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.

Diving

Three days of incredible diving.  I only have 23 minutes left on my internet card here at the resort, so I'll flesh out this post in more detail later.

First day, from a small boat off Playa del Carmen.  The weather was still mixed, and the current at the first site very swift. 

Wednesday, ferry to Cozumel and right onto the dive boat where we dove two incredible reefs, the water so clear you were almost tempted to take off your mask...huge purple, yellow-orange and various translucent colored corals.

Today, the cenotes in the jungle, two next to each other, the first named KuKulcan "The Snake" in Mayan, the second named Chac-mool, "The Jaguar."  The trail through Cenote KuKulcan is 462 feet; the trail through Chac-mool is 1320 feet.  When Polo, the cavern guide, took me down the path to look at the pools in the ground, I really wasn't so sure.  I hadn't felt this shaking in my heart for a long time.  But I had committed, and had faith it would not only be fine, but be incredible.  That it was.  I had expected the cenote to be a bottomless hole.  Instead both were really cavern dives, with a somewhat small opening pool, where one descended and then proceeded horizontally into the cavern, sometimes through tunnels.  A few highlights - the views of the entrance, the stalactites, the air hole where the tree roots dip down to drink.  In many ways, easy dives - no waves, no potentially dangerous animals or boats - but instead the eeriness of being underwater, under the earth, being strong mentally to maintain control, at the same time, trying to relax and enjoy the dive.  Truly a unique experience.  I bought the video and the pictures and will post.

Later Thursday, I started packing since I'll be leaving here Saturday at 10.  And tomorrow, Friday, I'm off to Chichen Itza.  Tulum is probably the most beautiful ruin, but CI is the largest and most impressive.  Couldn't miss it.

I'll post more when I get back to Oakland.

Monday

Up bright and early to go into Playa del Carmen to Jason's Fantasea Diving for my first dive.  Playa was pretty much what I expected, but I was surprised when the cab driver, Moises, said he couldn't drive any farther and I would have to walk the rest of the way with my dive gear. Fantasea Dive Shop is at Calle 2 and Avenida Quinta, and both 5th and 10th avenues are pedestrian only.   The avenues are numbered, 5, 10, 15, etc., no 6, 7 etc.  Makes the town seem bigger and more cosmopolitan, I guess.
Fantasea Dive Shop, Playa del Carmen, QR, Mexico

Down two blocks watching the early morning activities, across Avenida Quinta, "Fifth Avenue," and down the hill toward the beach.

And there, in the midst of all this, stood Jason.

Bad news, he said, the water is just too choppy to go out, the current will be too strong, and the viz will be poor.  Jason has his dive shop in a little thatched-roofed shack, the third oldest building in Playa.  Playa is only about 30 years old.  The development of Cancun and environs is recent.  But that is another story.  We chatted for a while.  After all, we will be diving for the next couple days. 

How to save the day?  Well, I'm in Playa, part way to Tulum, with the bus station 2 blocks away.  So off I went.  Information, as always, was spotty.  So we ended up waiting 40 minutes for the next bus for a 45 minute ride to Tulum.  I could have taken the white mini-buses for $2.50 one way, instead of $3.50, from the same general area.  But, when it's time to return, you end up sitting forever in the bus until the driver gets a full load.

I teamed up with a couple from Arkansas - Jason said you had to take a cab from the highway to Tulum so I suggested we share a cab once we got there.  Eventually, the bus to Tulum boarded and we took off in the typical plush Mexican bus, with a Hanna Montana movie and all.  The bus dropped us at the Tulum ruin entrance, rather than the town of Tulum, so no cab was necessary.  At Tulum, we meandered toward a booth that had guides to offer.  The Arkansas couple opted for the "fun" excursion, where they would tour the ruins themselves and then board a boat to view the ruins from the sea.  Wanting a tour guide, and at the cheaper "3 for 1" rate, I convinced a French-Canadian uncle/niece duo to let me join their tour in French.  It does come in handy speaking another language!  We ended up with a most delightful guide - half Italian, half Mayan who was perfectly willing to repeat the explanation in English if I missed a fine point.  The uncle could speak English as well, so we all got along famously between French, English and Spanish. 

We entered by one of the northern portals.

 
Tulum is the only ruin situated right by the sea - you see it gracing many advertisements for the Yucatan.  But there is much more to the ruins than what is pictured - the chief's house, houses of nobles, foundations, an observatory, spread over several acres.  Our guide had lots of interesting tidbits as we made our way through the ruins, among them, that the archeologists still don't know where the people who lived at Tulum went to the bathroom!  As was the pattern, these stone ruins were the "power centers" of the community - where the priestly class lived.  The ordinary folks, who contributed their young for sacrifices, lived outside the walls in grass huts. They made their living off the sea and trade.  Tulum had access to both land and sea trade routes and which made it an extremely important trade hub, especially for the obsidian trade.  Coral, shells and  chicle (chewing gum), feathers, copper (from the interior) and jade were also important exports.

As we progressed through the ruins, it got hotter and hotter under the midday sun...so incredibly hot!  we were soaked with sweat.  And we jumped from time to time as iguanas emerged from what seemed an innocent perspective.  They were big, munching on the grass, sometimes with a baby nearby.  Finally we got to the amazing view over the water during a brief period of sun.

The beach below was so white with water of such a light aqua blue hue it was hard to believe it was real!  The wooden walkway down was inviting, but the sea was full of detritus from the storm.  And I had neither a bathing suit or a camera, having taken this trip on a whim.  Now I know - always take a bathing suit with you in the Yucatan.  This knowledge will serve me well when we go to Chichen Itza.

I saw the sky filling with clouds and, even though rain would be a relief from the heat, preferred to stay dry.  I headed back to the road and went to the bus shack.  I had gotten poor information - the bus did not arrive on the hour, every hour.  The schedule was posted on a board - it would be another half hour before it arrived.  The bus station manager sat behind his booth.  I stepped outside the shack toward the road and sat on a concrete wall - it was cooler.  Realizing I had some time, I decided to risk the ice cream the young girl had tried to sell me on the way in.  I walked over to her shack and paid an exorbitant price - $3 I think - for a cone.  But boy, what a relief.  And delicious coconut ice cream.

I find these sort of interludes were fascinating.  After about 10 minutes a tourist couple arrived and sat in the open-air building until they too figured out it was cooler outside.  Then a thin, young, foreign? man arrived, spoke to the manager, and eventually settled opposite me, reading a book.  He looked like someone doing a lot of traveling.  A group of 4 young men arrived with suitcases walking down the road from behind us, probably heading to one of the rustic beach hotels.  At one point, the station manager walked over and stuck his head out to look at the sky - "Lluvia," he said.  This sort of image makes an indelible mental imprint that helps with learning a language - "Rain" - a strange word.  But now I know it is derived from the Latin "pluvia," and we see the cognate in French, "pleuvoir." Maybe the "pl" to "ll" (pronounced "ya") transformation is something I should look for in other words.  And indeed, by the time we were on the bus, the rain had started.  It broke when we got to PDC, and I walked across the street to get a cab.  The cabs were lined up, with the drivers in crisp uniforms standing around chatting.

Tuesday will be the first day of diving.  But right now, writing this Wednesday night, I need to get dinner and to bed for my third day of diving.  Just a prelude, the first diving day was off Playa, and today at Cozumel.  Much to tell!  Tomorrow a cenote!

Sunday

Wow!  3 -4 days have gone by...as they say, time flies when you are having fun!  Sunday I just kicked back.  It took at least a day to destress sufficiently to start enjoying things.  The resort is incredibly beautiful.  At the same time, it's much more insular than to my tastes.  They don't make it easy to get away.  But, I have my plans, but finally, on Sunday, I decided to relax and accept what the resort had to offer - a safe, secure, beautiful place in an incredible location.  I'll be going in to Playa del Carmen tomorrow.

Weather was still recovering from Tropical Storm Matthew.  Although the storm passed much to the south, the spinoff weather made for a cloudy sky and churned up water.  We had a massive rain storm later in the day.  After a great buffet breakfast at the resort restaurant, I decided to pick the best of what the resort had to offer, and selected the cheap $59 Swedish massage which entitled me to use of the gym and sauna and steam rooms.  With the wind, clouds and choppy sea, snorkeling in the ocean was not very inviting.  After a nice workout, though dripping with sweat even in the air conditioning, I headed to the spa where I changed into a robe and was ushered downstairs to the sauna and steam.

What an incredible place!  Truly the most first class spa I have been to.  The steam room was scented, and there was an amazing jacuzzi.  The sauna had little towels placed for each person to sit on.  On to the massage, which was truly one of the best I have had.  I lingered afterwards, doing an hour of hydrotherapy, then drinking tea in the lounge with my feet up.

By the end, I had spent half the day working out and enjoying the spa.  I went down to the beach at sunset and spent half an hour relaxing, watching the waves and wind.  A quick swim in the amazingly tiled, huge pool, and on to dinner in the palapa restaurant.

Arriving...

Always a panic, not so much about getting up at 3:30 AM, but anxiety that I WON'T get up at 3:30 AM.  As it was, I was up on the dot (not too painful), but half an hour was just not enough, and I ended up leaving at 4:15 rather than 4.  That translated into (finally!) being dropped off at the United SFO terminal just in time to check my bags at 5:00 AM on the dot.  I had forgotten about United's 45 minute rule.  And since my plane left at 5:45 AM, 45 minutes exactly is too close!  Lucky for me I had checked in on line and read the page about where the "Bag drop" was for Internet checkees.  Anyway it was a fast-paced walk out to gate 83.  Nice 767 to Denver, with an aisle seat in Premier Plus.  Managed to sleep most of both legs of the trip.  Recommend the Chili Cheesesteak place in Denver airport terminal B.  Plane to Cancun was smaller, but still had the best seat behind first class.  Breezed through customs, made my way to through a phalanx of touts to the right bus drivers for the transfer. 

The Yucatan is so, so much more developed than San Carlos.  I love my little funky San Carlos where the town and the expats mingle more freely.  The road to Playa del Carmen (PDC) was lined with mega-resorts, albeit not highrises like Cancun (so I hear), but low-rise timeshare or all-inclusive resorts about a mile from the highway, right on the ocean, each fronted by a massive and showy entrance.  Everything was up to 1st world standards, with the highway, etc..  After driving from Hermosillo I would have no problem driving here.  On the other hand, not dealing with a car lifts a certain level of anxiety. 

Seems like most of the people on the bus to the resort rarely venture out of the resort, unless on tours.  This was not what I had planned.  In Hawaii, yes, there are some days I don't leave the resort - but there I feel I am in Hawaii.  Here, surrounded by couples from middle america, with all the conveniences of home, with a beautiful beach, but on my first visit to the area, I was eager to get out and about and experience Mexico.

And, I found that the resort really is not set up to facilitate getting into Playa del Carmen as I had planned.  I think I'll be able to manage between cabs, shuttles back to the resort and maybe the bus.  In retrospect, though, it would have been better to rent a car.  Nevertheless, besides 4 days of scuba and one of ruins with Jason of Fantasea Diving ( 1 day cenotes, 1 day Cozumel), I should be able to squeeze in a night visit to Chichen Itza, a day visit to Tulum, and Puerto Moreles, as well as exploring PDC. 

So, I finally got to the Royal Haciendas.  It is very nice.  Everyone here speaks much more English than in San Carlos, although maybe it is just because my Spanish is getting better.  Very beautiful and clean 2 bedroom unit with  balconies looking over the pools, and, there it was, the hot tub on the balcony.

And a view of the Yucatan landscape and ocean from the entrance to the unit.  I had to go down to the ocean as soon as possible. 

Tropical storm Matthew is over Honduras and Guatamala, and we're seeing the side-effects.  They were changing the yellow flag to red just as I arrived at the beach.  The introductory materials had said don't bring your surfboard to the Caribbean, but this was a surfing ocean.  Blue, blue Caribbean, and, dipping my toes into the water, not too warm, not too cold, but the 3mm wetsuit is still probably justified.  Lovely beach chairs under palapas.  I plopped down and just listened to the waves, enjoyed the warm wind.  Oh, and the humidity.  It is overwhelming, especially with the atmospheric wetness.

I'm starting to soak in the Yucatan.  Flying in, you could see areas that were clearly on their way to becoming sinkholes, cenotes.  And the long straight roads similar to the ones the Mayas built, even though they did not use the wheel.  Flat, jungle, barely divided between ocean and land, swampy.  Those with Mayan ancestry are easy to identify.  Walking back to my villa, then down the walkway on the backside, looking out over the dark, steamy flat Yucatan plateau, I can almost see the temples, the fires, the sounds of civilization - the drumming, the howls.

Last day of prep

OK, somehow I have to be ready to leave home tomorrow morning before 4 AM (ugh).  This has got to be one of the longest pre-trip periods, but it seems like the more time you allow, the more complex it gets.  Hopefully I will get a good night's sleep though.
- checked in online with United; had to enter more TSA info - passport # etc.  Surprise- one bag is free.  Must be because of going internationally.
- called Wells Fargo to let them know that credit and debit cards will be used in Mexico
- WF said it's not necessary to call on-line services (800-869-3557) to alert them; use the international # on the back of the card
7 PM - down to the last round of selection for what I'll take along.  Then have to fit it in the bags!  and weigh them.  Taking a break and swimming around PDC

- Made reservation at SFO FastTrack - $89 for 8 days
- United offered me to upgrade on my international flight - when I went thru the hoops they said my ticket was not eligible - it's a ticket on miles
- 10:40 PM  Done!  not too bad - 2 1/2 hours later than I wanted, but everything is done right - copies of important documents in the right places, all the right scuba equipment.  Off on the adventure!