
I took some photos in the water a while back, planning on doing a series. I posted one and then forgot about them. Here’s another one.

I took some photos in the water a while back, planning on doing a series. I posted one and then forgot about them. Here’s another one.

This week’s Sunday Stills challenge theme is ‘2021 in Your Rear-View Mirror.’ See more responses here. I’ve gone with a favorite photo from each month of 2021, with a caption and link to the post the photo first appeared in.












I was snorkeling yesterday, when I looked up and saw this green turtle coming towards me. It was near the surface and heading up so I thought it might be about to take a breath. Instead, the turtle, which was quite small, leveled off and kept coming my way.
Usually, in the water, I have a bit of zoom on my camera since that’s often needed. In this instance, I zoomed out and found myself leaning back to keep the turtle in the image. It came within a foot of me and I thought we were going to butt heads, but at the last moment it stopped, veered, then swooped down and away.
It wasn’t until I got home and processed my photos that I noticed the slender remora on the turtle’s shell, behind its head. Remoras, which don’t harm their hosts, attach themselves by means of a sucker disk on their heads, so what can be seen on this turtle is the underside of the fish.
I don’t change my desktop image often, but the top photo makes me so happy I popped it up immediately, so I’m posting it in response to Clare’s monthly Share Your Desktop challenge (see more responses here).


Fish tend to have their territories, so that when I swim, I often see the same kind of fish in the same place. This stretch of water is a place where pyramid butterflyfish can usually be found.

This crocodile needlefish swam up to check me out one day when I was snorkeling. These are large fish and sometimes, when I see them, I mistake them for great barracudas. A somewhat disturbing fact about crocodile needlefish is that, if they become alarmed, particularly at night, they can turn on whoever has frightened them and drive their beak into that person. The wounds inflicted can be very serious and deaths have been recorded. Mostly though, when I’m snorkeling, they just cruise by and take a non-threatening look.

My most recent manta ray encounter happened a few days ago. I was swimming along and saw a familiar shape in front of me. It was a manta ray heading in the same direction. I tracked it for a while, hoping to catch up, but knowing that doing so was entirely up to the manta. Eventually I did draw level for a short while. Then the manta pulled away again.
As it disappeared, I thought at first I was seeing some kind of weird reflection in the water. Then I realized it was a second manta swimming toward me. As it approached the first manta turned and followed behind. Both were pretty large and up near the water’s surface, creating reflections.

They passed by, and receded in the direction I’d come from. I hung around for a while hoping they’d reverse course again and, sure enough, a few moments later the two of them came back toward me. On this pass, I could see that one had a badly damaged cephalic flap. It looked like an old wound and didn’t seem to trouble the manta much, but I don’t know how it would affect it when it came to feeding since they use the flaps to funnel plankton into their mouths.

Eventually, the mantas headed away and out into deeper water. I stayed out for a while on the off chance that they’d return, but wasn’t surprised when they didn’t. Still, it had been another wonderful encounter and I headed back toward shore in a very good mood.


I had just jumped in the water and submerged my head when I saw something move. The fish immediately plopped down by a rock but I’d already recognized the distinctive shape of a devil scorpionfish. I hung around for a short while hoping it would spread its pectoral fins in its distinctive display, but it never did. The second photo, which has run on the blog before, shows what I was looking for.


A couple of days ago, I was snorkeling when I saw this enormous fish. I snapped a quick photo, fearful that the fish would quickly disappear. But it stuck around for a minute or two, passing back and forth in front of me, before sliding away into deeper water.
I knew it was a jack, but not one I’d seen before. When I got home, I dove into my fish book and figured out this was a giant trevally. According to my fish book, the giant trevally is the largest of the jack family. The biggest recorded catch is one that weighed 191 pounds. That would be heavier than me! That’s a tad worrisome because my fish book also notes that these curious and fearless fish ‘have been known to grab and rip away divers’ bright snorkel tips and colorful fins.’
This one was smaller than that, probably somewhere between three and four feet long, but comfortably the largest jack I’ve ever seen and probably the largest fish I’ve seen of any kind other than rays and sharks.