PINELLAS COUNTY I, MAY 30, 1992

As we arrived at the second dive site, Captain Tom shouted down from the bridge, "Turtle off the port bow!" Looking to the southeast, I just caught a glimpse of something large slipping beneath the surface of the water about fifty yards away. A couple of minutes later, I was lucky enough to spot the turtle as it surfaced again. I could see that it had something in its mouth, probably a fish of some sort.

The tension mounted as we prepared our gear for the dive. Would we happen to see the turtle while we were down? Would it avoid us? Why was it surfacing so frequently? I convinced myself that I would be elated just to see her ghostly shape moving in the shadows just beyond the sphere of real visibility. I had never seen a turtle in the water, and didn't think I would ever get very close to one on an openwater dive.

Sam was into the water first, I quickly followed her in and led the way to the anchor-line. On the line, we deflated our BC's and began our descent to the reef. Passing through 30 feet and the density layer of the thermocline, I saw a large shape pass no more than fifteen feet below me; the turtle was on the reef. I reached up to signal Sam where to look, but the creature was gone. We continued our descent, and began to explore.

The reef is composed primarily of concrete refuse (culverts and pilings), but there are the remains of a couple of boats on the site. We spent the first few minutes of the dive checking out the reef's inhabitants: angels, butterflies, grunts, arrow crabs, pencil urchins, Jack Dempseys, etc. While swimming along, I spotted the stern of one of the boats and headed toward it. Crossing the stern, I saw one of the other divers in our party. He appeared to be toying with a small Nurse shark, but I couldn't be sure from that distance. As we closed the gap, I realized that what I had mistaken for a shark was actually a group of remoras. What they were doing hanging around a chunk of concrete in a boat hull had me puzzled.

Without warning, the rock moved. It was the turtle -- not ten feet away from me. Alright! This made the trip. The turtle rose and crossed the starboard side of the hull. Following his motion, I saw where he was going. There was another, smaller turtle only a few feet away, tearing chunks of flesh from what had been a five foot barracuda.

The larger turtle swooped in from above and behind, and rammed the one with the 'cuda. Mouth open, he took a bite at the smaller one's shell. The smaller one dropped the fish and retreated, while the larger one watched briefly before chowing down. But the small one didn't stay gone very long. She cruised back in and gave the big fellow a taste of his own medicine. A chase ensued. We watched the chase closely and with some trepidation -- not wanting to take part in a loggerhead food fight (and possibly give up vital body parts as turtle food).

As these two chased around the reef, a third turtle appeared. I almost swallowed my regulator. One would have given me a story to tell my children about (some time in the next decade or two). Two would have made an impression to last a lifetime. But three? Three turtles was more than I was prepared to accept. One of the others must have just circled around and come back alone. Then it happened. The first two came in from behind us, and settled back down to their meal. All three turtles were in view at once.

Two were small -- with shells roughly four feet wide and six feet long. The other was tremendous. His shell was at least five feet wide and eight feet long. He had fifteen to twenty remoras in constant motion all over his shell, and what shell was visible was covered with barnacles, algae and myriad other flora and fauna. He had the appearance of "the Grandfather of all Loggerheads."

The day before this dive, I had spent nearly an hour in a dive shop -- trying to convince myself that I needed to buy an U/W housing for those convenient little disposable cameras. For $69.95, I could have had pictures of these wonderful creatures. Instead, I have my recollections that I've written here. Sam says that she's going to paint the scene. I know her painting will turn out as good as any picture I could have taken, but I keep thinking how nice it would be to have a photo to go along with this.