A Better Day's Snorkeling Near Majahuitas

After almost ten months, I returned to Puerto Vallarta. Again venturing south of the city and its crowded resorts, I preferred to explore the wild and verdant coastline. And again, I plunged into Banderas Bay, near Majahuitas, to witness the underwater life with my mask, snorkel, and fins.

However last February, the sea was green and choppy, with terrible visibility. Algae clouded my views of the king angelfish while my sightings of puffers and starfish were mostly thanks to my guide's grabbing the creatures and holding them up to my mask.

I'm happy to say that on my recent December visit the water was much clearer. Maybe it was due to the season, or perhaps it was the skipper's decision to drop anchor at a slightly different location, at a cove a mile or so further down the coast from Majahuitas's beach. Whatever the reason for the improvement in conditions, I was thankful.

The stop was earlier in the morning than last time; the sun hadn't even risen over the jungled cliffs overhead. As a result, the light wasn't ideal for photography. Nonetheless over the half hour I was in the mostly shadowed water, I was able to capture hundreds of shots of many species - some I'd never seen before.

King angelfish again abounded, their bright yellow fins and blue torsos easily recognizable. Yellowtail surgeonfish, sergeant majors, and chubs were also easy to spot. Another prevalent species was a new fish, the Acapulco damselfish, memorable because its coloring was sharply divided between a light front half and a dark rear one.

The crowd of other snorkelers from my same tour boat mostly congregated a hundred feet off shore, in water too deep to spot any sea life near the ocean bottom. I opted to explore closer to the rocky coastline where I could snap shots of fish in shallow water. I was quickly rewarded with a sighting of a large trumpetfish, almost motionless below me. It was also easy to spy a pair of banded butterflyfish as they gently nipped at the algae-coated rocks. Nearby was another familiar species, the Moorish idol.

Most intriguing were the additional new fish I discovered. Easiest to later identify was a spot-fin porcupinefish, another type of puffer. I was also able to name a flag cabrilla, or starry grouper, even though my photos were terrible: the fish's non-stop darting from one protective crevice to the next an impossible challenge.

Alas, the sport of capturing shots of elusive sea creatures is quite frustrating. Meanwhile the science of identifying the animal can be downright impossible. At least two fish I photographed remained unnamed until I only very recently discovered that one was a Mexican hogfish in its initial phase, when it can be either male or female.

The other fish, long with seven or eight vertical white stripes, remains unknown. My picture is too dark and grainy to even guess its color. Yet I'll keep it: a log of my visit, a record of my personal discovery, and one more new wonder in the wild.