A lot of dive magazines and web sites describe the Kona manta dive/snorkel as one of the best in the world. About a dozen outfits in Kona offer this boat dive, and all seem pretty similar. Last week Marla and I joined our friends Peter and Edna, along with their mainland relatives, for the version of the dive offered by Jack’s Diving Locker*. We left Kona’s Honokohau Harbor on Jack’s 46-ft boat, carrying about fifteen divers and snorkelers, at around 4:00 PM and motored eight miles north to a spot called Garden Eel Cove (also called Manta Heaven), just off the Kona airport. There were already a couple of other boats there when we tied up to one of a handful of moorings—this one in about 35 feet of water. We suited up for an afternoon dive prior to the arrival of nightfall and the mantas. (Most boats arrive somewhat later, skipping the pre-manta dive.) The afternoon dive was quite nice, the highlight being a close approach to a large group of garden eels at about seventy foot depth. These small eels stay partially buried in the sandy bottom, their heads and upper bodies protruding upward, swaying in the water column like grass in the wind. If you approach too close they instantly disappear into the sand. On this particular dive we were able to get quite close—maybe six feet or so. Unfortunately, my little Olympus underwater camera is only rated for forty feet, and it wouldn’t take photos at seventy feet. To its credit, it didn’t flood, and it resumed functioning when I got back up to 35 feet.
After the first dive we spent about 45 minutes on the boat, having the not-bad sandwiches, snacks, and drinks provided by Jack’s and waiting for darkness. Back in the water, we descended to the bottom where a battery of lights, kind of like car headlights, were permanently installed pointing upward into the water column. The idea is that lights attract the zooplankton (or for you New Yorker readers, zoöplankton) that the mantas like to eat. This has been going on here for a couple of decades now, and the mantas have learned that this is a good spot for dining. Since they are wild animals, the mantas’ presence is voluntary, and they don’t show up every night. But on most nights there are at least a handful of these monsters—ranging from 8 to 14 feet across**—at the site. Sometimes more than two dozen show up. By identifying individuals based on their markings and other distinguishing features, researchers and dive operators have established that many of the mantas are regular visitors.
Anyway, divers from the numerous boats either sit, kneel, or lie on the bottom holding dive lights pointed upward. Snorkelers stay on the surface, holding onto group floatation devices, shining their lights downward. This leaves the entire water column open for the mantas. Two mantas showed up almost before we reached the bottom. Four more soon followed. We spent the next forty minutes watching the six mantas scoop up the plankton in their cavernous mouths. Slowly, calmly, and surprisingly gracefully, they swooped, somersaulted, and pirouetted through the light beams full of plankton. Over and over, the mantas glided within inches of us, sometimes even brushing up against us, drawn by the dense plankton concentrations in the beams of our dive lights. This allowed great views of their placid, cow-ish eyes, as well as their awesome maws and gill openings. One of the smaller mantas—only about eight feet across—repeatedly brushed, and on one occasion bumped Marla. We decided it must have, like me, found her very attractive.
This was not the first time we’ve been on one of these magical trips, and it won’t be the last. It’s about as close as you’re going to get to a 500-pound (my conservative estimate) wild animal on the animal’s own terms. You should try it.
One of the big fellows passing close to Marla. The pattern of dark spots on the belly allows fairly easy identification of individuals.
All the bright lights give the experience a surreal look. There are a lot of other interesting fish besides the mantas. Those are flagtails in the background at the top of the photo; at lower right is a bluestripe snapper.
*The people at Jack’s provided great service, and are highly recommended. I’ve also done this with Big Island Divers, also recommended.
**There are two species of manta ray. These are the smaller coastal manta species. The other species, pelagic mantas, are even larger—up to 23 feet.
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