Diving the Poor Knights

By Steve Hathaway

There is nothing like diving in beautiful blue water with loads of fish. And from late summer onwards, this scenario is something that I normally expect when Scuba Diving the offshore islands in Northland – even right on the coast it’s not uncommon to have visibility greater than 12 metres. But this summer has been an unusual one for Scuba Diving. After my early predictions of fantastic visibility following the unseasonably early arrival of warm water in late November, it has ended up being a real mixed bag for me. Apart from some stunning dives at the Hen and Chicken Islands, it seems that I’ve been chasing rainbows when it comes to good visibility! True to form, there were times I heard of epic visibility at different offshore islands, but by the time I had pulled a crew together, promising them diving nirvana – and involving, of course, my customary loss of a good night’s sleep from the excited anticipation of diving in warm clear water – it was not to be.



On arrival, more often than not we were met with a different reality than what I had been dreaming about! Northland had a great summer with not many wet days, but when it rained it really poured, with January providing record rainfalls in some areas (Whangarei had 211mm in just one day!). It seems the affect of such huge rainfalls is still having a significant influence on parts of the northern coastline. Another unusual occurrence this season concerns the plagues of small jellyfish. They have literally made their presence felt up and down the coast, stinging many divers and snorkelers So, with this in mind, it did not surprise me at all when I headed out to the Poor Knights recently, after hearing reports of pristine clear water and amazing fish life, only to be welcomed by 10m vis and thousands of jellyfish on the surface at our first stop!

To add insult to injury, I was told later that there had been no jellyfish at all the day before. Arghhhh! This trip had been planned for months, and normally in late March the vis would be epic here, with 30m being common, but thankfully this crew was not one to be discouraged easily, so we had a quick scout around to find a location with fewer jellyfish.

If the conditions allow, there is one place that I just can’t resist visiting when out at the Knights; it has to be one of the most consistently spectacular dives you can have in New Zealand when it comes to seeing masses of fish on a regular basis. It’s called Northern Arch, a very narrow archway that from the surface doesn’t look much at all, and if you blinked when driving past in a boat, you wouldn’t even notice it, as it blends in with the sheer cliffs that surround this island paradise. However, once in the water you get to appreciate what a special diving location it is, with almost every centimetre of the arch’s walls covered in amazing colours and life as they cascade down into the depths.

And it is deep, reaching 40m in the middle of the arch. But for me it’s not the life on the walls that make it so special, even though they are stunning to look at. It’s the teeming schools of fish that catch your eyes as you look toward the depths, and this day, despite some jellyfish and the low visibility, was a very ‘fishy’ day, with masses of fish – layer upon layer – descending into the depths. As we entered the water, a school of blue maomao with a few large trevally mixed in swam around us, feeding on the surface just outside the arch. Now I know blue maomao are common up north, but how could you ever get sick of seeing these bright-blue fish swarming around you? When the entrance came into view, Even on a bad day it’s brilliant! There are plenty of amazing arches to scuba dive at the Knights.

A large school of snapper could be seen hugging the wall, with some XL specimens lurking in the shadows and using a school of demoiselles as cover. These snapper were not scared of us at all – not like the ones I’m used to seeing outside marine reserves – and even with noisy scuba bubbles, they didn’t seem to be worried. They obviously know they’re protected here and are used to divers visiting their home. In the middle of the arch was a school of nice-sized trevally milling around, with a couple of massive ones mixed in. Like all the other fish in the arch, they were totally relaxed about our presence and swam calmly nearby.

Down at about 15m, an undercut on the rock face causes the arch to widen, and this overhang is a favourite place for pink maomao and trevally. Today was no different, with large schools of these fish looking very relaxed while facing into the slight current – and, nearby, another large school of blue maomao milled around on the opposite side of the arch. The arch was almost totally full of fish, and it was a wonderful spectacle to see. If only snorkelling on the surface and looking down into this deep chasm, it is hard to comprehend the amount of fish that can pack into this little body of water. But hanging below the schools of fish while on scuba, you quickly begin to appreciate the scale of the fish numbers, with thousands upon thousands of silhouetted bodies appearing to almost block out the rays of light from above.

The highlight of this dive was something that I found quite surprising. As I came out of the shaded area of the arch into the light at the northern side, I could see a small group of about 15 trevally and snapper gathered around something. This looked like very strange behaviour and not something I had seen before.

As I got closer I could see they were surrounding a jellyfish, all peering at it intensely for about 10 seconds. Then, all of a sudden, one of the snapper just swallowed the whole jellyfish down with one gulp, with the others now wanting to get into the action too, but being too slow off the mark. What the heck was happening? I have seen snapper eating different types of jelly substances before, but not this kind of stinger. I had already experienced their effect on my face a number of times that day, so know they are not something I would want to eat! Then it happened again: one fish would quickly race off toward a jellyfish in the distance, with the posse following behind, not wanting to be left out. They would then encircle it for a few seconds before one of them seemed to gain enough boldness to swallow it whole. It all seemed very strange to me, because there were lots of jellyfish here, but they seemed to be very selective about which ones they wanted to target. It wasn’t until I watched this happen a few more times that I saw the reason behind what was happening. The jellyfish they singled out always had a small fish of about 20mm hiding underneath them, and I don’t know why the aggressors waited so long to help themselves to this defenceless fish.

Was it because they knew there was a downside to eating this tasty morsel? Was it a case of the longer they looked at it, the more appetising it appeared, until one of them could no longer resist? Getting back on the boat afterwards, the crew were fizzing about the whole experience, with one of my regular dive mates saying it was definitely the best dive he’s ever had! Even if you are not into scuba diving or snorkelling, this place is somewhere that you have to put on your bucket list of truly worthwhile places to visit in New Zealand. The spectacular scenery above the water is worth the ticket price alone, and the underwater world here – well, that is in another class altogether.

Apparently Jacque Yves Cousteau said it was one of the best places to dive on earth, and he should know.

Courtesy of New Zealand Fishing News May 2011
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