The Azores–At Sea and Graciosa
Now is the youngest part of a new day, a day that has never happened before. You can tell it’s new because it’s tinted slightly pink. Early morning, a time when long shadows cower behind reality and even the smallest, most fluid objects seem crisp and sharp… like the tiny wind ripples on the waves just before they are cut by the bow of Endeavour. We are at sea in search of marine creatures, air breathing mammals, whales and dolphins. We are in three thousand feet of water where rich, deep waters of the North Atlantic sweep across the Azorean plateau making this a fertile field indeed. They are here, the air-breathing mammals, they are always here, well maybe not right here in front of the ship, but with a bit of luck and a lot of diligence, you’ll see something and we did—dolphins: squid-eating Risso’s and delightful short-beaked commons playing on our bow.
In the afternoon, we visited Graciosa Island, but I did not go ashore, as my world is now the sea, not the land. My dive buddy and I, Anders, Endeavour’s bartender, went to a small satellite island that sits on the edge of the abyss. We found a wall plunging down to about one hundred and fifty feet, which then sloped off to over a thousand feet, an interface between near shore and deep ocean, where small wrasses and large tuna can both be seen. The water was teaming with life and most things seemed a bit frantic as they struggled against the strong current. It is like a storm, the edge of a hurricane. Here is a movable feast where it is the food that moves and not the partygoers, as the tidal current constantly washes in fresh plankton for the animals and nutrients for the algae. One of the many creatures we encountered is pictured here, a grey triggerfish. Very curious, it moved like an exotic dancer, alternately sweeping its dorsal, then ventral fin. Strange this one, it’s all face, big eye and buckteeth. One of them tried to eat Anders yesterday, nipped him on the head. We kept a close watch on this one as we looked at everything else.
Now is the youngest part of a new day, a day that has never happened before. You can tell it’s new because it’s tinted slightly pink. Early morning, a time when long shadows cower behind reality and even the smallest, most fluid objects seem crisp and sharp… like the tiny wind ripples on the waves just before they are cut by the bow of Endeavour. We are at sea in search of marine creatures, air breathing mammals, whales and dolphins. We are in three thousand feet of water where rich, deep waters of the North Atlantic sweep across the Azorean plateau making this a fertile field indeed. They are here, the air-breathing mammals, they are always here, well maybe not right here in front of the ship, but with a bit of luck and a lot of diligence, you’ll see something and we did—dolphins: squid-eating Risso’s and delightful short-beaked commons playing on our bow.
In the afternoon, we visited Graciosa Island, but I did not go ashore, as my world is now the sea, not the land. My dive buddy and I, Anders, Endeavour’s bartender, went to a small satellite island that sits on the edge of the abyss. We found a wall plunging down to about one hundred and fifty feet, which then sloped off to over a thousand feet, an interface between near shore and deep ocean, where small wrasses and large tuna can both be seen. The water was teaming with life and most things seemed a bit frantic as they struggled against the strong current. It is like a storm, the edge of a hurricane. Here is a movable feast where it is the food that moves and not the partygoers, as the tidal current constantly washes in fresh plankton for the animals and nutrients for the algae. One of the many creatures we encountered is pictured here, a grey triggerfish. Very curious, it moved like an exotic dancer, alternately sweeping its dorsal, then ventral fin. Strange this one, it’s all face, big eye and buckteeth. One of them tried to eat Anders yesterday, nipped him on the head. We kept a close watch on this one as we looked at everything else.
