DIVELOG JUNE 406

I allow maybe twenty minutes at the end of most dives to explore these shallows. It's often every bit as exciting as time spent in close proximity to so many friendly sharks. I swim past one rocky outcrop at the end of a two hour dive, catching a quick flash of a wrasse with eight suckered arms splaying from its mouth. A blue lined octopus seems plastered to the fish's face, its head wedged between the fish's teeth. I wonder whether the wrasse might die from choking on the occy, or fall victim to its infamous venom? The fish appears panicked.

PT's first glimpse of the wrasse with the blue ringed octopus. Photo Credit PT HIRSCHFIELD

I've photographed endless blue rings over the last fourteen years. Til now I had no clue they were eaten by wrasse. (Or had this fish made a mortal mistake?) I briefly wrestle with whether to switch my camera to video or take still images. I like entering photo competitions, so stick with stills. In seconds I adjust my strobes, shooting blindly beneath the kelp as the wrasse swims frantically towards my camera. Unable to swallow or eject the octopus, it swims past me, to the other side of the rocky outcrop. The fish starts slamming the blue ring repeatedly against the rock, trying to force it deeper into its mouth. (Instant regret for choosing still images over video!) The fish's strategy works. I spy blue rings deep inside the wrasse's mouth before the doomed cephalopod disappears down its gullet. During the action, I've fired off ten images of the frenetic fish and its unexpected prey. Capturing the behaviour in the heat of the moment supercedes all notions of image composition and aesthetics. The best image of the messy set - the fish looking directly into the camera - is filled with creepy shadows, reminding me of a horror film (Frankenstein maybe?) By some miracle, the terrified fish's eyes are both visible, one just barely through a thick strap of kelp. Tangles of kelp mirror the motley arms of the dying blue ring, splaying from the wrasse's mouth. It's an intimate behaviour shot, more journalistic than pretty picture. It's the compelling ugliness of predation, the nightmare scene you can't turn away from. I get home from the dive and search the internet. I find only one distant shot of a wrasse eating a blue ring, now suspecting I've captured something in a way no-one has ever done before. I share the unedited images with two regular dive buddies. Over the days that follow I ask local divers if they've ever seen this behaviour before. The most experienced look at me wide-eyed, barely believing what I claim to have witnessed.

Image 3 of the frantic photo series. Photo Credit PT HIRSCHFIELD

I rarely enter my images into any competitions other than Ocean Art, where I've typically won and placed in my categories (usually Compact Behaviour) each year I’ve entered. Knowing this photo's extreme rarity, I back myself and enter the best photo from the series into several contests, including and beyond Ocean Art. The entry fees are substantial, but just maybe a decent prize will justify my faith in this image. Nothing. No wins, no places. Not even commended. I can't fathom why. Yes the image is ‘aesthetically challenging’. But it’s a ‘once in a lifetime shot’, likely the best natural behaviour shot I’ll ever capture. Discouraged, I contemplate curling under a rock and giving up underwater photography altogether. I have never once seen a blue ringed octopus photo place or win in an underwater photo competition. I always

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DIVE LOG Australasia #406 - June ‘24