Sophie Coxon - A moment with Maldivian Manta Rays!
The sea was a thick, opaque blue. We were about to start a safety stop after collecting coral substrate data along the harbour reef slope, laden with transect lines, quadrats, cameras and dive slates. The water was turbid, and the day had been long, but we had collected the data we needed and everything had gone smoothly enough. Little did we know our minds were about to be blown.
A dark shadow, like a cloak, drifted in and out of focus through the water. Its ephemeral appearance was phantom-like, almost intangible, until it got closer and we realised what it was. The elegant form of a manta ray billowed in the distance, soon joined by another, like drapes of black fabric set free from a line. The majesty and grace that followed their movements, breaking the surface before dipping and swooping, gliding back down beneath us in giant arcs, seemed choreographed, a performance, white underbellies glowing as rows of perfect gills fluttered in the current. The water clarity was cloudy, almost milky with plankton after last night's rain, but it didn’t take from the moment - instead adding an ethereal haze, everything in soft focus like an old film. The mantas moved towards us, curious and playful, as we hung in the water column, eyes wide in awe.
One of them looped down and came up underneath me, wings spread wide, open mouth gaping. We shared a gaze, a moment of connection. I saw then, behind the glossy black orb of an eye, the essence of a soul. The manta ray’s curiosity was captivating, and I could feel her conscious effort to interact. These are not robotic organisms, brain dead, unfeeling - these are animals similar to ourselves, sentient and intelligent. I floated next to her, unbreathing, caught in this moment of stillness as my path crossed hers.
We were suspended there in her kingdom - a place under siege from all sides - that is naturally in a constant state of change, though now in the steady direction of decline and degradation. I wondered how she felt, as her world got hotter, less predictable, more difficult. The constant search for refuge, the uncertainty of when or where the next meal will be. Maybe there is a freedom in that - but there is also risk, and the chance that tomorrow might not exist.
Manta rays are one of the Maldives most notable species, attracting tourists and divers from the world over to experience the impressive displays these creatures put on. Mantas are also deeply embedded in Maldivian culture, used as symbols of spirituality and freedom, and thought to represent luck and prosperity when sighted. Mantas are also regarded as useful indicators of nutrient rich waters by local fishers, who seek out these areas for increased catches due to the high numbers of tuna and other large fish species which congregate to feed there. Since 1995, Maldivian manta rays have been protected under strict regulations, and are viewed as a valuable asset within the archipelago.
However, the species remain threatened by a number of pressures; climate change, pollution and human disturbance put constant pressure on manta populations, making long-term study of known groups hugely important. The mantas we met today may well be undocumented - after close analysis of the photos and videos, identification of each individual is possible enabling changes in behaviour and distribution to be closely monitored, supporting new policies and protections which may be needed. The Maldives has recently banned long line fishing, a huge step forwards in conserving marine megafauna such as mantas by reducing entanglement and bycatch, but conservation work is never finished, and ensuring pelagic and migratory species - such as manta rays - is challenging.
