a scuba diver holding a fishing net under the dark ocean

Haunted Waters by Haley Horvat

When originally briefed for this dive, I pictured abandoned nets floating between coral formations like volleyball nets. Now, finally, beneath the surface of the ocean, I scan the rocky, urchin-covered Samran Pinnacle, nestled in the Gulf of Thailand, through the clear, sun-filled water, and see none. 

a female scuba diver is diving in the ocean over the coral and sea orchins

Knowing I won’t end up tangled in the net, I remind myself to breathe and let out a long slow breath. As I inhale, my stomach expands and chest rises, the image of the giant underwater boulder as a netted wasteland dissolves from my mind. Floating with the current, the three other interns and I calmly drift along with the rocky spire with each fin kick.

Ghost Nets

I was not just looking for any old plastic in the sea, but for ghost nets. It was concluded that 46% of the contents of the Great Pacific Garbage Patch is comprised of deserted plastic fishing nets, known as “ghost nets.” 

Ghost nets don’t simply add to the commotion of garbage patches, they haunt the reefs. If left without immediate attention, a reef will grow over the net in the places where the net let enough light through for the corals to survive. These nets are massive, ranging from a few hundred feet to miles long, and act as fish (and diver) booby traps. Even after fishing boats have cut ties on them due to entanglement on unforeseen reefs, they continue to do what they were created for – entrap fish and sea life. 

Three scuba divers are pulling a massive fishing net under the ocean to save the coral reef and marine lives

There is no simple solution to reducing the number of ghost nets due to the vast expense of reaching the nets and hiring divers, additionally the activity is extremely time-consuming and potentially dangerous. The nets are often unwittingly snagged on marine obstacles below; it is a considerable financial loss to the fishermen and harmful to marine life when nets are left behind.

a scuba diver is pulling a fishing net from the coral in the deep ocean

Forgotten Marine Conservation

I watch bubbles escape from my regulator and make their way to where water and air meet; I imagine them erupting on the surface. As I envision this, I admire the ethereal blue light I find myself floating in, gentle and free. The clarity of the water is due to the minimal particles, so the sunlight is absorbed directly into it instead of reflecting off of the particles which makes the water appear more clouded. Today, the water’s visibility is almost 30 meters. 

Lost in the ocean’s serene beauty, I wonder why marine environments are forgotten about when we think of conservation issues? Is it because so many have never admired them? Because people don’t live in the oceans? Or is it simply because they don’t have the capacity or means to care? Marine environments are more difficult to reach and to monitor full time in order to protect, especially since some areas can be miles offshore. Additionally, they are much more complicated to mark in order to designate protection and when marked, buoys often move or are run over by careless boat captains. 

Samran Pinnacle which lays between Koh Phangan and Koh Tao (an island that is known to be a diver’s paradise), is a perfect example of this devastating environmental problem. Fortunately, past individual efforts to reduce the waste have had an impact on the pinnacle, and the apparent absence of nets in this place gives me hope. Descending to 25 meters, however, a graveyard of decayed fishing gear on the ocean’s floor becomes visible. Again dismayed, I wonder if this is the future fate of all oceans. 

COREsea

In the afternoon briefing the day before, Stef, our dive instructor at the Center for Oceanic Research and Education (COREsea) facility, pointed to the smeared chalkboard that hadn’t been erased since this time last year. All the interns sat in a circle around him as he drew a map of Samran Pinnacle so we could mentally orient ourselves. We studied how to correctly collect the net, rolling it downwards with gravity as to not make things more difficult. 

“Don’t fight the ocean” he instructed in his English accent. “You’ll never win.”

 He reviewed how to inflate our Buoyancy Control Devices (BCD) to help carry the collected nets – an impossible task on land, but with water’s buoyancy on our side, and a little bit of extra oxygen trapped in our BCDs for lift, it would come more easily. We counted how many people would bring dive knives and how many people needed scissors to cut through the net. 

Two Sides to Every Story

a female scuba diver is cutting a fishing net out of the rock under the ocean

The only thing left to determine was what to do with the net once it was collected. It seemed like a trick question, and it was. “Take it out, of course,” I almost blurted out. “We don’t need any more plastic in the sea.” I’m glad I didn’t. 

We had two options: swim the net to the surface or cut it free. 

Option one, bringing it to the surface, we would have to figure out how to get this waterlogged, algae-covered, organism-alluring thing onto the boat, cutting out every potential Convex Reef Crab, Butterflyfish, and other crustaceans from the twisted and tangled net, as to not kill all these creatures which we had taken from their oceanic home. 

Option two, cutting the net free, required bundling it up, swimming 30 meters away from Samran, and dropping it to the seafloor- allowing the plastic to remain in the sea but also allowing the marine life in the net to live and create new habitat, or novel ecosystem, from the net. This would allow the creatures to adapt to their new, human-altered environment. The marine life would ultimately be modifying the way they live by learning to use human impact to their advantage.

As none of us were scientists, at least not yet, we consulted COREsea’s director and head marine biologist, Eike, the most passionate, sea-loving, Thai speaking, German I had ever met. By this point, I had met quite a few marine enamoured Germans, but none quite like Eike. With a background in conservation and his love for all things oceanic, Eike advised we drop the nets, making it safer for the divers participating in the net removal and allowed intertwined marine life the opportunity to live on. 

a scuba diver is cutting a fishing net entangled with a coral reef while a male scuba diver is holding the rest pop the net right behind

A New Home

I learned that larger animals such as fish and turtles would most certainly die if they get caught in the gill nets. However, small crustaceans such as crabs, sea worms and small shrimp could easily move throughout the netting, even when bundled. In fact, they essentially turn the nets into their new dwellings since it acts as an artificial reef. And when the net it collected and dropped to the deep sea, the critters may continue to thrive in their cozy quarters. 

two scuba diver are diving in the ocean around the coral reef

Now here we were, with that plan in mind. 

Swimming around Samran Pinnacle once to determine where our efforts are best focused, we get to work on a smaller net adhered to the side, around 22 meters deep. It’s one we can easily handle among the four divers present. Armed with gloves to fend off urchin pokes, we snip at the green plastic net twisted around the reef, careful of the new coral growth which had engulfed it. This allows the coral to continue building reefs without uprooting the animals and destroying them. Free of fish, we ball up the net until it is the size of a football and squeeze it in our bag. 

In a few minutes, we have made this tiny corner of the reef free from nets. And while others work on the same task, we have a good chance of leaving the reef better than we found it. But it’s hard to know for sure – is it “better” to remove all the plastic from the ocean and take vulnerable sea life with it? Or to remove some plastic, leaving other large pieces to spare the hostage shrimp and crabs that got confused in fishermen’s grasps, ultimately making the nets their new homes? 

two scuba divers are shaking hands under the ocean above the seaweed

Safe for Today

Slowly ascending to the surface, I try to keep track of my bubbles wiggling side to side all the way up to the surface as I wait at five meters for my decompression stop. I think about how differently this could have gone. I think about all the yellow and black batfish, the brown and tan Malabar groupers sitting on the ocean-floor dwarfing me in comparison, the eels popping out of their homes, and other sea critters who swarm and call the pinnacle reef home. Today they are lucky, they continue to swim without too many hazards dropped from fishing vessels above. 

But this may not always be the case. With unsustainable fishing practices choking the natural wonders, and few advocates for the marine life below, the reef could turn into a marine desert filled with all-encompassing nets. When Samran Pinnacle reaches this point, it won’t only be the fish in trouble, it will be the local villagers of these coastal regions who cannot catch fish due to degraded reefs and unregulated taking from marine environments, they will have to find a new way to feed themselves and to make their incomes.

After I surface, I spit out my regulator and breathe my first breath of salty, humid air after an hour of being underwater. I take in the grey sky above and rising waves below; a storm is on its way. 

a group of scuba diver under the ocean in the coral reef holding a sign saying that 'Climate Strike'

Sources: https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-018-22939-w


Haley Horvat headshot

About The Author

Haley Horvat is a master’s candidate for environmental management at Western Colorado University. She has focused her master’s project around science communication for marine ecosystems and is currently interning for Icoral as the Citizen Science Communications Intern and also for High Country News Magazine as the Fact-checking Intern. Haley grew up in the suburbs of Chicago and found her passion for marine ecosystems and oceans while visiting her grandparents in Florida every winter as she grew up. In her free time, she adores scuba diving tropical waters and creative writing (with a pen and notebook, of course).

About the Photographer, Stefan Follows

From 2001 I have worked as a diving instructor, dive centre manager, and dive guide predominantly in the Gulf of Thailand, which finally got me into the ocean and allowed me virtually endless opportunities to indulge in my passions for teaching, diving, photography and all things aquatic. For the past seven years, I have been leading the education department of Core Sea, a small research field station on Koh Pha Ngan, which continues to give me time for my watery desires. Take a look at what Core sea does here, When I’m not at Core sea I take the time to explore, dive, photograph and produce the watery works that you will find on this site.

This piece was prepared online by Panuruji Kenta, Publisher, SEVENSEAS Media