March 9th-11th—The pack ice that had been right up to the shoreline here in Rausu has moved farther offshore. Its movement is affected by wind and currents, and it can move quite a distance in a day. With the ice offshore, I decided to shift gears and concentrate my photography on the winter marine life of Hokkaido. Seki-san has told me that in winter, when the ice forms, many of the animals found here during other months move into very deep water. But there are still plenty of interesting creatures to see and photograph.

So for three days we dive from the beach in search of the critters that thrive in these frigid seas. A typical dive takes us over a smooth stone bottom in shallow water, and gradually we move deeper, over sea grass and kelp, then drop off to dark volcanic sand. We usually go down to about 80 to 90 feet and search a wall covered with invertebrates for tiny fish and other small animals. One of the species I am especially interested in shooting is an animal called a lumpsucker. At this time of year babies can often be found at depths of 60 to 90 feet. They are very small, about the size of a thumbnail, and usually seem to be orange or red in color. We have found several during these three days, and I absolutely love these little guys. They remind me of Picachu in the Japanese cartoon PokeMon, with expressive little faces. The one’s I’ve been trying to photograph, however, have not been very cooperative, as they always seem to be facing in the wrong direction. I can spend only about 20 to 25 minutes at the deepest portion of the dive, so I keep hoping I’ll find a lumpsucker just sitting pretty on a starfish or colorful piece of seaweed. Hasn’t happened yet!

Photography by Mauricio Handler

I can’t help think how absurd this would seem to so many people, and probably truly is absurd. I spend about 30 minutes getting dressed with all this gear, then barely able to move, walk down a rocky beach praying I don’t fall on my face. I fight to get my fins on over my boots, then grab my camera housing and swim down to ninety feet chasing a fish the size of a shirt button. Today Mauricio, Seki and I found a lumpsucker at a depth of 87 feet that was swimming along the wall. To get the picture I wanted, we waited 15 minutes for it to settle down on the bottom, but it never did. So, … we moved on in search of another.

In three days I have managed to shoot a handful of frames of these little guys and will continue to keep trying. There are of course, other subjects in these waters, all of which make for great images. One of the coolest, are baby Alaskan King Crabs. These are miniature versions of the giants found in cold, pacific waters like here in northern Japan and of course Alaska. I’ve seen some during my dives that were small as the size of a nickel and others as big as a book of matches, but all pretty small compared to what they will become. They seem to usually be hunkered down on a starfish or backed up against a sea anemone. Their orange bodies are covered with spikes like a medieval mace and I can see their eyes watching me as I move in for a tight macro shot.

I have noticed that as cold as this water is, I don’t seem to feel it when I am shooting. As long as there is a subject in front of me and I’m working to make a picture, I am warm. But as soon as I leave a spot and begin swimming to search for subjects I really feel the cold. Seki-san clearly is made for these conditions. He wears a simple neoprene drysuit with wet mitts and dives day after day after day. He is fantastic in the water, as is Ayako a woman that works for Seki-san and both are masters at locating the smallest of animals underwater. I often find myself thinking about the amazing people I’ve come to know during my career. I parachute into their lives and spend a month or two then leave. But in so many places I’ve met folks like Seki-san. People that live for the sea and have incredible talents underwater. I owe so much to all these people, as making my pictures would never be possible without them. The same is true of people like Mauricio and Hiro, who are proving to be invaluable on this project. Every day there are so many things to be done, from gathering key information to repairing equipment to making sure we have hot soup for lunch. Having great people working with me frees me up to concentrate on the images, which is what I am here to do.

Between dives we rest and get warm in a small house Seki-san has built on the beach. It has a room for dressing and undressing and a hard wood floor room with a stove for relaxing. We have our lunch in here and soak up the heat before the next dive each day. Despite the frozen, numb fingers and toes underwater, I have to say that I love this place. Sitting on the floor in the beach house between dives, sipping miso soup and watching the snow fall outside is the best. Maybe chasing lumpsuckers around at 90 feet is absurd, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Photograph by Hiro Drogin

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