Marine Life Encounters Blog

Bermuda: A Bonanza of Black Grouper, Sargassum Fish and Much, Much More

Bermuda - September/October 2009 - Even though Bermuda has an active contingent of REEF fish surveyors and rich tradition of marine science, the remote Atlantic island had, for some unfathomable reason, been off Anna’s and my underwater radar. But NO LONGER, not after our two-week October stay, first as members of a REEF Survey Team followed by several days spent with local friends. Like a rocket, the hospitable English colony zoomed to the top our list of must-return-to destinations.

I have to admit that we possibly wouldn’t have made it to Bermuda at all if it hadn’t been for repeated invitations from four magnetic Bermudian personalities Judie and Eric Clee, Marni McAllister, and Chris Flook, friends we‘ve become acquainted with during REEF sponsored trips. The trio of Judie, an environmental dynamo, her lifelong friend Marni, and Chris the Collector of Specimens for the Bermuda Aquarium, were finally too much for us to resist. So on a weekend in early October a team of a dozen REEF volunteers joined local fish fanciers at Grotto Bay, home of Triangle Diving our underwater host for the week.

One of the most rewarding parts of diving is travel. No matter how many reefs you’ve explored or animals you’ve encountered you will always find a new set of wonders at the next destination. Bermuda’s high-profile reef system with its thick carpeting of coral is far and away the richest and healthiest we’ve visited in the Western Hemisphere. Less fish life, compared with tropical destinations far to the south, is a bit unsettling until you start poking about and Bermuda begins surrendering her treasures. Among the first of many nuggets is, of all things, a Yellowhead Wrasse. Now this is not just any ol’ Yellowhead, this is a dazzling homegrown version, known locally as Redbacks. Later, while exploring the sand I note another Bermuda oddity, an indigenous hermit crab that takes up residence inside a stationary worm tube rather than a mobile mollusk shell. But the prize of our first dive is a Conchfish, an uncommon find in any waters. The small cardinalfish resides within the shell of a living conch, its symbiotic home.

Nine hundred miles east of Charleston, the narrow 22-mile island of Bermuda, the only dry remnant of an expansive volcanic plateau, sits in the warm wash of the Gulf Stream creating an oasis for tropical creatures in a far-flung sub-tropical clime. Above water the rather hilly stretch of limestone is dotted with gleaming white roofs and graced with world-class seascapes.

During the week the REEF group, thanks to Triangle Divers and the dynamic Judie Clee, are kept to a delightfully full schedule. After two extended survey dives each day the group is whisked off in the evenings to a night snorkel and picnic at Whalebone Bay, presentations by local fish, turtle and whale conservationists, a slide show at the venerable Bermuda Institute of Ocean Sciences, a private tour of the nature preserve on Nonsuch Island (former headquarters of ocean explorer, naturalist and executive of the New York Zoological Society, William Beebe), and a grand finale dinner and behind the scene look at the Bermuda Aquarium Museum and Zoo (BAMZ). The Bermuda Zoological Society, the non-profit support group for BAMZ has a long history of supporting REEF in Bermuda and they went above and beyond to host many of our week’s activities. REEF is fortunate to have such good partners on the island.

While surveying an inshore grass bed around the remains of one of Beebe’s research vessels, deliberately sunk as a breakwater off Nonsuch Island, Anna returns to the boat clutching a bottle dug from the sand. The green glass container, manufactured in Bermuda a century or so ago to transport mineral water, employs a loose marble to seal the bubbly contents inside. A sucker for curiosities from the sea, Anna placed her most recent treasure in a position of honor among her private museum of clay gin bottles, parrotfish beaks, sea beans, beach glass and carved fishing goggles.

Besides the unique sightings of indigenous fishes and invertebrates our group was pleasantly surprised to discover an unusual abundance of puddingwives – another strikingly beautiful member of the wrasse family, cryptic tiger gobies, and most heartening of all, a sizeable population of black grouper, a rarity at most Caribbean locations.

From our early research of reef fisheries management, Anna and I were well aware of Bermuda’s historic ban on fish pots (fish traps) – baited rectangular wire cages each with a funnel entrance. The all-too-efficient harvesting method, which began after WWII, proliferated as demand for food fish increased with population growth and the expansion of tourism. A marked decline in food fish populations was officially noted as early as 1975 when catch records were first compiled. By the 1980s there had been a complete collapse of once abundant Nassau Grouper due to the direct targeting of the species’ annual weeklong mass spawning aggregation at a traditional site. Their predictable behavior makes the grouper sitting ducks for overexploitation by nearly every kind of fishing method, especially fish pots.

As a direct result of a heroic efforts by the then Minister of the Environment, Ann Cartwright-DeCouto, fish pots were permanently banned from Bermudian waters in 1990, one of the first governments in the world to muster the courage to take such an audacious step. Although the far-sighted legislation was politically costly, the environmental results two-decades later are obvious with populations of most bottom-dwelling fishes showing a marked rebound. Sadly, because of the direct targeting of their annual spawning aggregation preceding the fish-pot prohibition, Nassau groupers have been unable to make a comeback. Today, as REEF data indicates, sightings of the historically common market fish are virtually nonexistent.

The good news, Bermuda’s population of Black Grouper, locally known as Rockfish, has remained comparatively stable. Because of their size, male Blacks, which reach a length of five feet and can weigh more than 100 lbs., were less susceptible to fish pots. An even more critical factor is the species’ wider reproductive window, which makes them less vulnerable to targeted fishing. However, the latest technique of trolling for the great fish, combined with the recent discovery of the specie’s traditional spawning grounds has renewed concern for their welfare. Like most marine creatures, little is known about the natural history of Black Grouper, which highlights a universal problem in fisheries management: How do you develop wise fisheries policies if you don’t even understand an animal’s nature?

This brings us back to Triangle Divers. Not only does the enterprising staff run a crackerjack scuba and snorkeling excursion and instruction concession, but Graham Maddocks, Graham Christmas and Ken Vickers have taken it upon their collective shoulders to document the spawning behavior of Black Grouper, which, at this point, has never even been witnessed. Their mission first took the Triangle crew to Florida for extensive rebreather training. Then, out of their own pockets, they purchased the high-tech equipment necessary to more safely and efficiently study the, logistically-distant,110-foot deep aggregation site. Even though burdened with a demanding work schedule and a limited fuel budget the group has already documented much of the groupers’ courtship behavior, and most important, substantiated that the aggregation, which at times numbers in the hundreds, remains at the spawning grounds far longer than previously believed. The results of their venture has prompted the Department of Environmental Protection to consider extending the existing ban on fishing in the area, or possibly closing the grounds permanently.

Protection of the grouper grounds is paramount for maintaining Bermuda’s population of black grouper. But, like everywhere, it is a tough sell convincing fishing interests to bypass ready profits for long-term interest. The sell would be easier if it were practical for those in the debate to personally witness the aggregation. Nothing turns environmental theory into reality more clearly than a personal wildlife encounter.  Triangle’s video presentation will certainly help the cause. In the meantime, the Bermuda Aquarium is home to a most worthy ambassador of its species – Darth Vader the resident black “show” grouper of 16- year standing. If one goes behind closed doors and up to the rim of the large display tank Darth Vader will shortly appear at your feet and roll on its side for a scratching. Having an unfamiliar animal respond to your touch with such apparent pleasure makes it difficult for anyone to think of the lovable fish and its wild brethren as nothing more than unprocessed filets. 

After Chris Flook returned from a REEF Lionfish Study in the Bahamas, where he witnessed heavily infested reefs for the first time, he developed a volunteer-based plan for removing the alien predators from Bemuda reefs. It is highly unlikely that the Indo-Pacific scorpionfish, which have inhabited local waters for nearly a decade, can be eradicated.  The goal of the project is to limit their numbers on critical reef tracks allowing the natural recruitment of settling fishes to continue. The number of lionfish appears to be down this year, but Chris, realizing how new we are to this game, is cautious, concerned that they might have simply migrated to deeper water. The Bermuda lionfish control program has not only helped minimize a serious threat to local fishes, but also serves as a template-of-action for down-stream island nations as the threat spreads across the Caribbean Basin. For his innovative work with lionfish Chris was honored with the Bermuda National Trust 2009 Environmental Award. 

The gang from Triangle was one of the first groups to sign up for Chris’s lionfish program. During the REEF week, the crew was happy to have so many good eyes aboard to help track down the wily culprits. Although relatively scarce, there was enough lionfish around for the REEF group to dine on their tasty filets one evening.

Although Anna and I heard many intriguing stories about Bermuda’s fishes from Chris, it was his tales about the tiny army of animals he finds traveling with rafts of Sargassum that first sparks our interest. The isolated island, near the western fringe of the two million square mile Sargasso Sea, receives great drifts of Sargassum weed with every easterly blow. Each rootless raft, a world upon itself, shelters juvenile pelagic and reef fishes by the score. A permanent population of golden-dappled shrimps, crabs, pipefish and frogfish make their home exclusively within the tangled world. Our group gets so absorbed in sorting out the menagerie of miniatures concealed in the weed that we find it hard to pass a raft without  having a look.

Although we have nothing against large, charismatic sea animals it’s the small, exotic, typically unknown, curiosities we like most. Chris is a past master at finding aquatic delights. A collector of specimens before he became a Collector of Specimens, Chris has been toting nets and pails around the tide pools, bays and beaches of Bermuda since his earliest memories. Over the decades few sea critters, no matter how small or unassuming, have escaped his eagle eyes or his nets.

Anna and I accompany Chris to a calm Sargassum-lined bay in his collecting skiff. We spend our morning wading about like grade schoolers happily dipping animals from the shallows. With a gentle surge lapping at his knees, Chris bends forward patiently staring into a tangle of bobbing weed. Now and again he pauses, eyes locked. Ever so slowly he angles his nets into position, and with a well-practiced twist of the wrist ensnares the prize. A number of tiny jacks and chubs accompany us back to the aquarium where they will be at first quarantined and later raised to become part of the exhibit. While examining the pea-sized trophies buzzing about in the bucket, Chris explains how well these fry adapt to captivity compared to larger juveniles or adults set in their way.

Blending in is the name of the game in the weed. Those that survive marauding fish attacks from below and diving birds from above have to keep an eye out for fellow rafters such as the Sargassum Fish, a frogfish with one of the largest stomach in the business and a mouth and appetite to match.