September 1, 2008 Yung Yip divingyung@gmail.com A serendipitous opportunity to explore a remote atoll combined with a first time visit to the fabled Eastern Fields of PNG
Eastern Fields is an atoll rising up from the depths of the Coral Sea, perennially wet, with only breakers marking its shoals. The Fields are situated 90 miles off the south coast of Papua New Guinea (PNG) with no land in sight. Its remoteness minimizes the potential for human impact; only one dive boat, the Golden Dawn frequent the Fields, and then only during monsoon shoulders when the seas are pacified by doldrums. Part of the reason Eastern Fields hasn’t percolated to the top of my list was my assumption that it is unencumbered from ravages of man, thus well preserved for future forage. Perhaps the other reason is that although the Fields are well off the beaten track, its has been visited and documented for two decades, therefore lacking that “As far as I know, no one I know has been there” aura, and the accompanying false sense of adventure that I so relish… So it was on a snowbound day over x’mas 2007 that I was perusing the internet (Internet Akbar!) when I strayed to the Golden Dawn website to contemplate a hypothetical itinerary. I like to play fantasy travel agent: pick a trip date, then research air, time, and cost options; it’s a multi-faceted game of optimization, and provides essential practice for those emergency situations when last minute cancellations transcend into discount dive trips. There was a particular January cruise which has captivated my imagination; it was a sixteen day outing to Eastern Fields, juxtaposed with exploration to new territories beyond. The brief itinerary description stirred the Walter Mitty in me. Unfortunately, this particular itinerary has been booked since I first took note. But on a lark, I shot off an email inquiring about cancellations. What the heck, with less than three weeks before sailing, what are the chances, and what’s the harm? More than a week
passed. Delusions of Coral
Sea adventures long since evaporated inside the salt mine inferno,
when an email arrived from Cap’t Craig of the Golden Dawn: “If you can get here,
I’ve got a berth for you". Yikes! Fantasy travel agent quickly revealed that I
had less than 8 hours to decide before airfare ratchets from exceedingly
onerous to hideously draconian. These
are the very circumstances when one cannot depend upon a rational decision process,
instead, best to body-slam logic aside, click “BUY”, and then let the
consequences orchestrate the outcome. And
so it was such that I found myself aboard the Golden Dawn on January 12, 2008.
It was only after
boarding the Dawn did I learn the details for exploration. We were to go beyond
Eastern Fields, to another cluster of atolls.
Ashmore and Boot reefs lay off-shore from the northern extremes of the Great Barrier Reef.
Like Eastern Fields, they are remnants of volcanic seamounts lying off
the Australian shelf, thus not considered part of the GBR. A survey of charts shows these atolls to sit
inside Australia’s
exclusive economic zone, no one onboard fully comprehend the implications of
EEZ, and Cap’t Craig warned about the possibility of being chased away. This was when for the first time in my life, I
experienced Google withdrawal; under normal circumstances I would have the
definition of EEZ in 4 key strokes, but not when off-shore PNG. Despite my internet jonsing, the lack of
information was actually a blessing as it amplified the aura of adventure. A stubborn low pressure trough over Queensland kept us huddled around Port Moresby for several days, during which we busied ourselves blinding lacey scorpion fish and visiting the ethereal Susie’s Bommy. When the low finally hinted relent, the Golden Dawn made a break for Eastern Fields. Thirty five knot gusts and beam swells made for a rock and roll crossing. It turns out 2007-2008 was a la Nina winter, resulting in unruly perturbations in west Pacific weather, and colder than cold in Minnesota, home sweet home.  Though we arrived at Eastern Fields under stormy skies, we were immediately rewarded with blue waters and verdant vistas. Almost everything I had read and heard about the Fields inflated into reality; mile after mile of unspoiled reefs fringed by richly adorned walls fading down into indigo shadows. Without a doubt, these are healthiest corals I have seen. I said “almost”. There is one significant and alarming deviation from the recounts: the numbers of sharks and pelagic predators were down. The tenacious pillage by global fisheries has found the Fields. Cap’t Craig reports that over the past few years he has seen, with increasing frequency, long-liners trolling around the Fields. Most of my fellow divers on this trip have been making regular pilgrimages to the Fields since the early ‘90s, and they concur with the observed decline. Alas, my assumption for a remote sanctuary was erred, I had waited too long for this retreat! Of course all this has to be put in perspective, we saw sharks, tunas and even a sailfish, but not in the abundance of lore. But compared to Indonesia 100 miles west, there were orders of magnitudes more big fish around the Fields. Perhaps the storm clouds which greeted us at the Fields were a fitting metaphor for the future of eastern Eden. At this juncture, Eastern Fields was just a waypoint for our westward exploration, so after a day of respite in the atoll we continued onwards into Australian economic waters. When we awoke the following morning in the vicinity of Boot reef, the seas were still snotty, but calmer than the first crossing. The charts showed a blip on the charts south of Boot, rising from the abyss to 10 feet. Both Cap’t Craig & I have been eyeing this piece of submarine real estate since we commenced the cruise. Unfortunately it was just too rough to put in, so we sailed on to seek shelter within Ashmore.
Satellite view of Ashmore & Boot from Oceandots.com Upon my return to WWW-zation, I found precious little information of Ashmore & Boot. Perhaps the best that I found was a blurp on oceandots.com: “Ashmore Reef lies beyond the far northeastern regions of the Great Barrier Reef, due east of the Torres Strait. It consists of an irregular series of submerged reefs forming an elongated atoll-like ring that encloses a deep and open lagoon — reefs are less well-developed on the east (leeward side) of the reef. Situated 6 km to the northeast of Ashmore Reef is the smaller Boot Reef. Both reefs have been little explored, although serve as remote destinations for dive-tour operators.”
Fish soup So apparently Ashmore & Boot were known dive destinations. Further query revealed that the Northern Explorer from Australia has occasionally made trips to these atolls, but are not on their regular schedules. These may very well amongst the least visited dive sites in the world! Another example of the region’s remoteness: as we sailed into Ashmore, the charts on the GPS navigations system suggested we were crashing across the top of reefs while we were actually in deep water and the breakers over said reef were a mile off starboard! Once sheltered by Ashmore we immediately went about the task of diving. All the diving was exploratory, but Cap’t Craig has the knack for seeking out promising terrain. As soon as we rolled overboard, silver-tip sharks came up to greet the commotion. The water at Ashmore was a few degrees cooler than Eastern Fields, and chocked with nutrients. Soon after I settled into the dive, bouillabaisse came to mind; I was swimming in fish soup; reef dwellers, runners, surgeons, snappers, tunas, mackerels, and sharks. And for the first time I felt that I was experiencing a coral reef as nature had intended.
Thriving Ashmore We continued to
explore Ashmore, starting at its northeastern corner, we traversed across the
atoll to its southwestern corner. On the
second day of our sojourn at Ashmore, an Australian Customs aircraft buzzed the
Dawn at close quarters while we were lunching on the aft deck. Cap’t Craig rushed to the radio, and
returned jubilant that we have been cleared to continue our activities. I started to appreciate the EEZ; although we
weren’t actually in Australian territorial waters, the Aussies were diligent to
monitor and patrol its economic zones; had we been conducting unauthorized
fishing activities at Ashmore, we would have been quickly routed. The diggers have been patrolling the waters
adjacent to Indonesia,
resulting in controversial arrests of shark fishermen. I surmise that the same diligence is why we
are seeing such healthy & intact reef ecosystems at Ashmore.
Stout Ashmore corals Although only 60 miles apart, Ashmore and the Fields were distinctly different. Subjectively, I opine that Ashmore’s coral is less diverse; we saw acre after acres of pristine stag horn coral. The structure seemed more robust, thick elkhorns, large brains, less soft corals, smaller fans, more rubble fields, sloping walls… Bigger waves? Cyclones? Older atoll? Since all the dives were exploratory, we had no standards to reference. This much is clear: lots of sharks, silver-tips, black-tips, greys, white-tips, and hammers. Also the distribution of biomass seemed more homogenous. Where the buffalos roam... Oh, yes, the currents… We straddled the full moon during our week at Ashmore. Seeking the pressure buffer where currents impinge upon the reefs was the norm. More than once we missed the shelter and were taken for a whoopee ride over the tops of the reef, breezing by schools of feeding snappers. Deco stops occasionally required a blue water drift with the safety sausage, with only pesky silky sharks to keep company. Not for the faint of heart. Unpredictable upwellings brought chilling surprises; water temperature at Ashmore ranged between 74 and 81 F, and 81 feels heavenly after a 74 dousing. The weather continued to moderate as our trip progressed, so while meandering back towards PNG, we took another stab at that alluring sea mount south of Boot reef. This time the gods smiled and this anonymous speck on the charts was immediately inducted into my dive-site hall of fame. The “speck” was probably 20 acres on top; the walls were steep, and not particularly well adorned. This site buzzed with primal energy, more so than any place I can recall. This weren’t “kumbaya swim-alongs between divers and sharks”; instead these were Bart Simpson-esque “this my backyard, and who the hell are you” encounters, reminiscent of dives from long ago when we would be challenged by territorial reef sharks, only here they were bigger, and lots more of them. At no-name rock, we floated down current, traversing thru sharky dominions, the big fish in charge would come in for a quick look before letting its lesser attendants keep us in check as we drift by. Cap’t Craig on a silent rebreather led a parade of sharks, pied piper style, drawing them in by rubbing on a plastic water bottle.
By the time we returned to Eastern Fields, the weather had reached perfection; we enjoyed classic Fields conditions: flat seas and blue skies decorated with cotton ball clouds. As beautiful as the weather was, it was here that we witnessed firsthand the decimation of Eastern Fields. A fleet of three small fishing boats were rafted off a dive-site named Moe’s. We saw buoys extending hooked lines and nets in the water. At least the boats were PNG flagged, although they sported Japanese names. The Fields receive no special conservation protection and these boats only require a permit to fish these waters. Some of my fellow travelers expressed anger at the fishermen, I contended that they were merely etching a living, and blamed rapacious global seafood consumption. While the crew of the Dawn paid a visit to the fishing boats, we dived the outer wall of the reef. To my horror and amazement, the site was devoid of any fish over 6 inches long! I could hardly believe the carnage inflicted by three little boats, and gained an appreciation for commercial fishing’s efficiency. And I gained even greater appreciation for the efficaciousness of Australia’s conservation programs. We sailed away to search for peaceful waters.   We visited all of the Fields’ signature sites. Despite bereavements from others who have frequented Eastern Fields for over a decade, to a first time newby like me, the Fields did not fail to deliver. The coral was still verdant with no discernable traces of impact, after all only a hundred or so lucky divers visit here each year. The gin clear water made wide angle photo-ops a cinch. By comparison, the waters back at Ashmore although richer, contained more particles, and made photography challenging. Once again I chastised myself for postponing my visit to Eastern Fields, I can only dream of the richness of Ashmore combined with the royal blue viz of the Fields. Sigh…
 (c) 2008 Noodle Productions |
