BIG ANIMAL DIVER
65 divErkeeping an eye on the desert landscape
for birds and reptiles.
Once on the other side, we don
wetsuits and scan the horizon for signs
of life on the open sea. Excitement builds.
Conditions can be rough here, but today
we are fortunate to have blue skies and
low winds, even up to 20 miles offshore.
Far out at sea, we’re looking for birds
as the first indicator of action below.
From late October to the end of
November baitballs of fish gather, in turn
attracting the marlin.
Our guides explain that the distance of
the birds to the surface is relative to the
depth of the fish. If they are flying high,
the fish are deeper; when they are just
above the surface, the fish will be just
beneath.It takes a while to spot any birds, but
then the shout goes out and we see
winged silhouettes on the horizon.
Melecio guns the engine to give pursuit.
With this kind of big-animal trip, you
have to be patient, but always ready.
We don masks and fins as the boat
charges across the water, and our
anticipation builds. As we get closer, we
find the birds just resting on the water
surface, next to a plank of sea-lions, with
no sign of the hunt.
We jump in anyway to enjoy the
company of the playful sea-lions, and for
a timely “bathroom break”.Among the lost underwater
abundance were the striped marlin,
which used to aggregate offshore,
attracting a fleet of sport fishermen.
In the past couple of years, the marlin
have been back, and a unique
opportunity to get in the water with this
stunning billfish is now available.
Our skipper, Melecio, is a fisherman
who turned his hand to tourism in these
lean years. In his lifetime he has seen
drastic change in the local waters, and
the effect that large-scale commercial
fishing can have.
He wears a worried expression as he
discusses the state of the sea here, and
talks proudly of his daughter, 10-year-
old Damaris Perla, who wants to be
a marine biologist and urges him to
protect sharks.
W
E ARE HEREto find striped, the
smallest species of marlin, but still
able to reach an impressive 3.5m long,
and 230kg of apex ocean predator. When
agitated, the distinctive stripes on these
fish change colour, turning from
charcoal to a vibrant shade of lavender.
Usually this is a solitary species,
individuals coming together only for
spawning, something that makes this
event all the more special.
Here we hope to find them in huge
numbers, aggregating to hunt on shoals
of sardines. With the action expected to
be fast and furious, we are leaving the
tanks behind and experiencing it as
streamlined snorkeller/freedivers.
Getting to the marlin is no piece of
cake, but enduring a little hardship
makes the reward all the sweeter.
We wake as the sun rises, and drive
into town for huevos rancherosat a small
street-side cafe.
Then it’s on to the harbour,
where we meet Melecio and
board our panga-style boat.
It’s sunny but chilly, and we
huddle up on the vessel as it skims across
the glassy bay. Thirty minutes later we
come to a sandbank and prepare for
a unique commute.
A truck-and-trailer operates
off the beach here, as a steady
stream of vessels queues up for
a ride across the sandbank.
It’s much quicker than
going the long way round,
and demands a little
passenger participation,
as we help to tie off the rope
and move all our weight to the
bow of the boat.
The whole thing is either
disconcertingly, or charmingly, ragtag,
depending on your perspective. I find
that it adds to the sense of adventure, and
enjoy bouncing along the sandy trail,
Within minutes, we’re called back on
board. The skipper has sighted more
birds a few hundred metres off.
This time there is no mistaking what
lies beneath: marlin are piercing the
surface as they hunt down their prey.W
E EAGERLY JUMPin to bear
witness. We find a baitball that has
been reduced to just a dozen individuals,
with several marlin taking turns to push
them to the surface before going in for an
attack. The marlin are ruthless, picking
off every last one of the fish, stunning
them with their bills before swallowing
them whole.
These last remaining sardines are
desperately seeking shelter in the open
ocean, and soon decide that we human
observers are their best bet!
They swim in close to our bodies as
the marlin lurk nearby, and, not
wishing to become an active part
of the hunt, we try to swim
away. But the baitfish are
stubbornly sticking to
their last remaining
lifeline, and we end
up having to bat
them away.
I’ll admit to
being a little
nervous at
moments like
these, but
throughout our
close encounters,
the marlin
proved to be
remarkably
intelligent and
agile predators,
able to turn on
a dime to avoid us
curious humans,
and generally timid
around other large beings
in the sea.
Speaking of large animals,
this year the aggregating marlin
have been joined in the hunt by sea-
lions. After usually seeing them in
colonies, it’s strange to see them so far
out at sea.
The differing temperaments of the
sea-lions and marlin are clearly
evidenced in their hunting strategies.
The sea-lions bring a joie de vivreto
every activity, and seem to rejoice in the
chase, often swooping in on the fish
without even bothering to lunge for
a bite. By my estimation, they succeed in
catching a fish about 10% of the time.
Meanwhile the marlin are efficient but
cautious, catching their prey on about
50% of forays, but cowed in the presence
of the sea-lions. When the sea-lion packs
catch up to and surround the bait, the☛