Now we're on the first night dive. A "Giant Crab" Mithrax (?) related to northern Spider Crabs.Mr Crab again.Yellow Stingray Urolophus jamaicensisA sleeping Stoplight Parrotfish Sparisoma virideSlipper Lobster Scyllarides nodifer or Sculptured Slipper Lobster Parribacus antarcticus
No claws, no spines, no teeth, no camouflage.
No fangs, no barbs, no bristles, no poison.
No strength, no speed, no brains.
You really have to wonder how they survive.
Common Atlantic Octopus Octopus vulgarisObviously not pleased to see me.I found this one on my own and didn't share it with anyone, which is probably why I was able to get some decent pictures.
Punta Sur. Going into the hole.Coming out of the hole. I still don't understand why people dive in holes.Mostly French Grunts Haemulon flavolineatumAnother crab, oddly out in the open during the day.French Angelfish. I think these are the most majestic of the Angelfishes. Not as gaudy as the Queens, and a lot bigger.Stoplight Parrotfish ( female ). Males are bluish, like Queen ParrotfishQueen Triggerfish Balistes vetula. Headin' for the hills - I'm surprised I got this close. ( Photo is cropped - you can guess the range from the colors. )Blue Tang Acanthurus coeruleus and Squirrelfish Holocentrus adscensionisAlmost (Queen Angelfish)
Nighttime again. Sharptail Eel Myrichthys acuminatusAnother sleeping Stoplight Parrotfish, the terminal male phase. The bright yellow dot at the upper end of the gill slit is a giveaway.This little Yellow Stingray was happily digging a hole after something in the sand, and didn't mind having his picture taken at all.
The Pauline Marie sinks slowly on the Atlantic City Reef.
By Evelyn DeWitt Myatt & Bill Figley, 1986
It's hard to imagine anything that could have looked more forlorn than the rusty old freighter whose proud seagoing days were a thing of the past. Floating idly at her berth awaiting her fate, she was a victim of nature's ravages that had left her beautiful only in the eyes of her old captain and crew. The Pauline Marie, however, was not destined to be the victim of a cutting torch that would turn her into a tangle of scrap steel. Instead, she was acquired by the New Jersey Artificial Reef Program and went down with dignity as an artificial reef in March 1985. She now provides continuing services from her watery grave in the Atlantic, some twelve miles off Atlantic City, and her appeal to marine life is undeniable. Her interior compartments now shelter fish and crustaceans; her decks now provide substrate for mussels, soft corals, and plant life; and her newfound productivity has put delicious seafood on many tables.