Well, manta rays aren’t really monsters in the sense of possessing an ability to do harm. Rather, it’s their size, up to a twenty-three foot wingspan, that makes them monstrous. So maybe it’s more appropriate to title this piece, “Swimming with Giants.” Nonetheless, I did enter the water with these creatures, and at night at that.
When I made my reservation for a Backroads trip to the big island of Hawaii, it was casually mentioned that if I was going to be in the area before or after that adventure, I should look into night snorkeling with manta rays. They even provided a link to a preferred excursion company. So I jumped, like I tend to do when someone offers a swell idea, and signed up to do it on the night my Backroads trip ended.
When I arrived at my appointed time of 9:00 PM, I was surprised to see that there were only six of us passengers. My surprise turned to shock when the boat pulled up. It was a double-hulled canoe—two fiberglass deep-welled canoes that could each seat four passengers, connected by a platform. Our guide paddled up next to the dock and we took turns stepping into the canoes. We were then given paddles and instructions on rowing, a wetsuit top, goggles, and a snorkel. Then we all rowed our craft to an area in the bay that was prowled by the resident manta rays.
When we reached that location, the guide turned on blue lights that dangled in the water. This attracted plankton which we could see as sparkling particles suspended in the water. This concentration of plankton in turn attracted the rays. Each of us geared up and prepared to enter the ocean. Only, we could see a few of the giant manta rays already at our boat. It took all the courage I could muster to jump into that black water with monsters. At night.
We held onto one of two bars attached to the front and the rear of the boat and looked down with our masks and snorkels in place. Soon, more and more of the rays came, until I counted ten individuals.
I have watched other species of rays in the ocean before when I was snorkeling, and their movements are graceful and fluid, seeming to fly through the water. It was the same here, except with the added gymnastic maneuver of turning flips in wide circles, in order to capture as much plankton as they could through their gaping maws. Over and over they swam toward us, majestically turning just before reaching us. They were REALLY close. One even brushed my shoulder!
My fellow passengers and I squealed with fear which eventually turned to delight as the manta rays swarmed around us, hungrily gulping up the tiny particles of plankton. They are not dangerous. They do not have stingers on the tips of their tails. Their only food source is plankton. Even knowing that, it was terrifying to have one of these creatures fly toward me with its giant hole of a mouth—an opening so large that my head and shoulders could easily fit within it.
What an adventure. To be so close to these awesome animals was amazing. And to experience this with only five other people—and not the hordes on the other boats that I saw in the bay—was something I will never forget. No life lesson learned, just utter awe and amazement and gratitude for the magnificence of creation.