by Robin Noble Photos by Robin Noble and Martine Howard
As I have reported before, we spend many of these hotter, humid days at sea, normally heading down the coast into Spanish waters. The cliffs are truly dramatic, almost savage, but there are several tiny, almost invisible little bays with fine shingle beaches, and, on calm days, some lovely swimming.
As I have reported before, we spend many of these hotter, humid days at sea, normally heading down the coast into Spanish waters. The cliffs are truly dramatic, almost savage, but there are several tiny, almost invisible little bays with fine shingle beaches, and, on calm days, some lovely swimming.
Much of our time has been spent getting to know the many fish on the Marine Reserve out of Banyuls, but there are other things of interest, too.
I must confess we have spent little time on the various brown seaweeds at the foot of the cliffs, and the all-too-many black and spiny sea-urchins really worry me, but, in brilliant contrast, Martine has recently photographed some bright red starfish, on the move across the seabed. The one illustrated here seems to have got into some sort of yoga position, but is certainly a rather handsome specimen.
I must confess we have spent little time on the various brown seaweeds at the foot of the cliffs, and the all-too-many black and spiny sea-urchins really worry me, but, in brilliant contrast, Martine has recently photographed some bright red starfish, on the move across the seabed. The one illustrated here seems to have got into some sort of yoga position, but is certainly a rather handsome specimen.
While I was recently splashing around in one of our favourite little coves (which is backed by some magnificent rocks) I did observe that along the sea's edge on some of the more sheltered rocks, there some big, red beadlet sea anemones, roughly similar to those familiar from British coasts but somewhat larger. And, later, I noticed that some largish, flatter rocks, three or more feet under the surface, were pale, a sort of sandy-white in colour. The water is nearly always wonderfully clear, and I headed back to the boat to get my goggles, put my head under and get a proper view of whatever was causing this coloration. And having done that, I had to return to the boat for the little underwater camera in order to photograph it!
I hope the result is clear enough to give a good impression of this delicate, miniature, undersea garden which I saw there, and which I found quite entrancing. On close inspection it looks like a dense collection of tiny, delicate, white parasols and, according to the invaluable book "Marine Wildlife of the Mediterranean" (which we have mentioned before), it is a seaweed which goes by the poetic name of "mermaid's wine-glass"; the latin is less interesting perhaps- acetabularia acetabulum! The book says that it can be greenish, but what I saw was really all white, as was another seaweed around the place, again quite small, but delicate and this time "whorled" (does the word exist?) like a shell: the "peacocks's tail", padina pavonica. This I have seen growing larger and more abundantly around some Greek Isles, and it is great to be reminded of all the wonderful places within the compass of this Mediterranean Sea. We are so lucky!
