Old friends return — Norfolk Island's Reef

Out on A Swim

‘Out on a swim’ is a coral reef blog that tells the stories of the characters who live under the waves and what has caught my eye when ‘out on a swim’ in the lagoons of Norfolk Island. It is also a record of the difficulties Norfolk Island’s reef faces, like many others around the world, as a result of the poor water quality that has been allowed to flow onto it.

This page shows the most recent blog posts. For the complete catalogue, visit the ‘Out on a swim index’ page.

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This week in the Norfolk Island lagoons saw some old friends return and some new (to me) visitors that appeared in Emily Bay for the first time. I also paid a visit to the more exposed Cemetery Bay for the first time since wild winds and surf went through earlier this month and last month.

On 16 June, I came across two of our larger parrotfish species – the marbled parrotfish, Leptoscarus vaigiensis and the bluebarred parrotfish, Scarus ghobban – hanging out together just off the Salt House in Emily Bay. I’ve watched both of these individuals grow into adulthood. Having started out in the shallows of Emily Bay, the marbled parrotfish tends to prefer the outer areas of the reef, near to where a channel was previously blasted through the reef. The bluebarred parrotfish is more wide-ranging and less skittish, happy to let me watch as he feeds off the algae using his two fused front teeth. This feature is what differentiates parrotfish from their close relatives, the large wrasse, Labridae, family.

Marbled parrotfish - Leptoscarus vaigiensis

Bluebarred parrotfish - Scarus ghobban

Other welcome visitors included our regular pair of snubnosed darts, Trachinotus blochii. These two love to placidly graze in the shallows at the Lone Pine end of Emily Bay, but I have also seen them in the sandy shallows at Slaughter Bay. One of them has a distinctive nip out of his tail, so I can tell it is the same pair.

The following day I saw a solo convict surgeonfish, Acanthurus triostegus, for the first time in the Emily Bay lagoon. I’ve only ever seen these in Cemetery Bay before, and usually in small schools of the same species.

Snubnose dart - Trachinotus blochii

Convict surgeonfish - Acanthurus triostegus

I also found hiding in plain sight a rather weird looking coral, called Rhodactis bryoides. Once I’d seen one or two, then I saw a whole carpet of them. These were all on the reef immediately adjacent to the Salt House.

Finally, a brief word about Cemetery Bay. I ventured into the water there on Sunday for the first time in perhaps a couple of months. In the intervening time we’ve had those huge swells and surf I mentioned in my nature journal published on 8 June. At the far end, away from the cemetery, the beach has been scoured out, with rocks and sand dumped liberally up onto the grassed area above. In the lagoon it was unrecognisable, with drifts of sand filling the channels, and some smashed coral. Hopefully, over time, the sand will clear naturally. But for the moment it is quite a different scene below water!

Rhodactis bryoides

October 28, 2026

When storms rearrange the reef

Sometimes the sea rearranges a reef in a matter of hours! In the third article of my six-part photographic series, I revisit corals broken, overturned or swept away by powerful swells and storm surges. Some disappeared altogether, while others found surprising ways to survive. Five photographic sequences reveal just how dramatically Norfolk Island's reef can change.

October 26, 2026

When the reef fights back – coral growth and recovery

Not every coral story ends badly! Among six years of underwater photographs are some wonderful examples of growth, survival and recovery. From corals that have grown spectacularly to others that have survived bleaching, breakage or even being turned upside down, this second article in my photographic series celebrates some of the reef's more encouraging stories.

October 24, 2026

The neighbours – six years of watching the same reef

When I began photographing Norfolk Island's reef in 2020, I simply recorded whatever caught my eye. Six years later, those photographs have become a record of individual corals and their changing fortunes – growth, competition, survival and loss. This is the first of six articles looking back at what I've seen, and sometimes what I wish I hadn't.

October 10, 2026

Pulling the rugosity from out of the reef

What do ‘rugosity’, structural complexity and channeling your inner fish have in common? Quite a lot, as it turns out. This week I’m looking at how all the lumps, bumps, branches, holes and ledges on a reef create habitat – with a brief detour into one of my long-standing tricks for navigating tertiary study: write down the jargon until it starts to make sense.

September 27, 2026

How does a sea slug smell?

It started with a close-up of a little Elysia and two rhinophores that looked like tiny rolled-up scrolls. Once I noticed them, I started going back through years of sea-slug photos and realised just how wildly different these sensory organs can be – ridged, rolled, curled, tubular and, in sea hares, distinctly rabbit-eared. So this week’s rabbit hole is all about how sea slugs ‘smell’ underwater, and why their noses come in so many different shapes.

September 19, 2026

The Elite Fleet sails in

Nearly six years ago, my very first blog post was about the strange blue and violet creatures that live at the ocean’s surface – a group I christened Norfolk Island’s ‘Elite Fleet’. Since then I’ve seen plenty of bluebottles and the occasional violet sea snail, but never a by-the-wind sailor. Until this morning. Velella velella is not a true jellyfish, but a colonial hydrozoan with a transparent sail that lets the wind help carry it across the ocean. So what exactly is this extraordinary little creature, how does it ‘sail’, and what connects it to the rest of the fleet?

September 18, 2026

In a nutshell – where I stand on the proposed Norfolk Island Marine Park

I support the proposed expansion of Norfolk Marine Park and its renaming as Norfolk Island Marine Park. There is much to welcome – strong offshore protection, no mining, and recognition of the importance of sustainable local fishing. But I also have some reservations. Why does Cascade need to be removed from the Marine Park at all? How will more than 430,000 km² actually be monitored and enforced? How do we make sure Norfolk people have a genuine role in management? And, above all, how do we ensure that the enormous new park does not draw attention away from the small, stressed reef immediately beside us?

September 13, 2026

No seagrass, but plenty of turtles

Norfolk Island does not have seagrass, although one of our most conspicuous green algae is often mistaken for it. Feather and grape Caulerpa can both form striking patches across the lagoon. I take a closer look at what Caulerpa actually is, why it is so easily confused with seagrass, and where our green turtles fit into the story.

September 6, 2026

Watching El Niño from Norfolk Island

El Niño is strengthening across the Pacific, but that does not tell us exactly what the coming months will bring to Norfolk Island. After a long wet spell, I am watching our rainfall and water supplies more closely again – and, underwater, keeping an eye on sea temperature, algae, coral recruits and the fish that turn up on the reef.

September 2, 2026

What the world’s reefs are telling Norfolk Island

Two major new coral reef reports carry a clear message for Norfolk Island: reefs can recover when pressures ease, but the time available for recovery is shrinking. Norfolk Islanders were raising concerns about water quality, runoff and the health of Emily and Slaughter Bays nearly forty years ago. Today we have much better science, a changing climate and a far clearer understanding of how closely the catchment and reef are connected. This article looks at what that means for water quality, long-term monitoring, dredging and how we manage Kingston from land to sea.