At Planet Rock on Saturday, the Trevally were mobbing all around. The one that we often see in large groups is the Bigeye Trevally (Caranx sexfasciatus).

Here is a small group of Bigeyes:

One thing that I enjoy about the Bigeyes is that you can get very close to them with no worry that they will scatter. They seem not to mind:

Another kind of Trevally, the Bluefin Trevally (Caranx melampygus), is quite another fish entirely for the photographer. They love to dart around divers. They seem curious, but are probably simply hoping that these odd creatures will somehow produce a feed. They are nearly impossible to capture through the lens. This was a snap-shot:

The composition is not what I’d normally like, but it does convey the sense that they are constantly on the move.

Here’s another shot of the Bigeye Trevally: 

The image above is one of a series that I have produced of 40 x 80 cm (16 x 32 inch) numbered prints using Epson archival paper and inks.* There are only four prints of each image. Each is numbered and signed by me. I’m selling them for K300 each. As with all original numbered series art, there will be no more of these produced in the same format once the series is sold out:

Next week, I’ll post a gallery of the entire series. Anyone interested in purchasing one of these prints can contact me by email.

*The thumbnail links to an image that is purposefully degraded so that it can’t be printed large without looking terrible. I do this to protect those who have purchase prints from me. The originals are full of rich detail.

At Planet Rock yesterday the water was full of particulate matter and not much fun for taking pictures. Therefore, we had to do everything up close.

I did manage one nice Big-Eyed Trevally shot at a distance of about one metre, but I had to clean up many specks to make it usable:

There’s even a Bluefin Trevally at the bottom of the frame.

One thing that I love to do at Planet Rock at the end of a dive, when we’re just using up our air, is to turn over some small rocks to expose the organisms on the undersides and watch the feeding frenzy of fish coming in to gobble up the tender morsels that are usually inaccessible to them. It must be like a trip to the ice cream shop:

I count six different species (some partially obscured) feeding in an area the size of a large beach ball.

We spotted this small moray eel in a crevice:

Anthea are difficult to photograph. They are small. They move constantly. They run away from you. They are just generally uncooperative. This is one of the best Anthea shots that I’ve yet managed:

The larger one with the purple is the male. He’s guarding his harem.

The Checkerboard Wrasse is, I think, one of the prettiest fish in the local waters. This is the best shot I’ve gotten of one:

I got it by the “Turn the Rocks Over and Wait” method.

Here’s another wrasse, the name of which escapes me at the moment. It’s rare to capture a photo of a fish actually feeding. I’ve seen it many times, but it happens so quickly that you can never get a picture.

This wrasse is just about to grab a tidbit from a small stone that I’ve just flipped over:

Water clarity is wildly variable here, because we have so many huge tropical rivers dumping sediment and stuff you don’t even want to think about into Astrolabe Bay. However, if you can get close enough great shots are still possible.

It helps to learn to hold your breath for a few minutes and think like a fish.