Hawaii-based divemaster and underwater photographer Yara Laufer writes about her night dives shared with giant manta rays. But while the experience is something special, she explains, mass tourism is doing more bad than good.
The moon is reflecting on the surface of the ocean in the waters outside Kona, Hawaii. The salty air is infused with a scent of Plumeria and joyful tension. A fleeting movement in the corner of the eye, a white reflection of the fin tips and suddenly a slowly hovering shadow appears just below the dark surface of the water. That’s the signal – the giant manta rays have arrived and it is time to dance with the devils.
The camera is ready, I put my diving mask on and my heart is beating quickly. One last breath, the world stops for a moment and the only movement is the quiet wing beat of the 18-foot manta ray next to me. It rises determinedly to the surface to feed on plankton, only to pirouette back down towards the seabed shortly afterwards.
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