TheExpatJournals.com

Let’s be honest…while I thought it had been about 5 years since I had been diving, when I started really thinking back, it had been a shocking 13 years since my last dive!  And what a miserable dive that was which no doubt contributed to the lengthy absence.  My last dive involved total equipment failure because I neglected to test the equipment first.  And climbing out of the sea, I shred my hand on a rock that I have the scar from to this day.  Catalina Island off the coast of California.  Kelp forests, bad visibility and not much marine life.  But let’s not dwell on that.

A few weeks back, I went out to the Galapagos and decided to try diving again.  I did not make a good choice in terms of who I went diving with and had yet another miserable dive.  The combination of an irresponsible dive outfit and me not remembering how to dive added up to enough to make me never want to dive again.  That day, I just suited up (in the wrong wetsuit-the one that had little more than the thickness of panty hose around the knees due to how tattered it was in spite of trying on a better one in town) and jumped in to dive.  So now I am battling buoyancy in this 7mm wetsuit, something I was never fond of using and still don’t like using.  That, plus the fact that I have more body fat now than 13 years ago equalled a battle with buoyancy in a current that was neither mild nor strong but did provide sufficient force to deal with.  Long story short, I blew too hard to equalize.  I came out of the water feeling like my left ear was full of water that I could not shake out.  After about a week, I realized it could not be water or it would have been absorbed by now.  So I went to see a specialist who informed me that I had blown mucous from my sinus passage into my middle ear.  Afer a shot, a spray and an antibiotic prescription, he told me I would be good to dive again.  You see, I had another trip planned to the Galapagos and wanted to dive when I returned…with a different outfit.

On the day of my ear accident, I found that I was battling everything too much to enjoy the dive.   I was breathing too hard in the battle and it does not feel good to be out of breath underwater.  When a giant macho sea lion approached me at a distance of about 2 meters, I decided enough was enough and aborted the dive.  If it’s no fun, why do it? There was no ladder to climb back into the boat nor any water or other beverages when I did manage to climb back in.  Okay, now I know.  And ps…most sharks don’t scare me, but those enormous macho sea lions protecting their harem do.  Then again, I’d take my chances with them any day over a close up with a tiger, a bull or a great white.

So back out I go a couple of weeks later and while the ear is still iffy and my psyche now truly unsure about whether or not I can dive anymore, I still decided to try again with a different divemaster…Macarron. And Macarron was great.  I suit up in a wetsuit that isn’t full of holes and jump in.  I’m informed that before we begin, he has to do a check dive with me…something that should have happened the first time not only so the divemaster was aware of my skills or lack thereof but also to give me time to re-acclimate to diving.  So Macarron and I head to a shallow sandy bottom where on our knees in what seemed like no current, he had me ‘lose’ my regulator and recover it followed by flooding my mask and clearing it.  I had this moment of concern about clearing the mask as I remember vividly how panicked I once became during training.  And then I remembered that I had mastered it and got over the moment.  Honestly, it’s our minds that are truly our own worst enemy.  Whatever we believe is true.

So mask cleared, we were ready for our dive.  Visibility was pretty murky, but it would not have mattered as that dive was strictly about getting my buoyancy right.  After the previous dive, I now had new mental baggage to overcome.  But nothing a little practice didn’t help me remedy.  Though I could not tell you what we saw on that dive or the next.

Leaving that site, we headed out to a submerged platform in Academy Bay called El Bajo.  I remember that it was teeming with life, but I don’t remember what as once again, I was focused on the buoyancy in a 7mm wetsuit issue.  I do remember how odd the currents were there.  It was like you were being rocked back and forth in surge though we were at a depth of about 15 meters.  You could drop down to a wall and be in ‘normal’ current, but up on the top of that platform, it was a cradle movement.

I don’t know what contributed to this because I NEVER get seasick, but on the boat between sites, I was sure feeling nauseous.  I did the second dive anyway, but the minute I surfaced, I began puking and that went on for awhile.  Thinking back, I think it was a combination of things…nicorette gum to help me quit smoking and an ear that wasn’t totally healed thus creating perhaps a bit of vertigo?  Whatever, it was pretty embarrassing to be in the water vomiting while a bunch of experienced divers on board waited.  Never had that experience before and was now not at all sure I should ever go back in the water, let alone do it the following morning.  But, I only had a small portion of white rice for supper and ate nothing else for the rest of that day.  In the morning, I no longer felt as bad as I had for the rest of the day before, so I decided to give it one more go.

I suppose at that point, any rational person would have read the signs on the wall and given up.  But I have this memory of what diving used to mean to me.  It used to be the highlight of life.  I first learned to dive in Cozumel, Mexico and had a fantastic dive instructor who had done thousands of commercial dives.  I’m talking technical stuff where you are connected to a line and going way beyond recreationally deep.  Besides his qualifications, he had a way of inducing calm that I can now carry with me always.  I can still remember him sort of nodding and blinking at me as if to say, "Just calm down and take it easy."

I can remember the sense of flying beside an underwater alien landscape full of such strange and colorful creatures that nothing in this world could reproduce.  It was the first time in my life I had truly lived in the moment…what I just passed was no longer in my mind…what was coming up was not something I was thinking of…I just absorbed whatever was right in front of me in that moment.  That was back before Cozumel became such a tourist mecca and before tourists or global warming had damaged the reefs, so there was such an abundance of marine life and such incredible visibility that you would have to be blind not to be as smitten as I quickly became.

I went to Cozumel to take a break and decided to either head to isolated Tulum (now totally developed) or try a discovery dive, a ‘resort course’ that only teaches you enough to learn how to use the equipment before you’re off for a simple dive.  That did the trick and I spent the next four days in class learning how to dive to get my certification.  And then, on my fourth dive as a certified diver, there were only 4 of us out one day.  We went to a sandy bottom at about 60 feet and then through a small coral tunnel and on the other side, we were hanging above the abyss.  At first, I felt like I was either going to be sucked down or something was going to come up from the depths to eat me.  Once neither happened and I began to relax, then I was in awe of the color, so much so that even underwater, it brought tears to my eyes.  From there, we were pulled in the current beside a vertical wall of such bizarre and beautiful coral and fish in a way that felt like you were flying.  I don’t know which I enjoyed the most…the beauty or the feeling of flying, but either way, I was now completely hooked on diving.

In the winter of ‘95 or ‘96…no longer remember…my friend Mary gave her family the gift of scuba certification as Christmas presents.  At her house in Woodstock, she had a small indoor pool where they were doing training.  My son and I were up for a few days and one night, I helped him put on the gear and taught him enough to have a go under the water.  A couple months later, I offered him a trip to anywhere in the world for that summer.  He wanted to go diving.  So, after stateside training, we went to Cozumel for 10 days.  Another friend from NY came along (also a new diver) as well as some NYC policemen and firemen.  The same dive instructor from Christmas organized the trip.  It was fantastic having those firemen and policemen as they were more interested in partying at night, so rarely could any of them wake up early in the morning to actually make the dives.  Which meant they paid so our rate was lower, but we were usually a tiny group.

Both my son and my friend Debbie wanted to do another night dive. We had already done one, but I was terrified of night dives, especially there where a woman had been killed by a tiger shark at night.  The idea that I could not see what was approaching me was very, very ingrained and very scary.  But, if I didn’t go, they couldn’t go because there was a minimum number of people required.  So I agreed.  That dive turned out to be another of my great diving memories.  After hitting the sandy bottom and turning off our lanterns to acclimate, I realized the sea was absolutely full of phosphorescent plankton.  It was like being in outer space surrounded by a sea of stars the way we view them through a telescope.  Indeed, I quickly realized they would collect on my dive skin (nylon, no mm) and if I shook my arm, it was like sending stardust flying!  My friends, not even great drugs could reproduce that!  For some reason, I also remember that my buoyancy at that point was perfect so gliding through the darkness, lanterns pointed on the multitude of life at night, all of which is hidden during the day, was an experience I will never forget. It was so bizarre to watch these beautiful sea shells walking across the ocean floor.  I even found a specific rock fish endemic to that area that is usually difficult to spot due to its perfect camoflauge.  The divemaster later said he had never seen one that large.  Superb dive!

I will always associate the World Trade Center with diving.  I used to live so close and would look up to calculate the depths I had dived down to.  Plus, it was there, surrounding that building just after sundown that I first saw that incredible purplish-blue that had brought tears to my eyes in Cozumel.  I always looked for that color after that.  Only in New York and only in the depths have I seen that color.

If Macarron had not called me that evening to ask me to let him know whether or not I was diving that next day, I might not have showed up.  But when I felt better in the morning, I decided to go.  And boy am I glad I did!

There were a young divemaster on board with us that day…a kid who seemed like a kid.  There was a broker who lived on Wall Street, a guy probably in his early 30’s and a 24 year old who had recently been released from his mandatory 3 years in the Israeli army.  In the army, his job was diving.  The broker was doing a discovery dive, so went snorkeling while we did our first dive.  Once again, the dive started with me still remembering how to dive and focused on my buoyancy.  Apparently, after all this time, my air is still ‘good’.  Which means I don’t suck it down like a novice does.  Actually, on that first dive after my check dive, I apparently did not breathe enough and to add to the equation that caused me to get sick, I came up with a headache.

This is as good a time as any to digress to yet another memory: a live-aboard in the Texas Flower Gardens, the northernmost coral reef in the world off the eastern coast of Texas in the Gulf of Mexico.  Diminished visibility but back then, a absolute abundance of marine life and another of my great dive memories.  I was such a novice when I did that trip and looking back, they were quite irresponsible to take me.  The currents were so strong that if you let go of the descent line, they had to send a dinghy out to rescue you.  If you turned your head sideways, it took your mask off.  Serious currents and no drift dives.  You had to find your way back to the descent line to ascend and hold onto it for your safety stop.  And it’s not like the visibility was that great.  At one point on that trip, I got so lost.  I had lost my dive buddy and was alone.  I could not see anyone else nor the boat.  Oddly, I do not remember a feeling of panic, perhaps still fresh from my dive instructor teaching me that panic is your worst enemy when diving.  I do remember being alone underwater and deciding to try to swim against that current and ending up being pleased that I could actually reach a stationary position in the face of it.  No way could you move forward directly against the current.  You had to swim diagonally in a current that strong.  I remember working on not using as much air on that trip and once coming up with a nose bleed.  Back then, I was in my 30’s so I was young, strong and still invincible.  But the one memory from that trip that is the type of memory that caused me to keep going until I remembered how to dive on this trip was a day when there were millions of jellies in the water.  At one point, I remained alongside this small, tentacle-less jelly that had a band that ran fully around him.  In the band were tiny checks that were different colors of light.  They streamed round and round like an electrified marquis of color circling.  Inside was a tiny silver fish obviously using him as protection who’s tiny fish tale quivered back and forth at hummingbird speed.  I followed that jelly as long as I could, completely fascinated by such an otherworldly sight.  It was probably how and why I got lost.

I got lost on my 3rd dive this day in the Galapagos, too.  Probably following this incredible school of fish I felt enveloped by.  All of a sudden, I realized I could not see the divemaster or my Israeli buddy.  So I just waited a bit and finally, I could hear his bell.  The divemaster had a metal cylinder with a bell inside so when he spotted something, he could ring it so we would pay attention.  This day, again, no panic at all.  I knew that, worst case scenario, I could just ascend.  But the sound led me back to them.  And about 1/3rd of the way through this dive, I knew I now remembered how to dive, felt comfortable again and could relax and enjoy why you dive.  Not only that, it was there I began to realize why the Galapagos are one of the top 5 dive destinations in the world!  We were at Mosqueras or North Seymour, I can no longer remember nor did I log it the way I should have.

The marine life is spectacular!  Not only is there a huge variety, but the numbers are probably more healthy than anywhere I’ve been diving ever.  You don’t just have a few fish, you have huge schools that are either in the hundreds or thousands depending on the type of fish.  At one point, we swam over a sandy bottom that had at least hundreds of swaying garden eels peeking up out of the floor.  If you’ve ever seen footage of a snake charmer and a cobra, that’s what these garden eels reminded me of.  Sticking up out their holes, swaying seductively and just absolutely surreal to see such a huges number of them.  At some point, the neighborhood changed and now we were seeing hundreds of the chunky, large starfish on the sea bottom.  As far as I could see were starfish!

By now, in the Galapagos I have become so accustomed to white tipped reef sharks that they are just big fish. Lots of them on these dives.  I barely pay attention to them anymore.  I wanted to see the ‘real’ sharks. Coming in, we had seen so many Galapagos sharks that, at first, I thought they were dolphins there were so many visible fins.  Nope.  Galapagos sharks.  I was surprised not to see any on these dives, but I especially wanted to see hammerheads.  And on these dives, I got to see hammerheads!  No, not schools of hammerheads that you get to see at other Galapagos locations, but I have now seen hammerheads!

Again, because I did not document this at the time, I can no longer remember what I saw at the different locations, but it seemed like more of the same, which makes sense due to North Seymour and Mosqueras being side by side.  Lots of sea lions if you were close to shore.  Lots of white tipped reef sharks.  Lots of schools of fish (need to look up the type and from now on, will document immediately after my dive while it’s fresh).  Lots of garden eels, barracudas, rays of different types, bright blue nudibranches, etc.  One of the locations seemed like a nursery in that there were baby sharks that were not white tipped and tons of baby rays of various types including a baby manta!  At one point, I followed what seemed like a completely black eagle ray.  They are very distinct due to their face, but this guy had zero spots.  Must look that up.  Assume it was a baby.

Of course, I have no underwater housing, so zero photos. I’m not entirely sure I want to take photos underwater as I have no doubt I would focus in on whatever I’m trying to photograph and in the process, no doubt miss so much. I’ll try it one day to see the difference between diving with and without a camera.

By my 4th dive, I was a diver again and my professional diving buddy, the 24 year old Israeli and I were tight and both seemingly frustrated with the slow divemaster kid.  I let Macarron know later that he should only be out with a certain type as even this 24 year old who had just come from a month of partying in Montanita commented on how tattered his wetsuit was.  That for me was besides the point, but underwater, you would have to just wait and wait for him.  Which is a bit of a pain.  It would be worth it if you were rewarding for waiting by some great find he made, but that was not the case.  Nope, he’s too much of a kid who seems bored, but this is how he makes his money.  Not what I want in a divemaster.  Se la vie.

So at the end of my 3rd dive came yet another of my great diving memories…the ones mentioned above that I will carry with me forever.  As we ascended for our safety stop, I was looking down.  Below me were 3 distinct layers of life.  On the ocean floor were all of those starfish.  Just above the starfish I could see about 6 white tipped reef sharks swimming lazily around. And above the sharks were abundant schools of fish.  Like some surreal kaleidoscope, the life in the sea was a visual feast I will never forget.  No wonder the Galapagos is such a diver’s mecca!

I feel so happy and so privileged to have the opportunity to dive there.  And I am very glad to have found Macarron.  The Galapagos is full of dive shops with bad reputations and deservedly so from what I hear.  Macarron is an exception. He grew up as a fisherman in the Galapagos.  This is a man who has actually done illegal shark finning!  He made a very cool statement the first time I met and talked with him.  He attributed the owner of Scuba Iguana (where he worked for 10 years) as changing his life and the way he saw the world by giving him the opportunity to dive.  And by diving, his whole perspective on marine life changed.  Today, he is very concerned about conservation and so very knowledgeable about species.  The man can draw you an exact underwater map of every dive location in the Galapagos.  He knows the currents, the species, the variations by season and is the epitome of a pro.

The last time we spoke, he was telling me that the city of Puerto Ayora and the Province of the Galapagos had come to his office that morning.  They asked about his permits, apparently to taunt him.  Permits in the Galapagos are a crazy, tricky puzzle, but that’s for another time.  Macarron responds that he has his permits at which point, they let him know they have come, not to check on him, but to let him know that he is going to receive an award for being an outstanding example of what locals can do when they are as motivated as he is.

The Galapagos is a tricky culture where too many are motivated more by greed than by the rewards of hard work.  I might catch some heat for saying this, but it’s true.  Too many naturalist guides want the job because of the money and love of what they do is besides the point.  You read it time and time again in travel reviews: The guide makes all the difference in the world when you visit the Galapagos.  And there are far too few that fall into the great category.  Too many are there just for the money.  I’m guessing the same is true of divemasters.  I hear there are something like 500 certified divemasters in the Galapagos.  Which means some dive instructor who was a buddy accepted money for a certificate instead of these divemasters actually being trained.  Unbelievable to think you may be out with a divemaster who has no training, but merely bought a certificate.  Macarron is an exception on every front.  I’m a fan and in me, that doesn’t come lightly.  And wow, I have been diving in the Galapagos.  Next up: Schools of hammerheads and some day when I’m ready, the whale sharks of the north.  I hear they leave Wolf and Darwin and migrate south and east beginning in February.  I keep waiting to hear reports of sightings at more accessible locations.  I want to see them, but I don’t want to (nor can I afford to) pay $5000 for a week of live aboard diving.  Besides, I have no desire whatsoever to spend a week on a boat and still don’t understand how people do it.   I won’t even go into the pollution at sea most of these cruises dump.  Yuck, yuck and no thank you on the cruise front.