Wednesday, Cozumel

Sorry for the delay in posting.  I've been fighting the ear infection I acquired diving the Cenotes - see tomorrow's post.  So this day's blog was written after my return.

So..Cozumel...I appeared at Jason's shack around 8 AM and was a bit surprised to hear I'd be going to Cozumel to meet up with a different dive operation.  But Jason walked me down to the ferry dock, through picking up the ticket and standing in line.

There we were joined by Patrice, another divemaster, who was accompanying a diver to Cozumel.  Patrice was from France, but had lived in the US, but now in Mexico.  He had been a wine merchant in France.  His diver was a doctor from Mississippi.  I guess someone has to live there.  Eventually I found out she had done most of her diving in Okinawa during her military service.

Eventually we boarded the ferry and headed to the top deck.  As usual, on dives, I was so focused on the upcoming dive, that the ferry trip sort of passed me by.  Most of our fellow passengers were Mexicans on vacation. You could not see Cozumel from the mainland - it's about 15 miles away.  Immediately when we landed, the dive boat was docked at the pier and we headed there, boarded and quickly took off.

It was the four of us diving - Patrice, his diver, the Mexican divemaster and me.  We headed south along the waterfront to a spot dubbed "<name of divemaster>'s reef" - really the end of Santa Rosa wall.  I had been worried that a wall would be a precipice.  But it sounded like it was more of a steep slope, which would be ok with me.

We jumped off the boat.

and  headed down to a large coral head.

It was a drift dive.

Frankly, with all the stimulus of this trip, it is hard to remember particulars other than, in one way it was so impressive - total visibility, typical Caribbean flora and fauna - but totally wonderful - the dive I had always wanted to take.
 

The next dive - Paradise Reef - north of the first, another drift dive, was even more impressive.  My only disappointment was not seeing larger marine beings.  I think some of the scarcity was due to the recent storm.  And indeed, that is why we did not dive Santa Rosa wall.  For this reason, I would definitely want to return during non-hurricane season.

We surfaced on a line the divemaster launched to the surface and headed back to the dive shop, where a rooftop restaurant provided a much-appreciated lunch in a scenic location - by the water, under a thatched roof.  Afterward, we boarded the boat and were taken back to the ferry terminal. We were given a time to be back for the ferry and let loose to explore town.  I walked around the large square, assaulted by the vendors who have congregated to serve the cruise ships, but enjoying the young Mayan families.  Finally I bought a coke, just to ease the heat, and started back to the ferry.  Just then we heard cannon or rifle shots.  By the time I returned to the ferry terminal, a procession was passing.  The typical Catholic banners and the faithful, a band.  They proceeded onto the dock and boarded a small ship which later headed north.  It was the day of the saint of the fisherman.

I headed back onto the ferry and onto the top deck where I found Patrice.  This leg of the journey had a band heading to work on the mainland who played for the 40 minute transit.  I got off the ferry and walked the 2 blocks to opposite the bus terminal where Jason was waiting.  Today he drove me back to the resort.  Though I had reserved the shuttle bus, I was not about to turn down a private shuttle.

Off to dinner and early to bed for the diving on the next day - the Cenotes!

Diving, Part III - Playa reefs

Tuesday, the first dive day, after retraining the fiancee, the skipper powered up the boat and we headed north to our first dive.  Jason explained that, due to Tropical Storm Matthew that had passed to the south, and the wind and rain that had been happening the last three days, the current was still strong, but he was taking us to a reef that was shaped like a hand, with fingers.  When you were between the fingers, it was relatively calm.  When you rounded the end of a finger, the current was going to be swift.

We peeled off the boat, falling backward into the water and immediately swimming to the bow to the anchorline, and down we went.  White sandy bottom next to the reef, and, oh yes, the current was swift.  This was more than a drift dive; it was a drift-with-a-fast-current dive.  I was amazed by the way the ocean appeared at the bottom - white, white sand going off into the distance, where it formed an ethereal border with the blue water.  The visibility was great, but so great, with just a flat bottom, the transition from white sand to blue water formed a dramatic horizon.  Jason started showing us critters on the reef, but if you wanted to really take a look, you had to hold onto a rock.

 
We had a moment of confusion when Jason pointed out a black and white moray and put my hand on a rock to hold on and take a look.  I thought he meant to hang on there and he was going to bring the others to show them.  Next thing I knew they were all trying to swim back to me, wondering if I was in trouble!  We got the misunderstanding straightened out, and on we went.  It was exciting going around the fingers, but a relief to be in the quiet between the fingers, though we were still moving along at a good clip.

I think we were all a little overwhelmed by the current on the dive.  When we got back to the boat, Jason promised a peaceful dive in the next location.  Again, falling from a sitting position backward into the water, we swam to the anchor line and descended.  Again the beautiful underwater horizon.  But this time, just enough current to be able to fly over the landscape without effort.  It was a nice, peaceful dive after the first one, and I started to take in the Caribbean landscape of sponges, lobsters, shrimp, corals and rocks colored brilliant hues by low-level life.

These first two dives, I was focused on reviving the skills I mastered in my Advanced Open Water Dive Certification in Kauai September 2009 - weighting, puffing just enough air into my vest once I bottomed in order to achieve neutral buoyancy, doing a minimal amount of adding and removing air from the jacket to go up and down, using my breath instead.

You can see many more photos and video footage at Jason's web site:  Fantasea Diving, Playa del Carmen, QR, Mexico
The "News" link has lots of great video:  Videos of Playa del Carmen


We surfaced, satisfied and motored a short distance back to the beach directly opposite the dive shack.  Rain was threatening by this time, and we happily waded into shore.  After depositing my gear, I went next door - described in another post - and was ushered back onto the beach where I lingered, enjoying grouper under the umbrellas out of the rain.

After lunch, I wandered up Avenida Quinta, avoiding the salespeople, stopped for a frappachino at a Starbucks, and made it about a mile north to the point to meet the shuttle from the hotel at 3 PM.  While I was trying to figure out where, exactly, the shuttle bus stopped, a guy in front of his shop offered me a chair as he confirmed where the bus stopped.  I was a bit wary at first.  But we ended up sitting there and talking for a good 15 minutes.  Like so many, he spoke pretty decent English, and he was appreciative of my efforts to speak Spanish.  And, like so many, he was a wonderful conversationalist.  He had worked in Oklahoma as a welder.  He could work as a welder in Mexico too, but he actually made more money selling to the tourists, even though it was not his shop.  Up to $1000 a week.  The biggest problem in Mexico, he said, was how long the hours were.  He worked 14 hour days in the shop.  But it was easy work compared to welding 14 hours a day.  He was from Veracruz and had come to the Yucatan for work.  This interaction was one of many I had with the Mexican people in this area - pleasant, eager to connect on a human level, warm and emotional.

Finally the bus came, and I saw that the bevy of tourists waiting 25 feet away were from the resort, and I hustled over.  The bus driver checked off my name on the list (you had to make a reservation), and we headed back through the back roads, just like the cab the day before.  This was the only time I ended up taking the shuttle bus back.  I got back to my villa and fell into bed, only rousing myself at 8 to go to dinner.

Diving, Part II

Jason's dive shack was everything I expected it to be.  Of course I had seen his picture and the environs on the internet.  But there it was - an 8 x 10 shack across the road from the prototypical Mexican beach bar.    A motley crew of hangers-on who filled various roles - not an easy job to run a dive operation in Mexico.  Off to the left, an entrance to a restaurant with tables on the sand in front of the shack.  When I returned from diving the first day, I asked Jason where was a good place to have lunch.  He suggested his neighbor, or a place up on fifth avenue to the north two blocks and then left - a carnitas place.  Oh, do I love carnitas.  And I recently read what parts of pork are in it!  I opted for the neighbor bar. They gave me a menu and I went for the fried fish - in butter - and a mojito.  It was a good deal.  But by the time the bill came, I think they charged me double.  I was so happy, under my umbrella, sheltering from the rain and taking it all in, that I didn't really care. 

On the block leading down to Jason's shack, which is right at the edge of the beach, there are at least three hotels, advertising European rates - $40 - $60 a night.  I peeked in, and they all looked fine, and the people coming out looked fine too.  Jason attested to these lodgings.  Of course there is the Royal resort at the north end of town, and my super-deluxe place.  But if I returned, I would be happy to stay in one of these places in the quaint (though hardly 30 year old) atmosphere around Avenida Quinta, even though Avenida Quinta is very touristy.  But it has a certain charm, and, with the mix of Mexicans, Europeans, some Americans, it feels safe.  People told me it is safe in the evenings too.  Police make their presence known, and the strip has familiar amenities scattered between interesting-looking hotels and restaurants and bars.

Across the street they were advertising Temazcal experiences, with a Mayan shaman.  Now, I live just north of the neighborhood of Temescal.  Temescal is a sweatlodge, and I love living in the Temescal Creek drainage, dreaming of sweatlodges peppered here and there.  It's a mystical place.

On to diving.  Tuesday, soon after I arrived, the young engaged couple arrived with whom we would be diving.  From Vancouver.  The guy had recently certified and had great stories to tell of the beauty of diving in the Pacific Northwest.  We put on our wetsuits and dragged our gear across the sand to the boat, and Jason and his hangers-on dragged the tanks.  Waded out chest-high and clambered aboard.  This was not your usual dive boat.  Maybe it could hold six, but we had four.   The ladder up was the aluminum-bar type that hurts your feet when you have 45 lbs of tanks and weights on your back.

Off we went about a mile south to a shallow spot where Jason could take the engagee through her paces, since she had not dived since she was 12.  Her boyfriend and I snorkeled around inside the reef.  The storm dampened the visiblity of aquatic life, but it was exciting to be getting acquainted with the environs.  At one point a small blue-stripped fish swam toward me, curious.  I love that type of interaction.