Blood and Ice by Robert Masello

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11/11/08

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ROBERT MASELLO

Darryl was below, with a net in one hand and his other hand on a rock the size of a basketball. When Michael came closer, Darryl indicated, with a tilt of his head and a gesture, that he wanted Michael to tip the rock over. Michael let the camera dangle from his neck while he used both hands to push the rock first one way, then the other. When it finally rolled over, a swarm of tiny amphipods, the size of a fingernail, their antennae waving and their many legs pumping, scurried out, many of them landing in the net, which Darryl expertly turned inside out before transferring them to a transparent Ziploc bag. Darryl gave Michael a thumbs-up—as much as could be done, given the thickness of the gloves—then waved good-bye and Michael took the hint. Darryl really didn’t want any extra commotion around him while he was trying to collect his samples and make his observations. Nor did Michael want to be so encumbered. He had his own job to do, his own discoveries to make. He loitered above a clump of what looked like worms, each a yard long, as they writhed atop some nearly consumed carrion, and took some more photos that he would later on ask Darryl to explicate. The light was beginning to fade as he swam farther below the surface and the seafloor gradually yielded to a field of icy pressure ridges, like a gigantic sheet of crumpled white paper. From one side, a dark shape suddenly flashed into view, and as Michael peered through his face mask he saw a pair of big nacreous eyes, surrounded by a brush of long black whiskers, looking back at him. It was one of the Weddell seals, the deepest-diving mammal apart from the minke whale in these waters, and he knew it would do him no harm. As he lifted his camera, the nictitating membrane that protected the cornea contracted, and the whiskers extended out like an opened fan. Ready for your close-up, Michael thought as he clicked off a series of shots. The seal, five or six feet long, flicked one of its flippers and shot past him, looking back the whole while. It loitered then, as if waiting for this strange new acquaintance to catch up, before sailing off again. Okay, Michael thought, I’m game. These, he thought, could be some terrific, and even amusing, shots for his article. He used his fins to take off after it, and the seal—a young one if he was any


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