Discoveries on the Reef at Ulua

The pursuit of eels is not usually a high priority when I snorkel. However after four days in the water in northwest Maui, at a diverse range of locations like Honokeana, Honolua, Kapalua, Kahekili, and Napili, and with mostly excellent water conditions, I hadn't seen any of the slithery fish. My travel companion, on the other hand, had encountered several, even identifying two species, the snowflake and white-mouthed moray eels. I guess you could say I was experiencing a bit of eel envy.

Eels are usually easy to find because when they're not swimming close to a reef or amid rocks, they are quite still, their heads protruding from a safe, protected hole or cavity, with their long, mostly finless bodies hidden. Only appearing intimidating to humans, their mouths slowly open and close, actively passing water into their gills.

Of course I had witnessed an abundance of other marine animals like green sea turtles and surgeonfish. I had even found two separate barracudas - firsts for me - lurking in the shadows at Honolua Bay. Amid the many turtles in Honokeana Bay, I discovered another first, a female bridled triggerfish. A short distance away in Kapalua Bay was a striking find in the form of a very photogenic bluestripe butterflyfish, a beauty I've only seen once before, on another Hawaiian Island, Kauai.

I was paying attention, pausing over the reef, investigating corals, peering into crevices, mindful of sea urchins like the spiny and the much less-threatening slate-pencil. Nevertheless, I was only meeting new, less mobile species like lizardfish, hawkfish, and scorpionfish as they hugged their coral perches.

Oh well, c'est la vie, or so goes life on the reef. The first half of my vacation drew to and end and I headed to Wailea, close to Maui's most southern coast. I had visions of eels, eagle rays, and octopi in my head, a few of the more glamorous creatures that had disappointedly evaded me.

Wailea hosts a string of high-end resorts including the Waldorf Astoria's Grand Wailea, the Marriott's Wailea Beach Resort, and the Four Season's Maui at Wailea. Besides the luxury of five-star accommodations and restaurants, these hotels offer access to some of the most beautiful beaches in Maui: Polo, Wailea, Ulua, and Mokapu. My budget only allowed me to rent a townhome at the very northern end of this corner of a millionaire's paradise, at the southern end of yet one more gorgeous and even longer beach, Keawakapu.

However, normal beach activities like sunbathing, boogie boarding, and swimming weren't my interests - snorkeling was how I wanted to spend my time in the water. Fortunately I was within easy walking distance to what might be one of the most fascinating underwater spots on that side of Maui.

The gold-sand beaches of Ulua and Mokapu are separated by an outcrop of volcanic rocks that extends dozens of feet into the Pacific Ocean. Below the surface of the water, the geological feature extends even further in the form of a coral reef. The visibility was terrific the morning I decided to snorkel, when I entered from Ulua Beach, on the north, and made an easy roundtrip swim to Mokapu Beach, on the south.

While I am sometimes prone to exaggeration, I was honestly gobsmacked by my discoveries. By the time I left the water after my first snorkel, I had encountered four species of moray eels; by the next morning, that number was at six different species. In addition to the white-mouthed, snowflake, and zebra, I discovered a brand new (for me) species, the stout, or Abbot's. In addition, far out on the reef in deep water, I watched a new white specimen, maybe a whitemargin or a white ribbon moray eel, wiggle its way under some coral. Alas, an especially large, brown eel remained unidentified even with some excellent close-up photos of its head and gaping mouth.

I was thrilled that an easy dip in the water turned into a deep dive into the diversity of moray eels. My success was probably a testament to the rich waters of Maui and the effort Hawaii makes to protect its marine resources. It probably owed a bit to luck, too. I would have been satisfied if my discoveries had ended with eels, however Ulua wasn't finished bestowing its gifts.

Two new butterflyfish were easy to spot, the sunburst (or bluehead) and the milletseed. Their colors and patterns reminded me why they are in one my favorite families of fish. I noticed starfish, animals I almost never spot. And my close attention to the nooks and crannies of the reef revealed several new hawkfish and scorpionfish, creatures that patiently lie still as they wait for prey.

After my first morning snorkeling at Ulua, as I rinsed sand from my feet at an outdoor shower, I chatted with a woman who had also just been in the water. She was clearly a local, covered from head to tow in a thermal suit that not only kept her warm but protected her skin from the sun. Her outfit also protected the reef from the harmful chemicals in commercial sun blocks.

"Every six weeks or so, one of us finds something here that we've never seen before," she told me about Ulua. Her comments made me feel inexperienced and like a tourist as I was encountering so many new fish at a time.

My novice eye on another trophy fish, I asked the woman if eagle rays were common in the area. "Phil just swam with one this morning, from the reef all the way down the beach." She was referring to Mokapu Beach that lead to my resort, so I thought about swimming back the quarter mile instead of walking. But I was cold and tired and worried that I might be getting greedy with so many fun fish finds.

When I got near my resort, another cluster of lava rocks marked the end of Mokapu Beach. I had warmed up in the mid-morning sun and decided to join several snorkelers investigating the adjacent reef. However I soon discovered the surf was getting choppy, the visibility was deteriorating, and that the reef wasn't nearly as extensive as Ulua.

As I swam back, close to shore, I spotted an octopus trying to hide under a rock. When the critter failed to do so, it briefly assumed the shape and texture, but not the color, of the rock. It didn't linger long, very quickly escaping to deeper water. But still, it reminded me why I was hooked on this little corner of Wailea: every single time I dove in, I was rewarded with a fascinating discovery.