Midway - Island of Life
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Visibility in the lagoon water was a decent 15m but still I couldn't see it. "I can't see anything" I yelled, lifting my head above the water. As the small fishing boat accelerated I could feel the strain on my left arm as I struggled to hold onto the rope that had now become my life-line. Then something caught my eye away to my right. Could that be it? "Over there... to the right" I gulped as I jabbed my Nikonos as a pointer in the air. Closer, closer and suddenly it became clear - the unmistakable grey stripes of the world's apex, tropical water, predator: the tiger shark. By now my arm was killing me but I couldn't pass up what might be a once in a life time photo opportunity. As we approached to within 20 feet, adrenaline surged through my body. Part fear, part awe, I marvelled at its size. Having dived for years with most other sharks, this was in a totally different league. I estimated its length at a good 12-14ft but it was its girth, at some 4ft that was most impressive. Swimming in front and slightly to the right of me, it appeared to be using minimal effort to stay ahead of the boat. Despite the acceleration I could feel from our boat, 15ft appeared to be the minimum distance that the shark was willing to tolerate. Or so I thought. Just as I was about to tell the skipper to slow down to enable me to get out of the water, the shark suddenly turned 180 degrees and headed straight for me. Eyeballs bulging, I froze - this wasn't meant to happen. But the shark had no interest in me. With a sweep of its tail fin it passed within touching distance below me and vanished off into the blue. Hyperventilating, I pulled myself back onto the boat. "Killer photo opportunity... did you get the close-up?". My Nikonos hung limply from the strap around my right hand. I'd completely forgotten about my camera. I had come to Midway Island, at the end of the Hawaiian island chain, with two main objectives: to dive and photograph tiger and galapagos sharks; and topside, to photograph the large numbers of incredibly approachable sea birds that inhabit Midway. Chief amongst these is the laysan albatross. Each year approximately three quarters of the world's population of these majestic creatures descend on Midway to breed. Mating takes place in January and February and the chicks hatch in March or April. But they do not begin to fly until July or August. During the intervening period the ground is littered with birds. There are so many that you have to watch where you step and whenever a plane lands on the island, hundreds of birds have to be removed from the runway. When the fully fledged albatross chicks begin to try and fly, they are not always successful. A crash landing on dry land usually ends with no more than a few rumpled feathers, but if it happens over water, the consequences can be far more severe. Once the chick's feathers become waterlogged, flying is almost impossible and a watery death often culminates in the roaring surf that pounds much of the outer reefs. But some of the birds succumb to an even more gruesome ending. Every year from late June to mid-August, tiger sharks congregate at Midway in search of their version of fast food. This makes Midway one of the few places that you are pretty much guaranteed to see tiger sharks; if not under the water, then at least on the surface. On my two week stay, I was seeing the tigers from our dive boat on average every third day. They are more elusive underwater and I only caught a fleeting glimpse of one which is why I resorted to hanging out with the sport fishers in Midway's vast lagoon. The bait put out to attract other sport fish was a magnet to the Tiger sharks. Once sighted, being towed alongside the boat proved the best way to get close to the sharks. Strange as it may seem though, the tiger sharks weren't the prime underwater attraction. Nor were the few sightings of critically endangered Hawaiian monk seals, or the resident school of spinner dolphins, the numerous green sea turtles, the giant amber jacks and Hawaiian groupers. Nor was it the few discovered WW2 plane wrecks from the Battle of Midway (the main Japanese fleet was sunk in much deeper water). No, it was the galapagos sharks that did it for me. Midway has only been open to the public since 1997. As such, no proper underwater survey has ever been undertaken. Most of the dive sights are on the southern side of the island, being protected from the swells that are generated from storm systems far to the north. But while I was there, the northern side was calm enough to dive on several occasions. The dives we did on this side were all exploratory ones. I realised that a bit of excitement was in order when several fins began to break the surface before we'd even got into the water on our first such dive. Two of the more exuberant Hawaiian divers that I was with began slapping the water with their fins as we kitted up. Within a minute there must have been at least 20 sharks around the boat. Not surprisingly, when it came to deciding who would be first in, there were no takers. It was left to one of our Hawaiian fin slappers to make the first move. After a minute of watching his bubbles without an accompanying cloud of red, the rest of us gingerly took the plunge. The sharks in fact had begun to lose interest and by the time we had reached the bottom at 25m, there were only a few long range stragglers left. The next ten minutes passed uneventfully - two turtles, a big school of convict surgeon fish and a beautiful dragon moray, a variety not seen in Asia. I was vaguely aware that someone had started off with their tank banger but I was too busy concentrating on a pair of rare Japanese masked angel fish (US$5,000 in the Japanese aquarium trade). After a while I looked up to find that I was alone. Slightly perturbed, I peered through the gathering gloom (it was late afternoon) in an effort to find my dive group. But instead of divers I began to make out other, familiar shapes, high on my left hand side. At first they were too far off to see them clearly, but steadily they came closer. In my twelve years of diving I had never seen sharks in such prodigious numbers. Ten, twenty, forty, fifty. Unlike the pictures you see from the likes of Bikini Atoll, there was nothing haphazard or erratic in their grouping. These sharks were swimming slowly in near perfect formation. A close analogy would be to imagine the waves of bombers that the English must have looked up to have seen when the Luftwaffe descended on London. This scene was encountered four or five more times. No matter where we dived on the northern side, the sharks were always there. Yet strangely, on the southern side, we rarely saw more than three of four. No-one had a good explanation for this. On most days I did 2-3 dives (there are no night dives offered, as this is prime feeding time for the tigers). Between dives I roamed the island on bike - it takes about an hour to do a full circle - stopping for long periods to photograph the bird life. I spent many hours with a female white tern and her newly hatched chick. The mother would leave the chick and return every 2-3 hours with a beak full of fish to feed her youngster. Most of these fish were the length of the chick's own body yet every time she managed to put away at least three or four of these. In a 24 hour period I estimated that the chick must have swallowed at least 15 fish. Suffice to say, the chick was significantly bigger when I left the island. Midway is a magical place. As an underwater/topside wildlife photography destination, I rate it on par with the Galapagos Islands. Accommodation is in a converted army barracks which has been split into approximately 50 extremely comfortable rooms. The wildlife on the island is heavily protected by the US Fish and Wildlife Department and large sections of the island's beaches as well as the whole of neighbouring Sand Island are off limits mainly to protect the Hawaiian monk seals which beach themselves on the shores for long periods. Guest numbers are restricted to 100. Midway is reached by weekly flights from Honolulu (3 hours). Sadly, at the time of writing, the island has been closed to the public. The resort operator has been forced to pull out for financial reasons. It is hoped that a new operator can be found. It will be sad if this does not eventuate. If it re-opens, a return trip beckons; if not, then I will always cherish those two amazing weeks on Midway, the Island of Life. Paul McKenzie |