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Archive for November, 2009
With Pirate attacks on the rise, CNN has thoughtfully produced an article outlining survival tactics in case you fall victim to this unthinkable and frightening situation. I offer a summary of their suggestions:
Steer clear of pirate hot spots – Certain waters are high-risk like those off the Somali coast, so ships are advised to avoid them. The planet is round, after all, so just plot a course in the opposite direction and you’ll eventually reach your destination.
Keep a good lookout – The article suggests that many ships don’t know they are under attack until the pirates board the boat. A good lookout is critical since there are so many good places for Pirates to hide in the open ocean.
Defensive maneuvers to take if Pirates attack:
Don’t slow down if fired upon – Despite most spy movie-gathered intelligence, your ship will not become invisible if it stops. So, do the natural thing and run like heck.
Consider short cycle zig-zags – Yes, you will make your crew seasick, but you’ll also create an amplified wake that will disrupt the pirates’ efforts. As an added benefit, instruct your crew to aim overboard if ill.
Use deafening horns – If you make really loud noises, the pirates might run away. Of course your crew may join them on the retreating boat just to get away from the painful sound, but hey, you’ll still have your boat!
Use barricades such as barbed wire – This is a useful tool to prevent people from boarding your boat uninvited. Please disregard this instruction, however, if you think you may need to leave your boat quickly such as if it is sinking or if someone is offering to separate your head from your shoulders. In these cases easy egress may be required.
Don’t make sudden movements around the Pirates – Spontaneously breaking out into Broadway show tunes is ill advised.
Transmit Mayday signals – This is useful so that the nearest Navy ship, usually several hours away, can get the first pick at the salvage that once was your boat.
Inform the Pirates that you are armed and prepared to defend yourself – Sticking your tongue at them and flipping them the bird may also help.
Flipper's evil twin?
For the past several years, porpoises have been washing up dead on southern California’s shores, making everyone wonder what aquatic evil was lurking in the offshore depths. Recently, Marine Biologists captured on film the killing of yet another porpoise, this time along with its attackers: a vicious pod of…dolphins? Yes indeed, Flipper has a dark side. All those years he spent smiling on the outside masked his evolving plot of serial killings. Researchers are attributing the disturbing behavior to sxual frustration, further ruining my idea of the beautiful, friendly ocean mammal. Not only do I now have a mental picture of dolphins murdering innocent porpoises, but now I have to think of them as fish who can’t get any. Oh, the depravity! Next someone is going to tell me that Santa doesn’t exist.
Neoprene is not the most forgiving of fabrics...
I’ve braved hungry sharks, roaring currents, and unidentifiable dive boat food. My dive buddy is known for pushing me in front of approaching predators with big teeth while he makes a quick getaway behind me. On the whole, I am a pretty adventurous diver, not easily intimidated underwater. But, I have never been able to conquer my fear of the great scuba diving beast: my wetsuit.
My concern falls into two categories: not having it on me and having it on me. First, similar to chocolate and my big brown dog, I need a wetsuit. Without it, no matter how similar the ocean temperature is to bath water, I get cold and then move to a shivering state faster than an octopus can strip a tasty clam. In a last ditch effort to warm up I will swim back and forth like a crazed tuna, a maneuver that has gotten me “rescued” several times by dive masters thinking I was out of my gourd.
Dive boat personnel frequently get a chuckle out of my space suit. “You don’t need that thing,” they say. “There are enough monsters in the sea already!” Easy there, buddy. I didn’t make fun of your mismatching shoes or bad taste in tequila. I know my limitations, especially when it comes to body temperature, so I schlep my 4mm suit with me to all dive locations no matter how small my suitcase needs to be. 1 pair of shorts, 2 shirts, 1 case of M&Ms, 1 wetsuit, and 2 weeks: no problem!
Which brings me to my second category of concern: the suits are, by design, tighter than NYC rush hour traffic. They usually have a zipper, put there like bait to lure the diver into thinking they actually have a chance at getting into the suit. I have heard that powder can sometimes enable the process, but no amount of talc could help me win this battle of The Bulge.
Once on, the neoprene acts like kryptonite for a diver’s positive self image of their body. It is so tight, one would think it acts like a girdle. But, no. Every hot fudge sundae and grilled cheese (with bacon) transgression is highlighted by the silhouette of the black suit against the white background of the inside of the boat. I’m pretty sure it was a very thin woman’s idea to paint it white in the first place. I try to overcome the inner tube effect by sucking it in until I realize there are some body parts that will not appear smaller no matter how much I deplete the atmosphere.
But then, the other divers on the boat put on their vests, specially crafted jackets that can be inflated with air for buoyancy. Suddenly we are all equal again, an army of strange sea life covered in lumpy gear shuffling towards the back of the boat in our fins. Splash! I’m in, floating towards the Technicolor reef below, my surface insecurities far behind me. Never have I felt, or looked, so good.
Off the east coast of the African nation of Tanzania lies what is easily one of the most remote and culturally fascinating places to dive on the planet, Zanzibar. The Zanzibar Archipelago, consisting of many small islands and two large ones, Unguja and Pemba, offers good visibility (60 – 200 feet) and a year-round average water temperature of 81 degrees Fahrenheit. The best times for diving are October through to December and February through to late March.
The islands offer wall dives, night dives, and drift dives, most of which are reached by boat. The varied sea life includes hunters like sharks, barracuda, kingfish, tuna and wahoo as well as tropical reef dwellers such as turtles, wrasse, angelfish, lionfish, scorpion fish, nudibranches, leaf fish, stingrays, sea cucumbers, snake eels, trumpet fish, moray eels, and groupers. If you are lucky, you can also see manta rays, dolphins and humpback whales which occasionally visit the islands’ waters.
The most famous Zanzibar dive site is in Mnemba Atoll Marine Park where park fees are used to help the local community. Levan Banks, a diving spot on the north coast near the Pemba Channel, is a very popular dive with advanced divers. The strong currents and deep waters of the channel offer some spectacular diving ogling the barracudas, sailfish, sting rays and the occasional shark. Perhaps the most interesting dive sites, however, are yet to be found. Several dive operators in the islands offer unique trips to dive unchartered territory, reefs and underwater rock formations that have not yet made it to any dive map or list of “must see” spots. The unknown is out there, just waiting for you to find it.
Once you get waterlogged, the topside offerings don’t disappoint either. Stone Town, the capital and cultural heart of the islands and a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is a dizzying combination of winding alleys, bustling bazaars (a.k.a. casbah), mosques, and majestic Arab houses, none of which has changed much over the past 200 years. In addition to tourism, Zanzibar makes its living from growing spices like cloves, nutmeg, and cinnamon, which frequently produce an intoxicating incense that blankets the islands.
Its pristine waters and amazing coral are an incredible opportunity for divers looking for something different, while its winding alleyways and relaxing aromas tempt the diver to return to shore. Zanzibar is high up on my “must dive” list.
Has anyone dove the waters of Zanzibar? If so, I’d love to hear about it…
Postscript:
I couldn’t figure out a way to include this tidbit into the article, but I just had to share it. Freddie Mercury of the band Queen was born in Zanzibar. Isn’t that random?
Thanks to CNN for recently noting that the Mexican cenotes are the place to be. Divers are always looking for the next big adventure. Somewhere in history a diver decided that scuba diving in the Mexican oceans lost its luster. He packed up his gear, hiked through the jungle, and jumped into a cenote to up the adrenaline factor. Some people are just never satisfied.
The Yucatan peninsula, the part of Mexico where Cancun is located, abounds with cenotes. Several famous cave systems call this area home, including Ox Bel Ha, the longest underground river and cave system in the world. Many cave explorers believe the cave systems are actually all linked, though only a few connection points have been found. Year after year cave divers find new pathways and pieces to this mysterious underwater world.
The dive company we hired took us to Dos Ojos, or two eyes, named for two openings in the cavern wall that appear as if they are watching the divers inside the cave. Ronnie, our divemaster for the day, picked us up in a 4×4 and drove out to the cenote site in the middle of the jungle. We arrived early in the morning, which enabled us to avoid the crowds. Later in the day snorkeler groups would show up to float on the top of the open cenote, blocking the light and stirring up sediment.
The cenote appeared as an open slash of water on the jungle floor. The water clarity reflected the sunlight, making the pool glow an unearthly turquoise that disappeared under a large cave overhang at one end. We carried our gear the short way from the dirt parking lot to the pool edge. Fortunately the water line was near the pool edge, requiring only a giant stride to enter the pool. Some cenotes have high, steep sides that necessitate the use of rope lines and rappelling to reach the water surface. My lack of coordination would have prevented me from successfully executing that Spider Man maneuver.
Standing in my thirty-plus pounds of gear at the lip of a flooded underwater cavern made my heart pump fast. I wanted to jump in and, at the same time, run back to the jeep and drive away. I was excited yet terrified of the unknown before me. I took a giant step into the pool, and the turquoise swallowed me.
I could see over two hundred feet in every direction, unheard of in the open ocean. Boulders lined the cenote bottom, with an occasional stalagmite sticking straight up, created from years of limestone deposits dripped from the ceiling before the cavern roof collapsed and filled with water. The grey and black rock shadows stood in stark relief to the glowing turquoise water around them. The sight took my breath away, yet conveyed a sense of eerie calm.
After ensuring our group successfully made it to the bottom, Ronnie led us to the cavern end where a large, dark opening stood. My heart beat, which I had fought to calm after entering the water, raced again at the thought of entering the black hole. As anyone who has ever watched a Star Trek episode can attest, nothing good ever happens to a person who enters a black hole. There is usually an intergalactic funeral service before the next commercial runs.
With great trepidation yet determination, I followed Ronnie through the hole. I knew I would sorely regret it later if I did not complete the dive. After just a few moments my eyes adjusted to the ambient light shining from the cavern we left and from a few small holes in the ceiling in the new cavern we entered. An almost completely intact roof overhead indicated that we swam in a true cave. Stalactites hung down from the ceiling, the result of more limestone deposits dripping over the years before the cave flooded. It was Jurassic Park meets Finding Nemo.
Parts of the cave ceiling resembled flat mirrors, like liquid metal floating at the surface. After getting Ronnie’s attention I pointed to the phenomenon and made a clear sign: “What in the world is that?” He led us slowly upwards to the reflection and indicated we should put one hand above our heads as we ascended in order to avoid bumping into anything sharp.
Like magic, my hand pierced the liquid metal reflection and entered…air. I continued to ascend with our group and surfaced above the water line but still inside the cave. Surprisingly, five feet or more of room stretched between the water and the ceiling. Ronnie took out his regulator and motioned for us to do the same.
“Here is the reason so many divers can enjoy the cenotes,” he said. “Air pockets like this exist throughout the cave system. And, the water is so clear that the light from the skylights reflects off of every surface, lighting our way without the use of torches. “
We descended back into the water of the cave to tour the room, exploring the unique geological formation collage that decorated the cavern. The strange underwater world attracted my attention so much that I forgot my camera in my pocket. I pulled it out towards the end of the dive and captured a few rock and diver silhouettes against the blue. The impressive panorama provided opportunities for pictures that made even my meager photography skills look good.
We returned to the main cavern back through the opening in the wall, once menacing, now enchanted since I knew what lay beyond. The turquoise glow grew brighter as the sun rose overhead, hitting the pool directly. I looked up towards the surface and saw…a rear end. The end had dangling feet, a neon orange inflation vest and several other similar ends bobbing around it.
A snorkeler group had entered the water, providing us with an underbelly view of natural wonders we did not care to see. We returned to the surface and loaded up the jeep before too many more people arrived. The solitary quiet had added to the formation’s beauty, and I preferred to remember it that way.
Lake Tahoe, Nevada – Known for its topside winter fun, the depths of Lake Tahoe are frequently overlooked. Savvy divers know that the fun extends below the lake’s surface. Wrecks and interesting underwater rock formations provide hours of scuba entertainment. And, at 52 degrees (thanks, Strictly Scuba for that weather report!) the lake makes a great place to learn drysuit diving. And don’t say the locals lack a sense of humor – the Northern Nevada Dive Club just sponsored an underwater pumpkin carving event.
Detroit, Michigan – Winter comes quick in this northern clime, so scuba divers need to be creative to get their underwater fix. Dive companies, like Scuba Centers of Michigan, offer heated pools and an extensive list of certification classes to hone your skills. Lacking a nearby ocean, frequent quarry diving trips make everyone appreciate their next tropical vacation just a little bit more. And, dive centers put more effort into planning group trips to exotic diving locals so you don’t have to do the trip legwork – you just sign up and go diving!
Bonne Terre Mine, Missouri- Sixty miles south of St. Louis, the Bonne Terre Mine, active from 1870 to 1960, lies flooded and ready for adventurous divers. 500,000 watts of lighting illuminate the 24 dive trails that snake through the mine’s billion gallons of water (which stays a constant 58º F year round.) Divers tour natural phenomenon like calcium falls and rock pillars as well as manmade items like abandoned machinery and mining hand tools. It is such a unique experience that even Jacques Cousteau took the plunge here.
Washington State Coast – Incredible shore dives, dense kelp forests, and convenient offshore islands lure drysuit divers to this well kept secret year round. Hordes of octopi, wolf eels, rockfish, giant anemones, and seals delight divers willing to take the chilly plunge. Underwater playgrounds like Fort Casey Underwater Park and Edmonds Underwater Park are laid out for divers, using ropes and buoys to mark the “trails.” A variety of scuba shops both big and small offer divemaster-led trips or gear rental for do-it-yourselfers.
By now, most people have heard of the Ocean Garbage “Vortex,” a Texas-sized patch of North Pacific Ocean filled with floating plastic debris. This phenomenon is, of course, bad news for sea life and humans alike. Several great organizations are trying to fix the problem, like the Scripps Research Institute and Project Kaisei.
But a recent CNN article brought my attention to a lesser known, but still problematic, feature of the trash raft – its ability to transport invasive species across the oceans, devastating the ecosystems where they land. Think about the lionfish’s invasion of the Caribbean (and the devastation it is having on reef fish populations) and then multiply that exponentially based on the size and potential reach of the items in the vortex. Now that is a really dirty problem.
1 Spotted Drum, Value: $3.26 (pretty, but inedible)
In a capitalistic twist on an old topic, Cambridge University-based group The Economics of Ecosystems and Biodiversity (TEEB) quantified the benefits of conserving coral reefs, recently presenting their figures at the Diversitas conference in South Africa. They proposed that coral reefs are worth $172 billion dollars a year to the global economy, a number much higher than originally calculated by other economic environmental groups.
I envisioned researchers out there counting fish and coral (that’s $1.27 for that angelfish, but the grouper is worth at least $5.02 since you can eat ‘em!) But, alas, the calculation was based on a number of factors, calculated at a desk and not in the field, including tourism dollars, food chain contribution and cost avoidance from storm surge damage.
In addition to current value (no pun intended), the group also managed to calculate the return on conservation investment, citing a 7% return on coral reef conservation and a 40% return on mangrove conservation. This basically means that the value we get out of conservation efforts is actually more than the money we put in.
Everybody knows that conceptually, saving the oceans is a good thing to do. This study seems to provide some practical argument for it as well. I just keep picturing little seahorses shaped like dollar signs…
Yes, there is actually an octopus in there, sleeping (in the center...keep looking...)
There is just something…misplaceable about dive gear. When you buy various scuba gadgets you never think, now this I’m going to lose quick. But invariably it happens, that moment when you think crap, where did I put that? I personally have found that unless something is taped, glued or stapled to my immediate person, I will most likely part with said object (sometimes even faster than it took me to buy it in the first place.) There is either a peaceful heaven where all my lost gear resides or a greedy guy on e-bay profiting on my absentmindedness. In any case the following is “the lost items I miss the most” list, an electronic representation of pet posters stapled to every tree in the neighborhood. If you see any of these items, please tell them I miss them.
Lost: Epoque 0.56x Wide Angle Lens Cap
Last Seen: L’Ilot, Seychelles, floating around in the cruddy water in the boat hull
I was so excited to see the whalesharks that I flung the cap in the direction of my backpack and dove into the water with the beasts. Looks like I might have left a souvenir for the fishies. The lens has lived in a (clean) sock ever since.
Lost: One beloved, size 10, rubber soled booty
Last Seen: My garage
These hard bottomed beauties were well known for keeping the warmth in and urchin spines out. Perhaps I didn’t show this favorite footwear my true feelings and drove it to hide in the back of the cupboard with the WD-40 and the azalea fertilizer. I am still hoping this one comes back to me.
Lost: Reefmaster Dive Computer
Last Seen: South Shore, Kauai
A great example of a toy that took longer to order than it took to lose. To this day my dive (which started two years ago) is still being recorded in 10 feet of water off the beach near Sheraton Caverns. Note: when the packaging says “Ensure thorough fastening of device” they aren’t kidding.
Lost: My reputation as fish scout
Last Seen: Pedernales Wreck, Aruba
I am known for spotting things underwater, especially camouflaged critters. But on this trip my spouse found not one, but two octopi before I was barely even in the water. I will never hear the end of this one.
Nomadic in nature and notoriously bubble-shy, Manta Rays are undoubtedly one of the most appreciated underwater sightings once you finally find one. There are, however, a few places in the world that can almost guarantee a manta sighting on any given dive.
Yap, Micronesia – This tiny Pacific island just north of the equator houses a resident colony of manta rays, a rare living situation for the animals. Check out Yap Diver’s blog that highlights pics from “Manta Fest” including one dive trip accompanied by a pod of Orcas. As a bonus, visitors to the island also get a unique top side cultural experience that frequently includes grass skirts, loincloths, and the use of huge wheels of stone money for barter.
Kona, Hawaii – This manta experience is decidedly more manmade, but no less exciting. Dive operators and hotels light up the waters off the Kona Coast at night, attracting swarms of plankton that, in turn, attract the manta rays. Divers and snorkelers alike hover in the water column, watching the giants glide and swoop as they feed. Check out Kona Honu Diver’s page for a cool video of what the dive actually looks like.
Atlanta, Georgia – On this trip you have a 100% chance of seeing not one manta, but two. If you buy tickets to the aquarium, that is. Whether you agree with the idea of aquariums or not, you have to admit that this place really has it all when it comes to sea life. The two mantas swim in a six million gallon exhibit next to four whale sharks, a handful of hammerheads, and a ton of other fish. Rumor has it that one of the rays likes to do flips out of the water at the surface, a rare treat for people on the Behind the Scenes tours.