The problem with trying to photograph fish here is that the coral cover of the reef is so good that the fish just keep moving. There are very few spots where the movement of fish is localised to isolated coral heads. 9 out of 10 times I am trying to focus on a fish only to loose it as it mixes round amongst its friends. I am suffering some of the same problems a hungry barracuda must have to face.
Drifting along the north side of the island, coral outcrops and tightly packed coral heads stand on a slope of dark volcanic sand. Bright orange and yellow cup corals, the usual feather stars, small table and cabbage corals, and an incredibly busy horde of fish.
It takes me a few glances before I can pick a turtle out resting on the dark sand. I loop round and sneak in. This one is not too nervous and I manage to get 3 or 4 shots off before it lazily rises and flaps away.
The next surprise is a sea snake. The nice thing about the sea snake is that it totally ignores me. It doesn't swim off and it doesn't hide like the fishes annoyingly do. I have plenty of time to wait for it to get its head out of a hole and slither along a bit while I take photographs.
The next distraction is a shoal of jacks. Normally something to stop and admire, but this time I take a brief look then ignore them. I had od'd on jacks on a previous dive with one of the densest shoals I had ever seen. Hundreds of jacks packed shoulder to shoulder at Mamya point on the east side of the island.
As we pass the jacks I can just make out 3 large barracuda in the distance. I try to get closer but they stay a good 10 metres away. It looks like today is not going to be a barracuda day, but who cares; turtle, sea snake, gorgeous reef, and hordes of colourful fish. I could quite happily miss the barracuda.
Apo island is a small volcanic hump rising from the sea 5 miles off the southern tip of the larger island of Negros. The marine reserve began as a project of the Silliaman University in 1985. The islanders took some convincing, but are now firmly in favour of the reserve. The island's fish stocks have improved, fishermen's catches are up and they have the added bonus of jobs and income from diving tourism.
Anchoring is prohibited all round the island, apart from two beaches where the locals launch their bancas. Fishing is restricted to single lines and fish traps. No nets, no long lines, and certainly no dynamite or cyanide. Off one lagoon is a total sanctuary area, with no boat traffic and no more than 8 divers per day.
We go for an early dive to get the sanctuary to ourselves before anyone else arrives. From the surface we can see the usual morning current drifting along the wall. Our boatman cuts the banca's engine and drifts along parallel to the beach.
It is only a few metres deep and we are right on a group of coral heads known as clown fish city. A dense carpet of anemones covers tens of square metres of reef, with sprigs of live coral poking through.
Whereas most coral heads have clouds of resident antheas or damselfish, here there is a cloud of aggressive clown anemone fish. As I aim my camera I have to fend off bold attacks on my fingers.