortunately I missed the rare bull shark
sighting). All too soon we had to return to the surface, everyone on the boat
yelping with excitement.
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Snappers begin to aggregate |
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SO MANY FISH |
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Males streak toward a spawning female; the cloud of gametes is visible to the left of the clump. |
The current was getting too strong and the seas too rough to
jump in again at the aggregation, so we did another dive at a site called
Sandbar to check out the resident leaf fish and a huge school of bigeyes. Back
at Sam’s, Johanna, Katherine, and I, reluctant to return to the office and
noting that it was early yet, grabbed tanks and explored the wall off the
docks. Definitely a day I’ll remember forever! I’m hoping I’ll get to tag along
for bumphead parrotfish spawning near the new moon, and maybe see a bull shark
for the next round of snapper.
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Leaf fish at Sandbar |
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Katherine checks out tiny juvenile fish. |
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Excellent demonstration of fish jaw opening/filter feeding mechanisms! |
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Giant clam |
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