What Lies Beneath
An exploration of the Boscombe Surf Reef. Words and photography by Kat Lewis.
No matter how many times I swim out to the surf reef in Boscombe, the sight of it looming, dark and imposing, above the sand always catches me by surprise. Today is no different. I have an involuntary start as I see the as-yet indistinguishable dark shape appearing out of the rippled sand.
I pause, lift my head briefly out of the water to ensure I am indeed in the right place, then continue swimming towards it. The closer I get, the more relaxed I become.
What previously looked dark and scary now looks colourful and vibrant. I feel a thrill of excitement as I wonder what I’ll see on and around the reef today. Visibility isn’t wonderful, but I’m close enough to low tide that the reef isn’t too far below me. It looks magical as the early morning sunlight penetrates the surface of the sea, dappled patterns dancing on the weed that covers the top of the reef.
There are green and red seaweeds swaying in the gentle current on the top of the reef, with occasional brown spikes of branchy weed that look a little like miniature weathered trees. My eyes travel to the sides of the sandbags, which look almost furry. They too are covered in life – a mix of seaweed and sessile animals like tunicates, hydroids and even the occasional mussel.
It doesn’t take me long to spot a clump of lightbulb tunicates, clinging to the side of the reef, and almost glowing in the early morning light.
As I swim slowly over the lumpy canvas that nature has artfully redecorated, my eyes pick up on the darting movements of small ballan wrasse as they move amongst the weed. As I float, near motionless, over a shallow part of the reef, I spot something moving slowly over the edge of the reef, just a couple of metres below me. I take a deep breath and dive down to get a closer look – I almost squeal in excitement to see a candy stripe flatworm, its paper-thin body undulating in fluid waves as it moves.
Further along, I see what looks like a clump of seaweed moving purposefully – closer inspection reveals it to be one of the many spiny spider crabs that, while large, are surprisingly well camouflaged on the reef itself, with bits of weed and algae growing on their shells and providing the perfect cover. They amble along, like ungainly ninjas, stealthily scavenging for food.
Next I see the unmistakable and beautiful waving tentacles of a snakelocks anemone as I drift. I take another deep breath to dive to inspect one of the crevices under the sandbags, where I’m met by the bright red eyes of a blue velvet swimming crab, which waves its claws at me in a feisty show of defiance.
I break the surface, shooting water out of my snorkel as I clear it. When I lift my head to check my position, I look back at the peaceful beach and quiet promenade, feeling incredibly lucky that I not only get to see so much wonder and magic beneath the sea, but also that this is literally a short walk from my home.
There’s a world of beauty and curious creatures beneath the surface. All we have to do is take the time to pause and look (and get wet).
