Top 10 Memorable Ocean Experiences of 2011: No. 06 – Big G in the Shadows

Big fish are rare nowadays. Even in the times of Arthur C. Clarke’s early ocean explorations, the big groupers were getting hit with unsporting (not to mention illegal) spear fishermen donning tanks and hunting these gentle giants out of existence. Every now and then I see a grouper that’s a couple of feet long and I get inordinately excited. It is sobering to think that 30-40 years ago these would not have been of much note.

For a big fish to survive now, it has to be canny and clever. It is literally survival of the fittest to ensure it doesn’t end up with a spear from the likes of Kalu Mahathaya and Ikkiya amidships. There is such a fish on a wreck in Colombo and a sighting of it is a rare treasure. I have seen him a few times, most memorably on a night dive (more to come on that later) but the majority of the handful of sightings had been from a great distance and for a fleeting moment.

The closest I got to him in 2011 was one day towards the latter of the season. It was one of my occasional dives with Colombo Divers, as PP was accompanying me and didn’t have the benefit of owning her own gear. We stuck behind the dive guide and the main group and as we rounded the stern of the ship, the guide turned back to me and excitedly gestured that she had seen something big. They peered down and then continued on as it was obvious as whatever they had seen was not there anymore. I couldn’t spot anything either in the bluish haze.

As we came up behind them I looked down and saw it. Obviously thinking that the divers had moved on, Big G stuck his head out of his hiding place and looked out. On spotting us, by this time I had PP’s hand in a firm grip and was pointing her attention downwards, the grouper immediately retreated back. Big G had apparently thought that the divers had moved on and decided to check if everything was clear providing us with a superb sighting. The one thing that stood out about this was the sense of scale. The overhang under which the grouper was hiding was one I was very familiar with so it was quite something to realize how big this fish was. One of the last giants of our waters. May Big G continue to dodge the spears and provide us with more thrilling sightings in the future.

Top 10 Memorable Ocean Experiences of 2011: No. 02 – Operation Rescue at Medhafaru

DJ and I had seen the net stretched taut on the crane like structure on the Medhafaru the last time we had dived and we knew it meant trouble. Sure enough on the next dive at the wreck, as Nish, Keerths, Daniel and I started our dive; the first thing I saw was an outline of a large fish, seemingly motionless next to the crane.

Swimming closer the silhouette resolved itself into a blue-line grouper that was hanging off the net by a loop that had effectively created a noose. You could see where it had tightened as the fish had fought, white flesh showing through the blue and green skin.

Initially it was hanging so still, swaying quietly in the surge that I thought it was dead but as I got right up next to it, its fins flapped and it tried to feebly get away. The nylon on the net was wrapped tight and taught against the fish. These groupers have a habit of lying in wait for prey and then shooting out at them and it looked like this fish had picked a very bad place to set an ambush, running right into the net. The net itself was knotted tight presumably by the fish twisting trying to get away from the encumberance.

It was strange to be quite so close to one of these fish as they are generally quite shy and only give you the briefest glimpse before hiding away in the shadows. Up close and personal the fish was quite magnificent, shimmering green and luminescent blue. The only thing that marred the picture was the bruised flesh around the net and the look of terror on the fish’s face. I never really thought that fish could look scared but the fear was palpable when looking at it.

I pulled out my knife and tried to figure out a way of cutting the grouper free without damaging it even more but the camera made things awkward. Calling Keerths over, I motioned for him to take the camera, tightening the lanyard around his wrist for safekeeping.

Things were still a bit tricky as I slipped the knife gently between the fish and the net strand, the fish’s body oddly pliant and fragile. The net tightened on the other side of the fish as a result and flesh and blood drifted off making me even more cautious. Every time I brought the knife up to cut the fish struggled and the water clouded with blood. After a couple of tried I started to wonder if it would be more merciful to kill the fish instead of putting him through the slow pain of a botched release.

I finally managed to slip the knife up towards the fish’s dorsal fin and gritted my teeth and pulled. With a snap the line parted and thankfully only a bit of blood was released. The fish hung motionless and free for a moment. Then in a moment it realized it was free and the body swung as the fins powered up and in a flurry of movement it was gone. A lucky survivor of the ghost nets that plagues our shipwrecks.