Diving the Tie Dye Arch at the Poor Knights
A photographer’s adventure
I have always had a goal to photograph stingrays stacked up along the walls of the archways for their annual courtship at the Poor Knights.
It’s taken 10 years to get to, due to weather or swell. But now with flat seas and little wind, the local dive operator has put me on one of the best dive sites at the Poor Knights, the Tie Dye Arch, named for its multicolored walls, at the Pinnacles.
I swam towards one of the three cathedral-like entrances with visibility about 20metres.
A large school of small kingfish rushed in for a look before rushing off again. Beneath me a lone male stingray made his way out of the arch, a good sign. Entering, and after allowing my eyes to adjust to the dark, I found to my disappointment the arch was not filled with stacks of stingrays, not one to be seen in fact. However my disappointment was soon forgotten as a huge school of Blue Maomao parted in a hurry as three of the largest kingfish I have ever seen glided through. These guys were massive, the type you usually see held up on the front of fishing magazines. Gliding in close they examined me. With their size I presented no threat, then they swam back around in a circle and made another pass through the terrified school of Blue Maomao and demoiselles cowering against the wall of the arch. I have never seen schools of fish so tightly packed together; they literally overlapped each other for protection.
I followed the path the kingfish had taken, waiting and tracking the lead kingfish as he pushed his way through the school of Maomao like a school bully with two followers close in his wake. I snapped off a few shots as they passed me, and glancing down at the camera’s LCD screen I could see the image of the kingfish shooting through the school of Maomao. Yes, I thought, I have the shot! It’s what I love about digital photography, capturing that special image and being able to see it instantly.
Happily I hung around, capturing the kingfish as they continued harassing the schools of fish.
Then I looked around to see what else was nearby. A large dark shape was gliding along the sea floor, flashes of its white underbelly showing - a very large stingray was passing beneath. Swimming down towards it I noticed the top of its body was scuffed with the bite marks signs that it had recently mated.
Positioning myself along its path I ducked low and angled my camera up towards the ray to take a photo to show it separate from the sea floor and with the arch behind it. The ray slowed, and hovered, just in the right position with the archway behind. It’s wing tip was only millimeters away, brushing my dome port as I fired off several shots, before it turned and swam off. Again, my LCD screen displayed a pleasing photo. I could not believe my luck. I followed the ray up to a ledge in shallower water where it met a large female bearing similar marks, and together they settled down to rest.
As I began my ascent towards the boat I looked behind, seeing flashes of silver as the kingfish came in and went, and thinking: How very special the Poor Knights are. If these fish were outside the reserve they would be the target of a fisherman’s lure, or spear. Here, they are free to be observed by the very lucky few who get to see them in their natural habitat.