Attack Of The Lionfish

I was thrilled the first time I headed to Grand Cayman as a diver, with my certification card and nearly empty logbook in tow. Even years before I earned my open water certification in 2011, I had been fascinated by what could lie beneath the surface of the ocean.

Between the reefs, fish and wrecks, the possibilities for exploration are nearly limitless. I earned my open water certification in the frigid waters off of Cape Ann, Massachusetts. Although the lobsters, crabs and occasional bass found in those waters could be interesting, I yearned to dive the warm, colorful waters of the Caribbean, where I had snorkeled on past vacations.

On my first few dives in Grand Cayman, I was overwhelmed by the 80-degree water, near-perfect visibility and endless marine life. Just a few days into the trip, however, I also learned about our part in protecting the reefs from lionfish.

Initially, they looked like just any other picturesque tropical fish to me. This changed once I learned more from our divemaster, and as I soon witnessed for myself the damage lionfish can cause to indigenous life. Though I'm opposed to killing anything on the reef or in the ocean, I was neither shocked nor disgusted when the divemaster began spearing whatever lionfish we came across and feeding it to the fish that belonged there. Although lionfish are certainly a threat, I was comforted knowing that many dive pros were devoted to eradicating this alien species from their waters.

Over the last two summers, I have been fortunate enough to participate in programs with Odyssey Expeditions. In 2012, I spent three weeks on a 46-foot catamaran in the British Virgin Islands with a dozen other teens and three instructors. Over those weeks, we sailed throughout the BVI. The diving was great, and throughout the trip, the number of lionfish I saw could be counted on one hand. Similar to Grand Cayman, the divers had helped control the population.

For my 2013 trip I flew into St. Lucia and jumped aboard a 46-foot catamaran with a similar number of divers and instructors. As we did our refresher dives, I felt at home diving the warm, relatively clear waters, seeing a wide variety of life, and was happy to see a lack of lionfish. Perhaps due to St. Lucia’s tourist popularity and the fact that divers come here often and are encouraged to help in the lionfish battle.

As we sailed further south we noticed a slight change. We made our way to St. Vincent and the Grenadines and it was evident that while the area doesn't receive the same volume of tourists as St. Lucia or Grand Cayman, it also has less help from divers to fight off the lionfish.

Along with our drift diver certifications, all the students on my boat earned our PADI Underwater Naturalist certifications. This was a welcome addition for me, and as my fourth specialty, it brought me closer to the PADI's Master SCUBA Diver certification. After I had read through the course, however, I realized it was much more than just a number toward a larger goal. By the end of the naturalist course, we all better understood the kinds of relationships that exist in the ocean, and why some, like those between lionfish and native fish, can be so harmful.

In St. Vincent the lack of boatloads of divers arriving at sites day after day create unique opportunities to interact up-close with marine life that would dart away from you in more visited locations. But this absence of tourism, and the large dive community that would accompany it, also means that lionfish are free to grow rampant.

What can we do as divers? Dive St. Vincent.

The diving there is phenomenal, with something for all kinds and levels of divers: breathtaking walls, pinnacles, wrecks, drift dives, and largely pristine reefs. If you have not yet traveled to St. Vincent and the Grenadines, I highly recommend it. By doing so, you will even help to solve the lionfish problem, one dive at a time.