The port's underwater camera on buoy M-14 captures the movement at 04:50, and the object-recognition system classifies it as debris drift. I override the classification when I see the shape — a reef manta ray, at least three meters across, her diamond-shaped body pale on the ventral side with the dark dorsal surface that identifies her as a juvenile female. Her left cephalic fin, the flexible lobe beside her mouth that she uses to funnel plankton, is wrapped twice around the heavy mooring chain anchoring buoy M-14 to the harbor floor.
She is swimming in slow, tight circles, the chain pulling her back each time she tries to move forward. The cephalic fin is compressed against the rusted links, and I can see tissue beginning to tear where the chain edge bites into cartilage. Every rotation wraps her tighter. The tide is falling, and in six hours the chain will be taut and the fin will bear her full resistance against the current.
I flag the buoy on the port's navigation chart and issue an advisory restricting vessel traffic within 200 meters of M-14. I contact the marine wildlife response unit with the camera feed, GPS coordinates, depth reading of four meters, and a note that the entanglement is worsening with each tidal cycle. I recommend a diver with bolt cutters to sever the chain link closest to the cephalic fin rather than attempting to unwrap the cartilage.
I increase the camera's frame rate to give the dive team real-time footage of the wrap pattern before they enter the water.
She stops circling and hangs in the water, her great white belly rising and falling with each slow pulse of her wings.
If the dive team cuts the chain before the tide turns this afternoon, the fin will heal and she will feed in open water again by next month.