Polyp's-eye view of a crown-of-thorns starfish (Acanthaster planci). If you were a coral colony, seeing this 'Death Star' on the horizon would be bad news. (Otto's Reef, Kimbe Bay)
Close-up of the poisonous spines that protect the infamous crown-of-thorns starfish. These coral-eating echinoderms have ravaged certain reefs of the Indo-Pacific, triggering much debate as to whether their periodic population explosions (and subsequent coral damage) are natural or influenced by human activity (or both). (Otto's Reef, Kimbe Bay)
Crown-of-thorns starfish at work on a coral head. Crown-of-thorns starfish are a natural presence on reefs, and coral damage only becomes severe when their numbers increase. Well-meaning divers who cut these stars up and throw them back in the water unknowingly contribute to these numbers (like many starfishes, these ones can grow new individuals from pieces of a cut-up star). If you do handle one of these stars, be very careful — their spines are equipped with defensive chemicals and puncture wounds can apparently be quite excruciating. (Otto's Reef, Kimbe Bay)
I was surprised to see just how big these rapacious starfish are — not exactly your basic cute little starfish. If you see one of these beasties, it's not a sign that the reef you're on is somehow doomed. A certain number of crown-of-thorns is natural and they're as integral a part of a pristine reef system as any other animal...it's when their numbers reach plague proportions that there's a problem. (Otto's Reef, Kimbe Bay)
A relatively colorful example of a cushion star (probably Culcita novaguineae) on the barrier reef. The smaller dark star beside it may be Echinaster luzonicus. Most starfishes have five arms but this species is one that has six (some species have even more), one of which is regenerating from an earlier amputation. (Milinat Pass, Madang)
A cushion star (Culcita novaguineae) perched atop fine formations of coral in the shallow waters that surround a tiny islet. (Cape Heussner, Kimbe Bay)
A closer view of the same cushion star. (Cape Heussner, Kimbe Bay)
A brittle star (Ophiothrix purpurea?) on a large sea fan at about 50 m beneath a seamount's ledge. A shrimp is also — almost inevitably, given their ubiquitousness — visible in the frame. I was looking at this particular seafan because Andrew — divemaster extraordinaire of the FeBrina — saw a pygmy seahorse on it during an exploratory dive about 30 minutes earlier. Pygmy seahorses were first seen in Kimbe Bay during 1997 (whether they arrived with the conditions brought by El Niño or were there all the time but just never noticed is an open question) but had apparently not been seen for quite a while before my trip there, so Andrew's discovery was especially exciting. Unfortunately, we never found the little fellow on my dive, and the long time that I spent at that depth forced me to hurry to my decompression stop (and miss exploring the rest of one of my favorite reefs). Still, it was worth a try! And, of course, it was yet another reason for a return to Kimbe Bay...and in 2003 I finally saw pygmy seahorses during a dive in the Kavieng area. (Joelle, Kimbe Bay)
A brittle star's fine tendrils interlace with the branches of a brilliantly red nephtheid soft coral on the slope of an oceanic reef complex. (May Reef, Kimbe Bay)
An unidentified basket star at night, perched on the delicately-colored soft corals that rim the railing of a sunken tugboat. Basket stars are nocturnally active and tend to hide during daylight hours — they're basically a brittle star that's developed net-like arms to capture planktonic prey. (Henry Leith, Madang)