Column: Man and Sea – Discovering a new world while snorkeling

February 2026

Petra:

In Belize, we snorkeled out in the ocean with sharks and large fish – here in Guanaja, we can observe the underwater world right from the beach in the inlets. We already did this last April, but since it was such a highlight, we want to do it again. The small island of Michael Rock stands on a rocky bottom, and marine life has spread right along the beach.

Here near the shore, you mainly encounter small fish, but what's truly captivating is their immense diversity. These small fish rarely travel in homogeneous schools; instead, they all swarm and mingle among the corals and rock formations. There are fish in every color, pattern, and shape imaginable. Some dazzle with vibrant hues of purple, blue, yellow, turquoise, red, orange, white, and more, while others are masters of camouflage, only becoming visible against the background upon closer inspection. The parrotfish, one of the largest species found here on the coastal reef, is particularly colorful, shimmering in shades of green, blue, turquoise, yellow, orange, and pink. There are long, slender fish, thick fish, and flat fish – my favorites are the triangular boxfish, also known as cowfish, which are beautifully patterned, and some even have two small horns on their foreheads. They are rarely seen alone. They also possess a unique swimming technique – their fins rotate, propelling them like tiny underwater helicopters.

Besides the colorful, vibrant fish, there are corals in all shapes and colors. The purple fan coral dominates here, its delicate, translucent tissue swaying in harmony with the waves. There are rigid hard corals that protrude like organ pipes, others that resemble vases or large clay pots. Small fish hide from predators in their openings. Among them are soft corals that stretch their arms upwards in the water, also in immense variety. Smooth leaves, furry ones, thick ones, narrow ones – some sway to the rhythm of the sea, others stretch rigidly upwards. Some are rather colorless, others display vibrant yellow, red, orange, blue… On the rocks, tiny Christmas tree worms stretch upwards, looking like miniature saplings of fir trees.

In between are large brain corals that live up to their name, and corals that cling to and between the rocks and look as if they were poured there.

Particularly striking is the elkhorn coral – a sporadically occurring coral of mostly impressive size that looks like a huge shed antler placed on a rock.

All of this is revealed to the snorkeler up close. Some corals and rocks are so close to the surface that you have to swim around them to avoid getting your belly stuck.

It feels like swimming through a huge seawater aquarium; there is movement everywhere, and there is always something new to discover.

I am constantly fascinated by how relaxed the underwater world is towards its visitors. They seem unimpressed by human visitors and continue with their activities – searching for food, mating rituals, defending their territory – so you can observe small chases and displays of aggression among them. Sometimes a school of fish parts around you, and you feel as if you could simply reach out and catch one. But in their element, they are far superior to us – and while we glide sluggishly through the water, they dart busily back and forth.

While marine life usually unfolds below the surface, one species deserves special mention: garfish, which, like snorkelers, swim just below the water's surface. These are slender predatory fish with a long, pointed horn that can reach a considerable size. They lurk just below the surface, waiting for their prey, and occasionally you'll find yourself staring right into their eyes. They don't exactly have a friendly expression and sometimes give the impression that they're reluctant to make way for the snorkeler.

When snorkeling, you quickly lose track of time and space. When the underwater scenery captivates you, you can easily find yourself far from your starting point, and then in the end it's a long walk back to the beach, back to the boat.

I discovered snorkeling here in the Caribbean and feel in my element in the sea, letting myself be captivated by maritime life and carried by the water and waves.

In moments like these, the sea feels like a friend…

Bernd:

I've lost count of the number of snorkeling trips I've taken. There usually wasn't much to see in the Mediterranean; mostly sea cucumbers and a few plants and fish. The invasive lionfish, also known as the scorpionfish, which has become a nuisance everywhere, was a real highlight. Then there were sponges and octopuses in Croatia and Turkey.

Later, in the Canary Islands, the diversity increased. The fish became more colorful, and I began to see the first corals. Rays and turtles particularly fascinated me.

The Caribbean lived up to its promise of a fascinating underwater world. We've been traveling here for over two years now and have explored the underwater world on almost all the islands.

I'm always fascinated by snorkeling on the reefs. The biodiversity of nature is incredible, and the colors of the fish and coral are so vibrant. But what is the state of the underwater world? Coral bleaching, trash, human-caused destruction everywhere?

No, it's not that bad – but it's not a perfect world either. Many reefs are showing signs of coral bleaching, meaning some of the coral has died. One bright spot is that new coral can be found almost everywhere. This is largely due to the efforts of various countries to protect the reefs and to painstakingly cultivate coral regeneration.

I get asked regularly what the best reef was, the most beautiful stop. I don't have an answer. For me, there are many highlights; for me, it's the encounters I have. It's always different and always wonderful to be a guest in this world. Sometimes it's the giant ray gliding leisurely along. Sometimes it's the school of squid that I can observe hunting in formation. These animals are clearly quite intelligent. On the Tobago Cays, I was able to watch the turtles grazing underwater on the endless seagrass meadows, and what really surprised me was that you can hear them smacking their lips as they eat. Recently in Belize, we experienced 2 to 2,5-meter-long nurse sharks up close while snorkeling. I could go on and on.

However, I have gained one insight. It's not the name, like the Jacques Cousteau Reserve on Guadeloupe, the underwater learning tour in the BVI, or the guaranteed best snorkeling spot on some island, that makes a place the most beautiful. It's the reefs off the beaten track, the unplanned surprises, the places hardly anyone ever goes, the ones that are in the best condition, where the coral grows healthy and countless fish thrive.

Humans do indeed have a negative impact on nature, especially when they appear in large numbers. Therefore, we should always be particularly careful and try to leave no trace.

To be fair, I should point out that we saw miles of reefs that had been destroyed by nature itself. A hurricane or a powerful storm can shatter entire reefs and leave behind an underwater wasteland for decades.

Outlook: We're currently on our way to the Cayman Islands. I read in the guidebook, "The Cayman Islands are the best diving and snorkeling spot in the western Caribbean, with crystal-clear water and a breathtaking underwater world." The South Pacific, on the other hand, promises to be even better, even more magnificent.

I'm excited to see what else I'll experience underwater. Maybe even swimming with hammerhead sharks…