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Archive for the ‘Central/South America’ Category
On our last dive trip we encountered a couple who mentioned they had been to see the whalesharks of the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico last year. They seemed like honest enough folks, but their claims of seeing hundreds of whalesharks off the peninsula seemed exaggerated at best and a bold faced fabrication at worst. I decided to do some research to find out more about these multiple Mexican whalesharks and determine if it would be worth the trip to see them.
So yes, indeed, there are whalesharks off of the Caribbean coast of Mexico. During the month of June to September, in the area around Cancun, Contoy and Isla Holbox, the sharks swim by during their summer feeding migration. Though the locals, who quaintly call the fish Dominoes, have known about the migration for a long time, it is only within the past six years that these aquatic Latin beauties have grabbed international attention. Whale Shark Tourism infusion started with 9000 people in 2005. 2006 saw a 50% increase to 13,500. 2007 saw another increase to over 16,000 and in 2008 the total board saw almost 20,000 Whale Shark swimmers!
Yes, swimmers. There is no scuba diving allowed with the whalesharks, just snorkeling, a rule enforced by Mexican marine park rangers with fast boats, firepower and determined glints in their eyes. There are a variety of outfitters who the government has licensed to take people to swim with the Whale Sharks which keeps good control over process. Props to Mexico for acknowledging and protecting their marine treasures.
Let’s talk numbers. Were my dive buddies making an accurate statement, or were the oodles of whalesharks all in their minds? If they really did go in 2008 or 2009, it is possible they were telling the truth. Each year since 2005 the number of whalesharks sighted in the region has increased, though it is unclear whether that is a function of more whalesharks in the area, or better spotting techniques (like the use of planes or historical sighting data). Some days you might be lucky to see one or two, with five to ten seeming to be the average. But when the water is thick with plankton, for example from spawning fish, the whaleshark numbers can grow dramatically, with 2009 aggregations reaching 300+. That’s 300+ whalesharks at one time in an area no bigger than a few football fields. I can’t imagine a site more amazing than that.
So the only downside seems to be the unpredictability of the sightings and the time it takes. While my dive buddies may have seen 300, if I went a week later I might have only seen one. Depending on where you are based, the boat ride out to see the whalesharks could be three hours or more (that’s three hours out and three hours back.) On the upside there are frequently surface manta ray sightings in the area, giving passengers something to look for on the long ride. And of course, the possibility of something this good is certainly worth the wait.
Though relatively unknown, Latin America has some great diving along both coasts. Pristine reefs and few fellow divers equal one of kind diving opportunities. A few interesting spots to check out:
Gladden Split, Belize-Off the southern coast of Belize, Gladden’s Split is a world-renowned spot for diving with massive whale sharks. This site is the natural spawning ground for a variety of marine species which in turn attract the big guys. Whale sharks come regularly to feed on the fish eggs and other plankton in the water especially during the full moons of April, May and June, though they can also be seen August to October and in December and January. Though some of the dive sites in the north of the country are more well-known, none (except maybe the Blue Hole) are as dramatic and as rewarding.
Spooky Channel, Roatan, Honduras – Spooky Channel is located directly off the end of the Sunnyside pier making shore entry and exit a snap. Those on boats can also access the site, with moorings on both the inside and outside of the reef . There is a maze of zigzags and tunnel like effects leading throughout the reef at depths of up to 95 feet that give the site its name. There is an incredible array of fish on this dive including: blue runner, harlequin bass, cowfish, trunkfish, black durgon, butterfly fish, grouper, angelfish, parrotfish, octopus, lobster, shrimp, spider crab, trunkfish, porcupine fish, turtles, and rays. Upon occasion divers can even see whalesharks when the season is right. Abundant, healthy corals such as flower coral, smooth starlet, ribbon coral, brain coral, sea rod, sea fans, tube sponges, and basket sponges will do their best to steal your attention away from the fish.
Catalina Island, Costa Rica -This island off the west coast of Costa Rica is almost unknown to humans, but well known to rays. Giant Manta Rays, Bat Rays, Mobley, Spotted, Bull’s-eye and Stingrays abound. It is not unusual to see large migratory schools rays passing by during a dive. Sometimes sharks make an appearance too, including tiger sharks and white tips. The best months for diving the Catalina Islands are December through May, high season for Mantas. If you get bored of all of the large pelagics, you can also find frog fish, harlequin clown shrimp and sea horses here.
The Devil’s Throat, Cozumel, Mexico – Located at the Punta Sur dive site in Cozumel, The Devil’s throat is an underwater cave formation that starts at the opening of a dark narrow tunnel at 90 feet and takes you first vertically, then horizontally out through an opening at 130 feet on the wall. Visibility often exceeds 200 feet and the area is frequently visited by eagle rays and turtles, thought the creepy and spectacular cave is the highlight of this dive. Bring a dive light and some really advanced scuba skills for this one – you’ll need it.
Isabela Island, Mexico – Isabela Island National Park is a marine preserve accessed only by boat off the Pacific Coast of San Blas, Mexico. It’s possible to swim with giant Manta rays and hear whale songs underwater on the same dive. On the boat trip out and back, divers frequently sight whales, dolphins, turtles, whalesharks and sailfish. The unique underwater topography includes a giant underwater arch and several small caves to explore. A rainbow of tropical fish, yellowtail, grouper, red snapper, jack caravel, eel, anemones and all manner of corals thrive in this pristine habitat.
The cruise dock in Belize did not exude “jungle paradise” as I expected. Before the cruise the thought of Belize conjured up visions of toucans, jaguars, and fierce Inca men with rippling muscles. Instead, the dock was full of concrete, marine shipping box piles, and skinny men running around like ants trying to secure our boat. I hoped the experience would improve from there.
The divers from our cruise were loaded onto a minibus so that we could drive to the designated dive shop. There were ten of us in total. The rest of the divers appeared normal, except for three guys who looked like Navy Seals. They were tall, well-muscled men with crew cuts and an entire store worth of scuba gear tucked into enormous black duffle bags. They looked like they were going to dive the deep Titanic rather than the shallow Belize shores. Their gear listed our minibus to the left side during the entire ride to the dive shop.
Again we signed our life away in accident waiver forms when we arrived at the dive shop. I have always wondered why shops require divers to perform this task. The pens never work because the salt air instantly corrodes them. The counters are always wet so the minute one puts the paper down to sign it, it turns into a squishy mess. And, finally, there is never anyplace in a dive shop that is well organized enough to store something like the thousands of waiver papers a shop would collect in a year. I am sure there are parrot cages all over the globe that are lined with these liability releases.
We boarded the dive boat and set up our gear. I knew the divemasters were assessing our skills based on how our knowledge of the hoses, gauges and straps that are involved in a scuba setup. I suspected they might insist I wear water wings after I tried to set up my tank backwards. Twice. I finally got my gear set up correctly, and then contorted myself into my wetsuit, an activity I perform as graceful as a sailor swearing.
The divemaster took us on a whirlwind underwater tour of Terraces Reef, patiently pointing out large sea life like turtles and small creatures like decorator crabs. I acted like paparazzi at each stop, snapping picture after picture of starlet starfish with my camera. I learned when developing my pictures from Bora Bora that fish swim, frequently out of focus or out of the frame altogether. By looking at my pictures, one would assume Bora Bora had a lot of empty water. I had prepared to practice my underwater photography skills more on this trip.
I had not prepared for the new and fascinating sea life that revealed itself to us on this trip. Most notably were the green moray eels anywhere from five to ten feet in length. Morays have dorsal fins that extend evenly from their head all the way to their tail and very large teeth, making them look like angry green vipers with full body mohawks. I saw moray eels in French Polynesia, but they all hid in the reef with only their faces and fierce-looking mouths exposed.
In Belize the Morays were free-swimming, something that most types of eels usually do only at night. These long, green ribbons of muscle undulated through the water like Cruella De Vil’s feather boa. Because of their notoriously poor vision, morays are not known for biting humans offensively, usually reserving this defensive tactic for when a diver’s hand or foot is put mistakenly into their hole in the reef. Seeing the full length and body power behind the large teeth as they cruised around the reef gave me the creeps; their full exposure expanded their menace exponentially. Although the two dives were fascinating, I was glad to end my time with those particular reef residents.
You are diving a wreck when you find a shiny trinket that appears valuable. Do you:
a) Leave it where it is..you still remember kindergarten when you learned to “look with your eyes, not with your hands”
b) Hide it in your bathing suit (remember that scene from Pulp Fiction…) you will study it later and hopefully make a million dollars off of it
c) Proudly display it to everyone you com in contact with until the local authorities cart you off to jail for stealing national treasures
CNN recently ran a story about a diver who found a pocket watch near a wreck, and decided to go with a modified version of choice b above. Instead of looking to make a million on it, he spent 9 years researching the history behind it and looking for the current-day, rightful owner.
The story got me thinking about the possibilities of the sunken treasure that lies beneath the waves, and the possibilities of turning my aquatic hobby into a money making venture. After some research I have learned that, sadly, there is no direct line from the sea floor to my pocket. Underwater treasure hunting is governed by the U.N. Law of the Sea, which is about as straightforward as a slinky. The original ship owner, the location of the wreck, the contents of the cargo, the phase of the moon and even the number of goals last scored by Manchester United all seem to play a part in the ultimate meaning of “finders keepers.”
Many privately owned underwater archeology companies (ie. treasure hunters) ply the planet’s oceans each year looking for riches. You’d be hard pressed to actually name one of these companies, however, as they are more secretive than the SPECTRE bad guys in the old James Bond movies (but actually have access to even cooler gadgets.) One such company found $500 million in coins last year, shipped it all back home, buried it in their backyard, then raised their hand and said “Um…we think we might have found something.” The Spanish government is still trying to get the booty back, resorting to armed encounters and public claims of grave robbing in order to “persuade” the salvage shop to return the loot.
Since I’ll be spending my lottery winnings on that $95 million orca yacht, I won’t be able to afford the high tech toys needed for the salvage operation. And since this blog is gathering a healthy following of divers, it looks like the secrecy requirement isn’t going to work either. Guess I’ll have to stick to salvaging the usual abandoned dive gear and old bottles…although a piece of Andrea Doria china would be nice.
The folks at scubaherald got me thinking about the scuba fringe, the diving opportunities that take you from being a recreational diver to a complete scuba diving freak. While I admit my first thought is “That sounds cool! Let’s go now!” there is a small voice speaking from my sub-conscious that says “Are you a fool?” Whatever your perspective, you have to admit these pursuits take diving to a whole new level.
Heli-diving
“I’m in a perfectly working helicopter, but I am going to exchange my comfy seat for a long, unpleasant plunge into cold ocean waters. Oh, and I’m taking my scuba gear with me.” Dive operators in several places, including the Great Barrier Reef and Curacao, are offering this expedient pre-dive experience, redolent of Navy Seal and flying fish jokes. In exchange for some serious cash, you get several hours of training and enough adrenaline to fuel Manhattan’s electricity needs. For a year.
Cageless, baited Tiger Shark diving
It’s tough to stand out as a dive operator in South Africa, as once-in-a-lifetime diving opportunities can be found all along the coast. One particularly creative shop has found the answer. Go to the Tiger Shark ‘hood, chum the water, remove the cage, and pray that everyone on the dive boat returns with the appropriate number of arms and legs (attached). What I want to know is: how do the Great Whites know that the dinner bell is not for them?
Record-setting deep dives
Go past 120 feet, and you’ve left recreational diving depths. Add a few hundred feet more, and you’ll find zero light and few fish. Go a few hundred feet more, and you might just find a diver with a death wish trying to set a new depth record. The deepest sea dive to date is 330 meters set by Pascale Bernabe in 2005, but depth-aholics are constantly trying to beat the latest achievement. The record and not the dive itself seems to be what turns these extreme divers on: it took Bernabe ten minutes to descend to that depth and nine long, boring hours to come back up because of all of the decompression requirements.
Ice diving
In the middle of the Antarctic winter you need to bore a hole through six feet of ice before you can even access the water. That alone dissuades most people. The remaining determined individuals then need to contend with their Sahara-sized dry suit, a slush filled, disorienting entry and volumes of safety rope, as the hole is the only way in and out of the ocean (no, chipping away ice cubes with your dive knife will not work). But, once the trivial inconveniences are dispensed, diving the water under the ice is a thrilling opportunity, with over three hundred feet of visibility and a host of unique sea creatures to see (can you say orka?) It’s an extreme dive adventure not for the faint of heart, nerve, body temperature, or wallet.
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.
The cruise dock in Belize did not exude “jungle paradise” as I expected. Before the cruise the thought of Belize conjured up visions of toucans, jaguars, and fierce Inca men with rippling muscles. Instead, the dock was full of concrete, marine shipping box piles, and skinny men running around like ants trying to secure our boat. I hoped the experience would improve from there.
The divers from our cruise were loaded onto a minibus so that we could drive to the designated dive shop. There were ten of us in total. The rest of the divers appeared normal, except for three guys who looked like Navy Seals. They were tall, well-muscled men with crew cuts and an entire store worth of scuba gear tucked into enormous black duffle bags. They looked like they were going to dive the deep Titanic rather than the shallow Belize shores. Their gear listed our minibus to the left side during the entire ride to the dive shop.
Again we signed our life away in accident waiver forms when we arrived at the dive shop. I have always wondered why shops require divers to perform this task. The pens never work because the salt air instantly corrodes them. The counters are always wet so the minute one puts the paper down to sign it, it turns into a squishy mess. And, finally, there is never anyplace in a dive shop that is well organized enough to store something like the thousands of waiver papers a shop would collect in a year. I am sure there are parrot cages all over the globe that are lined with these liability releases.
We boarded the dive boat and set up our gear. I knew the divemasters were assessing our skills based on how our knowledge of the hoses, gauges and straps that are involved in a scuba setup. I suspected they might insist I wear water wings after I tried to set up my tank backwards. Twice. I finally got my gear set up correctly, and then contorted myself into my wetsuit, an activity I perform as graceful as a sailor swearing.
The divemaster took us on a whirlwind underwater tour of Terraces Reef, patiently pointing out large sea life like turtles and small creatures like decorator crabs. I acted like paparazzi at each stop, snapping picture after picture of starlet starfish with my camera. I learned when developing my pictures from Bora Bora that fish swim, frequently out of focus or out of the frame altogether. By looking at my pictures, one would assume Bora Bora had a lot of empty water. I had prepared to practice my underwater photography skills more on this trip.
I had not prepared for the new and fascinating sea life that revealed itself to us on this trip. Most notably were the green moray eels anywhere from five to ten feet in length. Morays have dorsal fins that extend evenly from their head all the way to their tail and very large teeth, making them look like angry green vipers with full body mohawks. I saw moray eels in French Polynesia, but they all hid in the reef with only their faces and fierce-looking mouths exposed.
In Belize the Morays were free-swimming, something that most types of eels usually do only at night. These long, green ribbons of muscle undulated through the water like Cruella De Vil’s feather boa. Because of their notoriously poor vision, morays are not known for biting humans offensively, usually reserving this defensive tactic for when a diver’s hand or foot is put mistakenly into their hole in the reef. Seeing the full length and body power behind the large teeth as they cruised around the reef gave me the creeps; their full exposure expanded their menace exponentially. Although the two dives were fascinating, I was glad to end my time with those particular reef residents.
Another Cozumel Christmas Tree Worm
(see latest post below)
Christmas Tree Worm
Spirobranchus giganteus
These cheeky little fellows possess well-developed nervous systems complete with a central brain. The two feathery “Christmas Trees” (aka. Madonna’s Bra) are used to capture dinner and also to breathe. The worms burrow themselves into coral, moving only to extend or retract their trees when something scary, like myself, swims by. They are found in tropical waters world wide, and are a favorite of photographers because they don’t swim away.
I have found that if you approach without casting a shadow over them, their trees will stay up long enough for a memorable picture. You’ll only get one, however, as the camera’s flash will quickly send them looking for cover.
So the folks at scubagadget.com have called to my attention the fact that the Mexican drug cartel violence has moved into Cozumel. Since I will be in Cozumel next week this news is, dare I say…mildly concerning.
Really now, what could the cartels possibly need in Cozumel? Perhaps they want a souvenir Senior Frog’s t-shirt? Or, a coconut carved with their name for their mantle at home? Maybe they are looking for a satisfying meal of spaghetti and meatballs or frozen fish fingers from one of the many tourist restaurants that line the ocean. Perhaps they can catch a lift on the merry-go-round of cruises that come through the port.
For all its quirks, I do love Cozumel because of the warm people and the fantastic diving. Like many people, I hope the violence doesn’t take hold of the place, preventing scuba divers or travelers from appreciating its beautiful reefs. The experience there is just too good to miss.