They often tell us that the seafloor is a wasteland. To the naked eye, or through the lens of those looking to profit from it, the vast stretches of sand off our coasts are described as “biological deserts.” But yesterday, diving in the waters of Bream Bay, I saw something else.
I was invited to join a group of marine scientists for a recreational survey in an area currently proposed for a sand mine. What we found wasn’t a desert—it was a nursery, a sanctuary, and a testament to the resilience of nature when we simply give it the space to breathe.
Signs of recovery
Our first dive took us to a spot where previous “dropcam” footage had hinted at life. As we descended, the reality exceeded our expectations. There were so tipa / scallops, everything from tiny juveniles to full-grown adults. Since this area was closed to scallop dredging on October 27, 2022, the ecosystem has begun to knit itself back together. In a world where we often hear only of environmental decline, seeing this rapid recovery was electric. As we surfaced, the lead marine biologist couldn’t hide his excitement: “Best dive ever!”
The moving seafloor
On our second dive, we followed a fish finder signal to a new spot. As I photographed the sand using my macro lens, I realised the sand was alive. The density of tubeworms was so high that the entire seafloor seemed to wriggle with life. These small creatures stabilise the sediment, filter feed, are attachment structures for juvenile scallops and food for fish.
Grab samples
In between dives we used a grab sampler to look at the infauna, it was cool to see the little shellfish living in the sand but the highlight for me were the larger wiggling polychaete worms which I don’t often see.
An even better dive
At the end of the planned transect we discovered a low, flat outcrop of soft, peaty rock. It looked unassuming at first, but it was home to something I never expected to see in my lifetime.
Tucked into this small shelter was a huge pod of over 40 large packhorse rock lobsters. To find one or two of these creatures is rare, as they have been heavily overfished for decades. To see a pod of forty—mostly large males congregating together—was breathtaking. Sharing that space with them were juvenile and adult blue cod, goatfish, juvenile snapper and tiny larval fish.
This area is not only protected from seasonal scallop dredging since 27th of October 2022, but has been protected from bottom trawling for more than 40 years.
Memory in the water
Packhorse lobsters are known to navigate using the Earth’s magnetic field. Watching them as they traced their feelers over my face and shoulders I couldn’t help but wonder: how did they find this tiny, specific patch of safety in a vast ocean? Is it possible that the memory of these safe havens is passed down through generations?
If we allow sand mining to tear up this seafloor, we aren’t just removing “sand.” We are destroying navigational landmarks, generational homes, and a vital link in the marine food chain.
Nothing there
There is a profound disconnect between what the scientists showed me and what industry describes. When pushing for extraction permits, proponents often downplay the biological value of the site. For instance, Callum McCallum, Managing Director of McCallum Bros Ltd, has previously justified mining by stating:
“It’s a very high-energy, mobile environment. To the naked eye, there is nothing there.”
After four surveys in this area, I can say with certainty: there is something there. Every time I go down, I find something more precious, more rare, and more worth saving.
We don’t need to “extract” value from Bream Bay. The seeds are already there, living and breathing beneath the waves. We just need to be quiet enough to let it recover.
