Author: Daniel Mc Auley

  • By Hook or By Crook

    People shouldn’t look at the balance sheet all of the time they should think of the future.
    Cyril Collins 2016

    A friend sent a video link to me recently about a community-based project that took place in Ballina in County Mayo. The community turn a wasteland into a forest and then, over time and slow work, they transform the forest into a community walk, allowing residents and visitors to access beautiful Belleek forest.

    The paths offers a space to exercise in a natural wonderland. In these strange COVID-19 times this arrived as a blessing to those from the area. Cyril Collins, the main driver of the forest park, expresses wise sentiments about not worrying about the balance sheet. Instead he urges us to think of the long term, and the benefits of any work to future generations.

    Listening to the story I was reminded of my favourite dive site on the east coast of Ireland, and the evolution I have watched take place there. It is over twenty years since I first dived ‘the Hook’.

    In 1996 the famous Lighthouse was about to be automated, as was the case with so many of the great lighthouses around Ireland at the time. Personnel were no longer needed to keep watch over lifesaving lights. The arrival new technology meant lights could shine automatically, without the oversight of a permanent keeper on site.

    With evidence of structures on this site on Hook Head dating back fifteen centuries, by this point there was no need for a human lookout. Since then the local community – working hand-in-hand with different state bodies – has taken over the empty structures and turned them into a tourist attraction that includes a popular café. This work, along with the enchanting beauty of the place, makes it one of most visited tourist attractions in the country.

    Over the course of many dive trips to this area I have always received a warm welcome from the local community, and in the seas around this ancient lighthouse experienced some incredible dives.

    The Céad míle fáilte that we divers received in the late 1990s, in what was then a lonely spot remains undimmed today, with upwards of 200,000 visitors arriving from every corner of the world most years.

    Two Ways of Diving

    There are essentially two types of diving: shore diving and boat diving. Most people learn to dive through shore diving, i.e. via direct access from the shore. The second type is from a boat, and is known as boat diving.

    Most training dives – in Ireland at least – are shore dives. This allows new divers to walk directly into the water, uncomplicated by any need to have an understanding of the protocols required when diving off a vessel.

    Although there are distinct disadvantages to diving off the shore, as some of the more spectacular sites are inaccessible, it also has clear advantages. A buddy team is not reliant on a club or dive centre to provide a manned vessel, and there is none of the timing requirements, or costs, associated with boat diving.

    Spread out along the 5,500 kilometres of Irish coastline there are some well-trodden paths that divers take to access the underwater world.

    Hook Head

    The peninsula of Hook, located at the southernmost end of county Wexford, is among my favourite underwater playgrounds, which I make sure to visit every season at least a couple of times.

    It is a distinctive peninsula, marking the end of the narrow straits of the Irish Sea, with the three sister rivers of the Nore, the Suir and the Barrow converging on the southern side. The peninsula is an integral part of the tourist route known as Ireland’s Ancient East.

    Journeying down through Wexford every few miles one meets signs for ancient castles and stately country homes. It speak of a bygone era, when every other Wexford man and woman’s home seems to have been a castle!

    Arriving on the thin peninsula, dotted around the Lighthouse within a few kilometres of each other there are a multitude of dive sites easily accessed from the shore.

    As the area contends with strong currents divers exploring the area must take care. Thus, diving with someone who knows the area is strongly recommended. It is, however, a relatively shallow part of the coastline, meaning basic level divers can enjoy all of the dive sites without exceeding the PADI open water level eighteen-metre mark.

    The sedimentary rocks of the peninsula are festooned with fossils of long departed sea creatures, which creates a very special ambience. These soft rocks have been pounded by violent waves, where the Irish Sea meets the mighty Atlantic.

    The Ocean swells have sculpted a labyrinth of gullies and rock walls, encrusted with a cornucopia of multi-coloured sponges and anomies. This unique topography, mixed with the clear waters around the Hook, gives the diver an impression of being on a flight through a surreal landscape.

    Three Main Sites

    There are three main shore dive access points, all of which have ample parking space. I break them down below into three sites, but from these three entry points there are multiple dives available. There are other dive sites along the Hook peninsula, but I am sharing three of the best, which offer some of the most unique shore diving in Ireland.

    Slade Harbour is located on the north side of the peninsula. You get there by taking a left turn at the last roundabout coming up to the Lighthouse. The road takes you to a small fishing harbour that empties out completely at low tide, and where you can park a car. From there divers can reach a number of access points.

    By far the most impressive site is Solomon’s Hole, which is an incredible sea arch that acts as an entry point into a ten metre gully. This gives the diver a safe exit into deeper water regardless of the swell. The gully leads into kelp gardens where shoals of mackerel are regular visitors during the summer months.

    This side of the peninsula is the easiest to access, and is rarely blown out like the other dive sites. Facing north it is sheltered from the main swells that pound the peninsula, although it is not quite as dramatic as the other sites.

    Hook Lighthouse and Blowholes

    Hook Lighthouse is situated under the main Lighthouse and contains a number of dives that never fail to blow new divers away. With multiple entry points and ample parking, divers are a regular sight, usually seen carefully working their way to the water’s edge.

    Beneath this ancient Lighthouse there are a warren of gullies and caves that offer a labyrinth to explore. With clear water and masses of life about, it’s a rare diver that surfaces without a brimming smile across their face.

    One of the most exciting features is a clear rock pool containing a cave at the back that links to the sea. Coming out of the dark cave into a incredible gully system it is as if one is entering a secret garden below the waves.

    Approaching the Lighthouse there is a pebble beach to the right. Most drive by the Blowholes Dive without even noticing it, there eyes transfixed by the ancient structure ahead.

    Following the coast west from the beach there are a multitude of dives for those who know the way. Underwater there are incredible caves and blowholes to explore, with stunning cathedral lighting, offering divers sites I believe are unparalleled anywhere in the world. There are also multiple shipwrecks scattered in this area that over time have been broken up by the winter storms.

    A Beacon

    Over fifteen centuries this unique site has acted as a beacon to passing ships. Now the contours of the rocks – hewn by raging seas – along with the aged buildings instill a sense of a living past, accessible to the many visitors it attracts.

    When visiting Hook Head I always make sure to stop at the Lighthouse and enjoy the great coffee, nourishing food and incredible views from the café, which has been running on the site for over twenty years now.

    A significant workforce drawn from the local community still mans the Lighthouse. Today instead of errant boats they welcome tourists and divers to the area. This thriving business is now a beacon to passers-by, demonstrating what can be accomplished when the resources of the State are invested in local communities, and the multiplier effect of positivity comes into play.

  • Jewel Anemones Crowning the Irish Coast

    Mere colour, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with definite form, can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways.
    Oscar Wilde

    One of the most dramatic dives I have ever completed was the awesome Fastnet lighthouse off the west Cork coastline. As a young diver of barely sixteen I was on a dive trip with forty other to explore that stretch of coastline.

    Blessed by one of those rare days when the might of the Atlantic Ocean is transformed to a glass like surface we braved the journey out to this rock known as ‘Ireland’s tear drop’ to Irish emigrants: it being the last view of their homeland before the dangerous journeys to a new life in the Americas began.

    Fastnet Lighthouse, 2005 By Tom from Aberystwyth, Wales. Wikicommons (cc)

    Fastnet lighthouse is located thirteen kilometres off the Cork coastline and is an incredible feat of human ingenuity. Built to withstand the mighty swells that normally pound this part of the coastline it towers forty-five metres above the Atlantic Ocean.

    First constructed in 1853 after a shipping disaster involving the loss of ninety-two lives, it was rebuilt by the Irish Lights in 1897 in its current form, using 4,300 tons of dovetailed Cornish granite.

    This was the dramatic backdrop to a dive that even a quarter of a century on stands out in my memory as something truly special. To my naive young self it seemed that dives like this were the norm, as opposed to an event of great note. I have yet to return to this site, with mighty Atlantic swells forcing me back more than once.

    I surfaced from the dive blown away by the walls that dropped from the surface heights down to depths of eighty meters, with a shipwreck also noticeable in the depths below. The sheer cliff faces was dressed in colours reminiscent of the Bermuda shorts I had worn as a youngster in the 1980s.

    Neon colours of pink, yellow and green dressed the sheer faces that in the crystal clear waters of the Atlantic lent me an unmistakable feeling of flying.

    A French photographer that was diving in the group with us surfaced raving about the colours of the Jewel anemones colonies. I was instantly intrigued at how such colourful creatures could survive and thrive in such a remote and windswept location.

    At that point I had only taken a few underwater images, mainly with disposable cameras, so the French photographer’s excitement in response to these colourful creatures left an unmistakable imprint on my younger self. As my underwater photography career expanded, the subject I have always sought out has been this beautiful and colourful creature clinging to the most exposed rocks in the most remote locations.

    Jewel anemones are asexual, reproducing by splitting into two identical species connected by a thin sliver. They form colonies of identical creatures on rock faces up to eighty meters in depth. They thrive in high energy zones, where the waters of the Atlantic wash over them with great force.

    Their method of reproduction means you normally find patches of colour fighting for real estate. Neon Green battles with neon pink for prime locations on the surface of underwater cliff faces. Rarely seen on the east coast, they are to be found in all of the most dramatic sites I have dived along the Atlantic coast.

    As well as finding them on cliffs they can be found clinging in a similar manner to shipwrecks, fighting the same battles of colour for the best seats on the exposed sides of sunken vessels.

    Over my time diving whenever I have had the chance to dive with a camera in hand I have sought out battles of different colours, and tried to capture the beauty that the colour imparts on the final image.

    In showing the image to non-divers I relish their disbelief that such colours exist below the waters that surround this country. It is assumed that only in the tropical zones where coral reefs bloom can such vibrant colours exist. This notion is shattered by the beautiful vibrant colours of these incredible rock clinging creatures.

    When training new divers the images of jewel anomies always brings an audible intake of breath as they realise what to expect on future dives. Dive sites around Ireland are actually filled with colour, but the nature of water and the way it absorbs light means that in order to bring these colours out in their true glory the underwater photographer requires powerful strobes, or flashes, to reveal the vibrant colour.

    As a diver setting out, one of the first pieces of equipment to acquire is a torch. In recent times the technology driving the underwater torch has gone through a massive innovation cycle with the introduction of LED torches.

    Now for relatively little money a powerful torch can be purchased that only a few years ago would have required a suitcase battery to power it.

    Some of the best underwater photographers in the world describe the technique of capturing underwater imagery as painting with light. The placement of the light or strobes will completely change the final imagery with the true colours being brought out through the introduction of artificial light, which was absorbed by the water column on to the subject.

    The colour patterns that these amazing colonies produce across the walls, spread out around the Irish coastline, are truly dramatic and the battles between the different colonies make for the most amazing and dazzling splashes of colour, unique to the geographical location of the dive.

    The translucent nature of the species means they can bring incredible colour to either macro or wide-angle photography, like imagery of flowers above water. The colours bring a light into even the darkest of moods.

    Another dive season has ended along the Irish coastline in recent weeks, and thankfully it has coincided with the return of travel restrictions, so although 2020 was a much shorter dive season I had the opportunity to get some exciting dive trips in during a truncated season.

    As the Atlantic storm cycles move quickly through the alphabet of names the waters are churned, with visibility dropping to only a few feet, and so the number of divers entering the water drops dramatically. Although there are many dive sites dive open throughout the year the restrictions on travel means divers are unable to travel to these sheltered locations. As the seasons in our marine environment moves into the winter stage only the bravest of divers head into the seas to get their fix of the underwater world.

  • Seal the Deal

    it is difficult enough for the fishermen to make a living but because of inaction with seal culls, they are now suffering very seriously … What is needed is to dramatically reduce the amount of seals in our water in the same way as we have to reduce our deer population … There is no nice way to do this – the hard core facts are we need a seal cull and we need it immediately and nothing less will be sufficient.
    Michael Healy-Rae, T.D. for Kerry, February, 2019.

    I have rarely agreed with Michael Healy-Rae’s, or others from his Kerry dynasty, views on anything, but the colourful manner in which they impart their message has always brought a smile.

    I respect their support for the people of Kerry, while disliking a partisan style which pits one part of the country against another. They are undoubted masters of public relations and gaining valuable media coverage, delivering messages in a way that seemingly makes them loved in Kerry, if not by the Dublin medja.

    This time, however, it’s personal. Healy-Rae has attacked friends of mine, having called for their death in the usual lurid language.

    Among the dive community a petition to stop licences being granted to cull seal colonies along the coast was quickly arranged. Within days it garnered 5,000 signatories, a number which is still climbing, as divers voice their anger at the prospect of an attack on one of the most popular of Ireland’s coastline animal communities.

    Dalkey Days

    I spent my teenage years bringing groups of children out to meet the seal colony on Dalkey Island. Snorkel camps run weekly during the summer months out of Dun Laoghaire always culminated with a much loved boat trip to Dalkey Island to swim among the resident seals.

    Some of the first underwater images I took with a disposable underwater film camera were of these playful sea creatures interacting with children from around south county Dublin. It was always hard to determine who was more playful the children or the seals, who seemed to have a number of games they liked to play, including hide and seek, tag and their constant favourite of fin chomping without being seen.

    The playful nature of seals reminds any snorkeler of a dog looking for affection from its owner. So listening to news stories where people are saying the best solution to the problems afflicting the fishing community is to take a high powered rifle to these playful creatures filled me with rage and frustration around the management of our coast, and what the future holds for it.

    Of course it is a complex issue replicated across the world and our history, where human appetites come into direct competition with other predators in the natural world.

    The Grey Seal 

    The Grey Seal – one of the two seal species found along our coastline – holds an auspicious distinction of being the first animal to be protected by law against hunting back in 1903.

    By that time the Grey Seal had become nearly extinct in Irish waters, having been hunted for both their meat and fur. Now, thanks to conservation efforts their numbers are estimated to have reached over five thousand around Irish waters, with nearly 300,000 worldwide.

    Although this sounds like a fair number, they are actually fewer in number than the African Elephant, another endangered species more wildly known for being at risk of extinction. With Ireland home to just over one per cent of the worldwide Grey Seal population, we have a great opportunity to help conserve this incredible marine animal for future generations.

    Hunter Gatherers

    The fishing industry has been under threat for as long as I can remember from all sides. In a way it is the last remaining among the hunter-gatherer professions, so it’s easy to understand why the call for seals to be culled has come from this quarter.

    Fishing quotas introduced at a European level can seem deeply unfair to those who support their family from fishing. Catches often have to be thrown back into the water on account of it being a species which cannot be sold due to quotas. On the other hand, the playful seal does not have these caps inflicted on it, and is able to hunt for fish to its heart’s content.

    Technological advances have allowed super trawlers to travel thousands of miles to hoover up fish stocks, with implications for small scale fisheries. The recent restaurant closures due to the Covid restrictions has seen a collapse in demand in local markets for their produce.

    Like so many business, fishermen are facing a very difficult year while the playful seal watches on, oblivious to the stresses of running a business in the era of Covid-19.

    This is not a new battle between two communities, with the fisherman receiving enough support in the 1960s and the 1970s to allow culls of seal colonies. Yet it is all too easy to blame the fishermen for cruelty, while ignoring the methods required to provide affordable fish for supper.

    Joy and Wonder

    As a diver, meeting a seal under water brings great joy and wonder, although on rare occurrences seals take a dislike to the bubble trail divers surround themselves with. Ironically, it’s easier to encounter a seal on a snorkel and held breath, as they don’t perceive a threat from the diver’s bubbles.

    Seals are wrapped up in Irish mythology and lore, with stories of the ‘Selky featuring prominently among most coastal communities.  A Selky is a shape-shifting seal that comes ashore and is transformed into a beautiful woman.

    Lucky fishermen could win themselves a wife by capturing the seal skin and hiding it from the Selky. If the captured Selky found her skin only then would she be able to return to her underwater lair, leaving the fisherman alone and holding the baby!!

    Anyone who has heard the melodic calls of the seals around Dalkey island can well understand why such myths sprang into existence. Seals provide a human tone that could easily deceive the ear. In protecting them around our coastline we are also preserving a part of our own cultural inheritance, as these tales would mean very little we were to drive this species from our waters again.

    Quite recently, while bringing an open water diver on a final dive for their open water course we had the pleasure of being joined on the dive by a playful Grey Seal. The seal stayed with us for over five minutes and watching my student’s eyes I could tell this magical encounter would stay with him for the rest of his life. Hopefully through this interaction a new diver also became a new guardian and advocate of the seal population.

    Farmers Replacing Hunters

    Sandycove in Dublin, beside Dun Laoghaire, like Dalkey Island is home to multiple seals colonies, but with the welcome new cycle lanes divers can no longer park cars near this space, meaning these interactions are frustratingly difficult to avail of. Hopefully a resolution can be found, as divers cannot transport equipment without a vehicle.

    Almost every diver includes stories of encounters with seals among their favourite dives, so it is easy to see why a petition to save the seals would garner such support from within the dive community in such a short time.

    Every year I make a point of revisiting the seal colonies on Dalkey island to see how these friends from my teenage years are getting along. In the last few years I have been delighted to observe the population increasing with nearly forty Grey Seals counted this year.

    If you haven’t had the pleasure of spending time on Dalkey Island yet I again highly recommend it in these pandemic times. It offers an opportunity to see wild animals in their natural habitat while exploring a nature reserve, without leaving the confines of the county.

    In this time of rampant extinction events the playful Grey Seal communities in Ireland stand out as an example of how, with the right steps taken by our political leaders, we can preserve species from extinction. It is also a clear sign that once steps are taken continued care is needed to ensure these creatures survive and thrive.

    The grandfather of scuba diving Jacques Yves said: ‘We must plant the sea and herd its animals using the sea as farmers instead of hunters. That is what civilization is all about – farming replacing hunting.’

    Perhaps other ways to earn a living from the sea may in time become available to fishing communities, and a compulsion to hunt in a destructive manner will decline.

    Hopefully steps can be taken so that a balance can be struck between fishing communities and the seal communities that co-exist along our incredible coastline.

    If you believe in preserving these seal communities that have so recently come back from extinction along our coast please sign the petition by clicking here.

    All Images by Dan Mc Auley, read more of his articles on Ireland’s marine life here.

  • Shipwrecks: Ireland’s Manmade Reefs

    In his first article Dan Mc Auley revealed some of the hidden secrets below Dublin Bay, and a looming threat to that environment. In this article Dan takes us to the mysterious world of shipwrecks around the Irish coastline, of which there are a remarkable 18,000, two of which he has been taking photographs of for nearly twenty years.

    When divers receive their initial certification as Open Water Divers under the PADI training system the next step is the Advanced Diver Programme. This teaches the many different disciplines available in the diving world, including Drift Diving, Photography Diving, Drysuit Diving and Night Diving. There are, therefore, many options available to the newly certified aquanaut, but without doubt the most popular and sought after certification is in Wreck Diving. Wreck Diving offers a snapshot of history on the ocean floor.

    With the combination of a long history of maritime traffic and often quite ferocious seas, it comes as no surprise that the Irish coastline is strewn with shipwrecks, many of which date back hundreds of years. Each one provides a fascinating porthole on a bygone age, telling stories that are often of historical significance, as well as allowing divers a chance to encounter what are often quite intriguing new environments for marine life.

    Shipwrecks are formed when human ingenuity is defeated by the raw force of nature, and often tell a tragic tale.

    Julia T.

    18,000 Shipwrecks

    According to the Underwater Archaeology Unit (UAU), there are over 18,000 shipwrecks along the Irish coastline, which is more than enough to keep even the most gun-ho of ‘wreckies’ (wreck divers) satisfied for a lifetime.

    Obviously not all of these are diveable, or even worth exploring, as their journeys don’t end when they reach the sea bed: the relentless ocean keeps working on these vessels.

    Sometimes in shallow waters they can be quickly broken up into smaller and smaller pieces as waves pummel the steel or wood of the ship against the sea bed. If a ship runs aground in deeper water, however, a slower process begins, as nature slowly reclaims the ship: firstly by turning it into a reef that becomes a refuge to marine life clear of the sea bed.

    This offers a treasure trove of subjects for an underwater photographer, concentrated in an area easily dive-able on one tank.

    As the process of disintegration continues apace, cargoes are often shifted across the sea bed. The story continues with different species of marine life taking up residence in the hulls of the ship, just as sailors had enjoyed that privilege above the surface.

    Hook Head Wreck.

    First a Confession

    With such an array of shipwrecks around the coastline to choose from, it is tough to decide which stories to tell in a single article; I will therefore focus on my two favourites, and explain what makes this pair special to me.

    Before doing so I must confess that I am by no means a true ‘wreckie.’ Rather, I relish the opportunity to photograph the marine life these wrecks attract. This natural profusion is my true love, as opposed to the history of the wrecks themselves.

    A true wreckie would probably want to hear about the Cunard ocean liner RMS Lusitania that was sunk by a German U-Boat in 1915, eighteen kilometres off the Old Head of Kinsale, killing 1,198 and leaving 761 survivors. This appalling loss of life was among the reasons why the United States eventually joined the Allied side during World War I.

    Others would be drawn to SS Laurentic, another British ocean liner of the White Star Line that was converted into an armed merchant cruiser at the beginning of World War I. That vessel sank after striking two mines near the Inishowen penninsula north of Ireland on January 25th 1917, with the loss of 354 lives. She was carrying about 43 tons of gold ingots at the time, and, intriguingly, twenty bars of gold are yet to be recovered.

    Instead the wrecks I have chosen are two that I have dived nearly every year for the past twenty years, and have had a chance to watch at intervals their continued journeys below the waves.

    Julia T.

    Julia T

    The wreck of the Julia T is located in a top secret location off the variegated Mayo coastline, known only to initiates to one of Ireland’s top dive centres, Scuba Dive West.

    A shroud of mystery continues to lie over what brought it to the sea bed. This perhaps emanates from a curious indifference on the part of the Irish state to the value that wrecks offer to divers when these become man-made reefs on the sea bed.

    As a result, nobody knows precisely what caused this ferry to sink to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean in an ideal location at exactly the right depth and area for divers to explore. What we do know is that the ship sank without any spillages or casualties and without causing any environmental damage on July 4th, 1998, while under tow to be decommissioned after a lifetime supplying the Islands communities of Inish Boffin and Inish Turk off the Galway coastline.

    Julia T.

    At over thirty meters in length it was the last in the line of the Clyde-built boats (so-called Clyde Puffers) with a flat bottom to allow for beach landings, which now allows it to sit perfectly upright on the sea bed.

    I have been lucky enough to dive it nearly every year since it first sank over twenty years ago, with each dive offering fresh insights into what happens to a ship once it descends below the waves.

    Situated at an ideal depth for advanced divers of twenty metres, it has provided a perfect training ground for imparting the skills essential for safely exploring wrecks; whetting the appetite of many a newly blooded wreckie to explore other sites along the coast.

    Julia T.

    A Profusion of Life

    Since sinking to the sea floor it has become a safe home for thousands of marine critters, amidst the might of the Atlantic Ocean. In excess of forty exquisite nudibranch, a soft-bodied, marine gastropod mollusc, have been recorded on the wreck on a single dive. Nudibranch appreciation clubs now travel annually to the site of the wreckage to spot these elusive and colourful creatures.

    Shoals of mackerel and cod also often take refuge from the raging seas in the large hull of the ship, while varied species of brightly coloured wrasse fish use the wreck as a nursery for their young, before heading out to deeper water.

    The mighty conger eel has also been spotted lurking in the darker parts of the wreck, along with passing thornback rays on the sea bed around the wreck.

    Over the years more and more filter feeders, like the plumose anenome have carved out a niche in the wreck, as well as the awe-inspiring jewel anenomes that bring a vivid colour to the rust-coloured exterior of the wreck.

    Given the extent of this cornucopia of marine life it is hard to see just where the man-made structure ends and nature now begins. Indeed, the monetary value of the material constituents of the wreck is now a tiny fraction of its value as a dive location, and for marine life. The site now draws hundreds of international divers, and is regularly listed as one of the top dive destinations in the world.

    Julia T.

    Unnamed Trawler

    The second wreck I visit each year is located in much shallower water, barely eight meters below the surface by the beautiful Hook Penninsula in county Wexford. Very little is know about the first incarnation of this unnamaed trawler that sank in the 1960s, as is often the case with ships before they meet the ocean floor.

    This shipwreck lies in the surge zone – constantly pounded by the southerly swells that carved the Hook peninsula itself – meaning its ageing process is starkly different to that of the Julia T.

    On my annual descents I have observed just how rapidly nature is able to reclaim what is left by man. The metallic shell of the wreck is regularly hit with such concussive force that the base elements have actually melded into the stone shoreline, with only the strongest parts now recognisably part of a ship.

    At this stage the engine block sits proudly on the seabed, with the propeller and its drive shaft streaming out of it, giving the impression of a skeleton of a prehistoric sea creature.

    The engine block is an occasional home to spider crabs that come to shallower waters every year to mate before returning to the deep sea.

    Each year offers new insight into the ferocity of the winter storms, demonstrating how the incredible caves and blowholes have been carved over millennia into the unique Hook peninsula.

    This dive, although accessible from the shore, requires divers to go by foot for half-a-kilometre in full scuba gear before taking the plunge. It’s certainly an endurance test, but at least the coastline is a feast for human eyes.

    Hook Head wreck.

    Mapping Underwater

    Over the last few years a project has been completed by the team at Infomar to map the entire under water sea bed in Irish territorial waters, an area which is over ten times the size of our land-based territory.

    This incredible feat harnessed the most recent technological advances, and is an achievement that few other countries can lay claim to. It offers remarkable insights into the wealth of marine life along our coastline, which will hopefully be preserved for future generations to encounter.

    All of this data is easily accessible via Infomar’s website, and anyone with an interest in the secrets below our seas should take a look. So far they have released 3D imagery and articles on 65 of the 18,000 shipwrecks.

    In terms of other resources, there is also a wealth of knowledge contained in the National Maritime Museum of Ireland in Dun Laoghaire, with recovered artefacts on display from what are often tragic shipwrecks. For just a few euros aspiring wreckies can learn about the history of the wrecks they intend to visit.

    Important Insights

    As an underwater photographer shipwrecks will always hold a fascination. Perhaps the most important insight I have drawn from my many visits to these manmade reefs is how quickly nature reclaims the structures that we discard, rapidly transforming our waste into natural capital. Once barren sea beds can even be transformed into incredible ecosystems by what may initially seem to be the intrusion of an alien vessel, practically overnight.

    As we struggle to feed the many billions of human beings on our planet sustainably, it is perhaps worth considering the speed at which the sea converts our waste ships into nurseries for marine life. This process demonstrates how little we really understand about life below the ocean’s surface.