Posts Tagged ‘dolphins’

Larry, the Puerto Rico lobster
Puerto Rico may be the fourth largest island in the Caribbean, but it is certainly one of the greatest for scuba diving. Its unique location, between the semi-protected Caribbean Sea and the open Atlantic, means that divers get the best of two realms, with sheltered reefs, pelagics from the deep, sheer drop-offs and networks of caves and tunnels, all in clear, warm waters year round. Water temperatures are in the low 80s in winter; mid-80s in summer. Visibility averages 70 feet around the main island with 100 feet or more off some of the surrounding small islands.
Diving in Puerto Rico is mainly done off the East, South and West coasts of the island. To the east, visibility frequently approaches 100 ft. Off the coast sit two small islands ripe for diving – Culebra and Vieques. The establishment of the Culebra Marine Reserve Park ensures that its dive sites are protected. Though Vieques is known for the prior U.S. Naval bombing exercises, it actually offers very healthy reefs due to the lack of visitors there in the recent past. There are also several dive sites around a series of small uninhabited islands—Palomino, Palominitos, and Cayo Diablo, where white beaches lead to shallow, prolific reefs amongst calm waters. Along with stingrays, eels, angelfish and jacks, very often divers off the east coast see dolphins, turtles, manatees, and even sometimes passing whales.
Puerto Rico’s Wall runs parallel to the south coast, producing sites with shocking drop offs. La Parguera, on the island’s southwest edge, features at least two dozen spots for sighting stands of black coral and pelagics. Rincon is where land-based dive operators run trips westward to Desecheo Island, another area with more dive options than there are hours in the day. A trip to pristine Mona Island is a highlight of many divers who visit, but it lies 45 miles west of the island (a 6-hour boat ride) and so the visit needs to be planned in advance.
Some interesting dives in Puerto Rico include:
Las Cuevas – This fascinating spot located near Desecheo that looks like Dr. Seuss molded the sea floor. Arches and swim-throughs cover the landscape, producing psychedelic effects and plenty of exploration opportunities. This boat dive starts at about 35 feet, but goes no deeper than 65 feet, which insures divers will have plenty of bottom time to search for critters amongst the super healthy reefs.
Cayo Raton – This semicircular reef off of Culebra starts flat and then plunges down to 55 feet. The sometimes strong current makes for 100+ foot visibility on a good day of diving. Larger fish are attracted to the current, but the reef boasts a healthy collection of small creatures, too, prompting many divers to note that there seems to be an unusually large amount of fish to be seen at this site.
Fallen Rock – This advanced dive near La Parguera will take a bit of a boat ride to get to, but bring a book and some sun screen, and you’ll be glad you made the trip. Sometime over the millenea, an enormous piece of the wall broke off and tumbled down the slope, causing a v-shaped notch that now shelters an explosion of coral and sea life. The boulder that broke off now forms a pinnacle further down the slope that divers can explore in detail, with frequent seahorses, crabs and octopus sightings. This is a deep dive, with the top of the reef at 65 feet, and the bottom dropping past 100, but the unique topography makes for a dramatic dive. All the usual reef fish can be spotted here, as can pelagics like mackerels, jacks, barracuda and spotted eagle rays that patrol the blue.
The Wall – This wall dive near La Parguera (sometimes also called Efra’s Wall) boasts multitudes of colorful coral lining the wall and adjacent canyon. This is a great site to check out the plant life, with gorgonians, whip corals, large golden zoanthids, green finger sponges, black coral and rope pore sponges growing from what seems like every surface. This dive also offers queen triggerfish, spotted eagle rays, schools of goatfish and parrotfish, as well as a hefty dose lobster action.
When the trainer opened the gate between the pen and the ocean I thought: That dolphin is not coming back. It shot out of the pen like a bullet, heading straight out from shore, a dark, sleek shadow racing through the waves, disappearing in the distance. We boarded the boat and began the short, ten minute trip to our designated dive site. The trainer scanned the horizon for signs of the dolphin, the corners of his eyes pinched with the beginnings of worry. We spent the travel time gearing up so that we would be ready to jump into the water as soon as we arrived at the site.
The captain cut the motor and a mate lassoed a mooring ball cemented to the sea floor so that the boat anchor would not damage the reef. We shuffled to the back of the boat with the rest of the divers, prepared for entry into the ocean. Our eyes focused on the surface, looking for the dolphin, our designated dive buddy for the day. Its disappearance surprised crew and passengers alike, causing us all some concern. Suddenly, it leapt from the water at the stern of the boat, its silver-grey sides glistening in the sun. Its face held intelligent eyes and a smile that said “Hi! It took you long enough to get here!”
Our group of six divers and one divemaster eased into the water and descended to the ocean bottom, about thirty feet down. We knelt in a large circle on the sandy floor. The dolphin trainer swam in the water with, of course, the dolphin. The trainer had taught the mammal well; it kept an eye on its teacher, watching for queues. Flipper swam to each of us, allowing us to pet his back and interact. The dolphin was surprisingly strong, able to push even the largest diver around with ease.
Amazingly, we swam in open water with no barriers around us. At any point the dolphin could have simply left our group and never returned. At certain points the dolphin did disappear from sight, dashing out into the blue and then back again, perhaps resting or refocusing its efforts. The trainer patiently waited until the dolphin appeared ready to move onto the next person or activity. The dolphin seemed to enjoy the experience, having a purpose and freedom at the same time.
Sometimes humans come upon dolphins that have been injured or neglected from birth. Across the globe groups work to rehabilitate these animals, but not all can be returned safely to the open ocean because of the lasting effects of their injuries or their dependence on humans. The company we dove with had rehabilitated many dolphins, some of which needed to remain in captivity, destined to live out their lives with beings that walked instead of swam. Our dolphin was born in captivity, its parents rehabilitated from injuries, but too weak to survive in the wild.
I was excited to swim with the dolphin, but hoped it would be an educational experience, not just a circus act. I found a beautiful creature that had a job it clearly enjoyed with purposefulness that far exceeded swimming around a pen. And, it could have simply swam away, but didn’t. As the dolphin came close to me and inspected my mask, I almost forgot to breathe. It turned to make eye contact with me and I thought: The Bahamas are a great place to be.
When I heard that Hurricane Jimena, currently a category 4 storm and the tenth storm of the season in the Pacific, was barreling down on Baja California, I thought I hope it won’t hurt the scuba diving there. Then I realized I had no clue what kind of diving was there. After a little research I now hope more than ever that Jimena decides she wants an authentic tamale and veers significantly to the right into a low-population area.
The Baja peninsula actually has an amazing array of diving opportunities, from the rocky kelp forests in the north on the Pacific coast near San Diego to the only live coral reef on the western side of North America, Cabo Pulmo, on the Sea of Cortez between La Paz and Cabo San Lucas. The indigenous sea life is insane, including great white sharks, hammerhead sharks, tiger sharks, whale sharks, manta rays, dolphins, marlin, Humboldt squid, octopus, and whales. In some spots divers encounter sea lions frequently eager to play or gnaw the end of your fin.
I can’t wait to book my next trip: the Baja Peninsula has moved up to #1 on my “to dive” list. I’ll just wait until Jimena checks out of the hotel.
Diving an oil rig has always seemed a daunting task to me both in terms of accessing the site as well as taking on the monstrous-looking structure. On the surface, many people find these rusty rigs to be an eyesore, a hulking man-made blight on the beautiful ocean surface. But, under water it’s a very different story. The thick metal supporting beams of the oil rigs act as a magnet for a vast array of marine plants and animals, creating a kind of artificial reef, a haven for sea life in the middle of the open ocean. Twenty-three oil platforms breach the waters off the coast between Oceanside and Santa Barbara, with names like Eureka, Ellen-Elly and lots of other girly monikers.
