The Carey Adventures

A funny thing happens when a flashlight is aimed at the waters of the Pacific Ocean off Hawaii’s Big Island.  Lights at night attract plankton. Plankton attracts mantra rays.  And manta rays attract divers from all over the globe to visit Hawaii’s Kona Coast for a spectacular dive well suited to any skill level.  From the destination bubbler fresh off their certification dives, to seasoned pros with years of experience, a night dive with these graceful aqua-acrobats can be a life changing event.

Google “Manta Ray Dive” and the majority of the links on the first page point to the Kona Coast of Hawaii.  While manta rays are found throughout the tropical regions of the world’s oceans, Hawaii’s waters are famous for their abundance and regularity of manta ray encounters.  Specifically, Garden Eel Cove on the North Kona Coast is a popular place for both the rays and those who wish to dive or snorkel with them.

My recent dive with manta rays was off a new custom built scuba boat owned by Kona Honu Divers.  If you did in fact search for “manta ray dive” on any of the top search engines you’ll find them listed first.  They are a great company to deal with and dive with.  The equipment was good quality and both Jack and Frank on the dive boat were personable, intelligent and fun.  They are people passionate about what they do and love taking others to the depths as good dive masters should.  Plus it was fun having Frank’s Mom on the trip to make him blush.

Prior to entering the water with rays measuring up to fourteen feet across, divers and snorkelers are given a safety talk.  And the safety is for the rays, not so much the humans.  The most important point; never touch the rays as they secrete a mucus to protect themselves from marine infections.  Touching a manta ray will remove this protection and could harm them.

After being handed underwater lights, our group of divers enters the water one at a time.  While I wait for the rest of the group to enter I can already spy at least five rays swimming nearby as I bob on the surface under the night sky.  Attracting this nightly feeding ritual is relatively simple: Scuba divers sit on the bottom in about 30 feet (10m) of ocean pointing their dive lights straight up.  Snorkelers hover on the surface and point their lights straight down.  A basket of lights is placed in the center of a rock ring, known as the ‘campfire’, and the divers situate themselves in comfortable seated positions making sure not to squish any sea anemones.  All this light, pointing up and down, draws in copious amounts of plankton and the mantra rays that feed on them.

And there we sit.  For a 40 minute timed dive we are given a show by ten mantra rays out for a late night dinner.  To say the manta rays ‘fly’ through the water would be misleading.  Never before have I seen such grace from any bird in the air.  The rays glide as if they are flying but when they perform slow, calculated loops over the campfire, I found myself awestruck by their agility and accuracy.  Once or twice I’d see a pair nearly collide as they both went for what I’m sure is a particularly tasty swallow of plankton.  Other than those times, the rays would come within an inch of rocks, divers, lights and pull away without contact.

The only sound under the waves is the activation of my breathing regulator and gargle of bubbles heading to the surface.  The rays contribute no sound.  It’s an odd experience for the senses.  I can’t touch anything except the bottom of the ocean.  I can’t taste anything other than the dull rubber of my mouth piece.  Smell?  Forget about it.

All that is left is sight.  One sense to take in the spectacle.  And yet, I feel I experienced their dance with more than my eyes.  While I didn’t get a chance to actually swim with the rays, the combination of being nearly weightless and confined to only one sense opened me to their slow, sensual and purpose filled movements.  Mesmerizing.  Confined to one sense I realize just how out of place I am and how perfectly suited these graceful creatures are to the under water world.  I am given a glimpse of how in-tune animals can be with their environment.  How effortless movement can be when I work with what I have instead of against it.

The experience of diving with manta rays will stay with me the rest of my days, this I know.  When times seem hard and it feels like I’m struggling with decisions, I mentally return to the clear Kona waters and remember the manta ray’s dance.  How can I move through life more fluidly, serenely.  How can I live life with the same grace as a manta ray?