Author: Francesco Turano
An extraordinary encounter: yellow coral. The southern side of the Strait of Messina, the sandy seabed of Pellaro, 54 meters deep: this is the reference point for today's dive, a specific one my friend Filippo recommended to me following a recent accidental discovery. Pellaro Bay, a regular visitor to him, both as a base for diving courses and as a dive site for enthusiasts who want to discover the secrets of an incredible sea (and who are capable of appreciating muddy and seemingly monotonous and insignificant seabeds), is a cove now overgrown with man and concrete, but still, despite everything, on a human scale and, above all, characterized by particularly interesting seabeds due to the presence of strange invertebrates and clouds of trumpet fish.
Recently the good Philip Mallamaci, during one of his dives, he made a very important discovery, I dare say exceptional. Before his eyes, at a depth of 55 meters, a gigantic salmon-colored madrepore, with incredible white polyps, materialized, offering once again an extraordinary spectacle, one of the singular spectacles the Strait has to offer its regular visitors.
Detail of the madrepore polyps, with the elongated tentacles clearly visible, which, combined with the pure white, make the animal extremely elegant and photogenic.
The coelenterate in question, which few divers in the Mediterranean have the privilege of observing, is the Dendrophyllia ramea. madrepore to say little bellissima, which I never thought I'd be able to observe live underwater. To better understand the spectacle that nature offers us lucky divers of the Strait, I must tell you about this truly unique dive! But a brief introduction is necessary. A few days ago, Filippo, a longtime diver and owner of the only diving center in Reggio Calabria, as well as a training school for diving instructors, happened to pass by my office, where I'm finishing up work to open a facility offering various services (photography, environmental education, nature tourism, etc.) to the public. In the display case, he couldn't help but notice the stunning skeleton of a large medrepora: this is what fishermen occasionally haul aboard their boats, using nets, in the stretch of sea off the southernmost part of the province of Syracuse. Here, it's not uncommon for their gear to tear large pieces of Dendrophyllia ramea from the seabed. Mediterranean coral whose morphologically attractive skeleton is then sold to tourists or given as a gift, or which ends up in restaurants, shops or votive shrines that are often seen in many Sicilian towns.
The colony was found 55 meters deep on the sandy seabed of Occhio di Pellaro, clearly visible on an isolated rock.
I too was gifted some branches of this rare and ancient madrepore and I couldn't resist displaying one in my display case, even though I'm against taking it for collections or ornamental purposes. Unfortunately, fishing gear isn't selective, and where this madrepore grows, you might end up with a few pieces or sometimes entire colonies of the so-called yellow or orange coral.
A few years ago, at about sixty meters depth, I was also lucky enough to come across a small colony living of this rare species, with about thirty polyps; enthusiastic, I returned several times for photographic shots and was already very satisfied with the scoop. One of the images of the white-polyped madrepore is published in my latest book (“Calabria, the unknown Mediterranean” – Iiriti publisher). I was always in the Strait of Messina, needless to say, on the southern border, in a place known as Ionian salt pans.
But I didn't have time to tell my diving friends that a net or something had removed the branch from the rock, leaving me with nothing. The other day, however, seeing that branch in the display case, Filippo shared his discovery with me and invited me to dive and document it. Further stimulation, though not necessary, was his video footage: observing the white polyps and that salmon-colored structure, in stark contrast against the azure backdrop of the deep sea, I was fascinated and, to say the least, enchanted by such a natural wonder. This time, however, it was a large colony, perfectly positioned on an isolated rock, a dream for any naturalist diver passionate about photography, videography, or simply captivated by life in the sea.
The large colony of D. ramea, seen from a short distance, contrasts sharply, with its delicate hues, with the dark background of the surrounding environment.
Trying to understand more about this species, I found an interesting article by a Spanish underwater photographer that shed light on the path to follow in my research. Manuel Gosàlvez, with his brief but effective considerations, lets me understand that Dendrophyllia ramea is not so easy to find in the Mediterranean and among the few places where it can be photographed at depths accessible to a recreational diver it is certainly worth mentioning Almunecar, along the coast of southern Spain, near Granada.
Filippo films the splendid and rare invertebrate with his video camera as the rising current agitates its polyps.
Although literature indicates its distribution throughout the western Mediterranean and the Atlantic, between Portugal and the eastern Gulf of Guinea, this coral is only abundant enough in a few places to be considered a species worthy of diving photography. Considering that it is quite rare to encounter it at depths below 30 or 35 meters, except in areas where it is particularly common, it is clear that underwater photographs of Dendrophyllia ramea are very few, and few are the lucky ones who have seen or photographed it alive underwater. But let's return to the Strait of Messina, where a new record has been made and where the species is neither frequent nor abundant. And here we are, facing the sea, with great heat and little wind, ready to begin the dive armed with video and photographic equipment (personally, I once again insist on film, mostly to have some slides to show). A quick nod of understanding and off we go, toward our destination. The muddy seabed flows beneath us, as we navigate with decisive kicks towards our goal; the water is freezing immediately and visibility is fairOn the seabed, along the way, a whole series of living forms pass before my eyes: it almost seems like I'm re-watching the summary of a film, the film that narrates my life underwater, with the overlapping scenes of a weever fish getting stuck in the sand, a mass of tuincati incessantly filtering the water, stars in continuous but imperceptible movement, small, well-camouflaged bottom fish, and then splendid worms clinging to the lines of the moorings used to moor boats in the bay.
A dead coral branch used in Sicily to decorate a votive shrine on the seashore, near the old tuna fishery of Avola (SR).
The seabed beneath us presents a hump perpendicular to the coastline, which becomes increasingly more pronounced as we descend; the back of sand and mud is the result of the action of the currents, which dig here without stopping Dislodging the sediment and creating anomalous and ever-changing sinuosities, while maintaining a dominant appearance based on the most frequent current flows. The hump is populated by numerous species of invertebrates, some visible, others not. The slope is not excessive, as is often the case in the Strait, and it takes us a few minutes to reach the area of the seabed that interests us most, between 45 and 55 meters deep. But when the computer tells us we've passed 40 meters, the water becomes clearer, our hearts begin to beat faster, and on the horizon, the dazzling white of the polyps begins to appear, open and agitated by a gentle current, those pure white polyps that only the Dendrophyllia ramea can boast and display. Approaching the rock with the coral "tree" on it is thrilling: there it is, before my eyes, for the first time after years and years of diving, surrounded by a school of trumpet fish and young anthias, fish that together remind me that this is the Strait of Messina and what I am experiencing is its magic. Even underwater, the Fata Morgana continues to use her magic wand, that fairy that already on the surface bestows thrills on the lucky few who in the early hours of dawn have had the fortune of witnessing those optical phenomena that deceive the eye and enhance the beauty of an already enchanting sea. But what I see now is not the result of deceptive or magical phenomena: the magic in this case is provided by the presence of such a coral!
In the historic center of Noto (SR), it's not uncommon to see jewelry shop windows displaying coral branches. Similarly, in Marzamemi's traditional products stores, large branches are often seen used for decorations and displays, a sure sign of the animal's discreet presence on those seabeds.
What an overwhelming emotionI take a few photographs with the good old Velvia film, jealously guarded on the walls of my Nikon, and I exploit the undoubted qualities of the fifteen-millimeter film, which will still give me the pleasure of having slides in my archive. Digital can wait, I reflect as I shoot, and I savor the moment, circling the rock where the colony lives and seeking out different vantage points. The minutes pass quickly, and Filippo, at my side but at a safe distance so as not to disturb my action, waits his turn and then arrives to capture the madrepore and me, who am photographing. A growing current prompts us to begin the long ascent, and for now we leave the wings of one of the most beautiful and extraordinary underwater stages the Strait of Messina has given me in all these years. On the return journey, I think: what a sea, a treasure chest of exceptionality that never ceases to amaze; an unknown melting pot of biodiversity, where ignorance causes enormous and partly irreparable damage, where even today we fail to understand the value of the resource, the importance of the sea. We divers, a fortunate or unfortunate few depending on your point of view, observe and document, trying to launch desperate cries for help. But we have reached the first decompression stop, and I pause for a moment, my mind reeling from certain distressing thoughts and tired of fighting the current that constantly pushes us toward the bottom.
A branch of D. ramea given to me by a fisherman.
The poetry of this latest immersion ends once again, but once again the indelible mark of another taste of extraordinary "nature" will make us talk at length, study, browse and understand. Not photography for its own sake, but rather the celebration and interpretation of life's beauty, and a study for its conservation. And so I too managed to photograph a large and beautiful colony of a rare and beautiful madrepore; I'll return to photograph it again. I don't know what I'll achieve, but it's the motivation to continue observing and loving my sea.
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