The Attack of the Needlefish: Incident at St. John's Reef
A night dive in Egypt turns into an accident.
This is the story of what happened to me during a Liveaboard in the fascinating waters of St. John’s Reef in the far South of Egypt. I had an experience that will mark me and that I am sharing to inform about the potential danger of some situations.
August 20, 2025, we were almost at the end of our two-week cruise, and the air was sparkling for the scheduled dive: a night dive in the remote reef of “Paradise”. As the person in charge, I had to accompany a small group of friends underwater.
The pre-dive briefing had been simple: we would reach the reef, which was rather rather distant from the boat, following the “shamandura” that connected, at the water’s surface, the stern to the reef itself.
At just one meter deep, along the way and with the reef still not visible, my beam of light revealed a motionless figure: perpendicular to the line, like a sentinel, a large specimen of Crocodile Needlefish (Tylosurus crocodilus) was stationed, probably between one meter twenty and one meter thirty in length.
I had never encountered a needlefish of that size so up close: initially, its size had made me think of a large barracuda.
The Needlefish is known to be a very fast predator and, in rare cases, dangerous to humans, as it can cause serious injuries with its pointed beak. Giulia Manfrini, the Italian surfer who was killed in Indonesia in 2024 is a recent example.
I stopped and called the attention of the divers following me, convinced I was offering them a unique spectacle.
As the group gathered, I kept the fish illuminated with the flashlight, using, as always, a low light intensity so as not to bother it. For a few moments, the needlefish remained perfectly still. Then, slowly, it began to move towards us.
When it got to about a couple of meters from us, it moved away from the line, positioning itself parallel, at our side. It was at that moment that we understood that its attitude was no longer one of curiosity. The two girls closest to me, sensing danger, instinctively moved behind me. After a few seconds of total immobility, all hell broke loose: with unimaginable speed, the needlefish shot off like a bullet in my direction. I didn’t even have time to raise an arm to protect myself and it hit me full in the face. I heard a sharp blow and, even though I felt no pain, when I saw a cloud of blood in front of me, I realized the seriousness of the situation: my cheek had been pierced by the fish’s beak.
In a few moments I was at the surface, swimming towards the stern, where I found the wonderful crew ready to assist me with professionalism.
Once treated, the diagnosis was clear: the wound was deep and my cheek was literally open. The result? Eleven stitches, masterfully applied, directly on a sofa in the dinette, by Nirvana, an expert surgeon, and my guardian angel, who was fortunately on vacation with us.
Crocodile Needlefish, caught a Ras Mohammed (taken from Facebook)
Regardless of the recovery process, which will surely take some time, one thing is certain: the passion for the sea, and for its inhabitants, has not been diminished. In fact, I am already ready to go back underwater and I can’t wait to dive again right in those Egyptian waters that I love so much.
But what did this experience teach me? What could I have done differently?
In hindsight, I should have recognized the animal’s signs of territoriality sooner: its initial immobility and the subsequent, slow approach were not an invitation, but a warning.
Probably, the best solution would have been to move away slowly, without turning my back on it, and guide the rest of the group to a safe distance.
This episode reminded me of a fundamental lesson, one that I know well after more than 30 years of diving: we are just guests in the underwater world. It is their home, and we must adapt, learning to interpret the signals and to respect their spaces. Especially at night, we enter an environment where the rules and behaviors can change.
In thousands of dives, this was only the second episode of a direct attack by a fish. The first, less serious, dates back to the early ’90s, in Sharm el Sheikh, when a large Napoleon fish, without any provocation, violently bit my hand. For the rest, I have always interacted peacefully with every type of marine creature, including sharks of all kinds, without problems.
Now I know that, however rare, an incident like this is possible. This awareness doesn’t scare me, but it simply makes me a more attentive diver.
Needlefish remain my friends and I can’t wait to meet many others.
Word of Captain Harlock 😉
