Miles from the shores of Kona, Hawaii and over 5,000 feet of ocean, I tried to keep my composure and my lunch down as the boat pitched in the dark. We were about to embark on one of the most unusual scuba dives in the world – a blackwater night dive to witness a diurnal vertical migration. Or simply put, we were going to float in a black abyss and watch animals emerge from the deep sea to feed near the surface. We did a round of introductions, which went fairly quickly since there were only three clients on board – Markus, my dive partner, and me. Markus had just become open-water certified, which is the minimum requirement for recreational diving. Markus thought he had signed up for the manta ray night dive during which divers sit on the shallow ocean floor while manta rays glide above them. Obviously, there had been some miscommunication and Markus had no clue what he was in for. The blackwater dive is an advanced dive that takes place in the late evening, well after the sun and natural light have disappeared from the skies. Outfitters typically require divers to have at least 50 logged dives to go on this adventure. Excellent buoyancy control is a must because divers float thousands of feet above the ocean floor. To make things even more exciting, there was a significant current and the crew deployed an underwater parachute to anchor the boat to the current. Most outfitters use tethers to keep divers attached to the boat so they don’t accidentally drift away or sink to the bottom. Ours did not. This was wonderful news for my partner and me since we would have more freedom to explore; this was bad news for Markus who would be doing his first-ever night dive. The divemaster briefed us on safety and logistics before we leapt into the dark waters below. There’s this incredible feeling of weightlessness that takes over whenever I dive into the water, and that night was no different. There I was, floating in the dark abyss, maintaining my buoyancy at about 50 feet which was the ideal depth to see these nocturnal creatures. As I turned on my 4,800-lumen dive light, a whole other world revealed itself to me. Blackwater diving allows divers to see the world’s largest migration as animals come up from the mesopelagic zone to the surface for food. They are generally in the “settling” stage of their life cycle at the larval level, and often look like tiny versions of their adult selves. I saw bioluminescent jellyfish, squid, shrimp, and fish – many the size of a large coin or smaller. I saw a string of lights zip across the body of an invertebrate and alien-like creatures emerge from the darkness. Essentially, I witnessed a tiny underwater electrical parade. As we explored the waters on this subaquatic safari, I often found myself chasing a pinkie-sized flounder or a quarter-sized squid and then reorienting myself back to the boat. I always had a general idea of my partner’s location as he made his own discoveries because we were ultimately responsible for each other’s safety. I did occasionally worry about Markus, though. After an hour of watching this bioluminescent parade, we all emerged from the dark waters and plopped back onto the deck of the pitching boat. I was teeming with excitement over this magical encounter with underwater nightlife. Markus, on the other hand, didn’t have such a magical experience. In fact, it was terrifying. Markus never properly oriented while underwater and even hit his head on the bottom of the boat. He hardly noticed the marine life because he couldn’t even tell up from down. Markus seemed ready to write-off night diving altogether. Hopefully with a bit more experience, he’ll try again. Exploring new terrain and discovering creatures I didn’t know existed reinforced my love for diving in dark waters. Watching tiny bioluminescent creatures pass by on their journey for survival served as a reminder of just how precious and beautiful life really is. There was something truly magical about floating in the abyss, knowing that these small creatures and I were mere specks in a vast ocean.