Take it Easy

I felt a tightness in my chest this afternoon when I left the shores of Utila, bound for home and the cold. I have to say that it was an unfamiliar tightness, one that I haven't felt all that often. I spent a good portion of the ferry ride to La Ceiba trying to piece together what the feeling is all about. Now I sit in the same hostel I did nearly two months ago, this time wearing a jacket and feeling as if my toes might be a little numb from the cold. Oh how things have changed.

It is hard to  fully grasp how things have changed actually. So much has. My world outlook isn't much different. My politics are largely the same. Religion certainly hasn't entered into the picture. So what has? I came to Utila looking for answers. I don't think I realized this when first arriving, but I have come to understand that now. And in a way, Utila has provided a lot of them. Maybe not all of them, but certainly a number.

Post-graduation was a really confusing time for me. A second ago I typed the line "I knew exactly what I didn't want to do" and had to delete it because even that isn't true. I didn't even really have a clear idea of what I didn't want to do. I just knew that I had to do something. But what? What called to me? I didn't have an answer. For the first time in my life I didn't have an answer. And it was really scary. Really scary.

I left home for Utila with a nonchalance that I have never known before. Going away has always been a big deal for me. Even leaving to go to school each semester was a big deal. For the first time I feel like I just shrugged, jumped on the plane, and let the adventure take me where it wanted. Because of that I think that I have learned far more than I ever thought that I would. A trip that was just about doing some diving has become a trip about much more than diving.

I am finding it difficult to know where to start. Maybe a fresh slate is the best place. I came to Utila feeling like I had a completely fresh slate. No one knew who I was, no one knew my story. I could be anyone I wanted to be. I quickly found out that I could do anything I wanted to as well. Cocaine? Sure, a few bucks in the right hand and I could be snorting cocaine. Wild partying every single night? That was there too. I could be cool or I could be chill, I could be the kid from a small town or the one that pretends to be tough and from a big city. No one knew me. I'll say that I decided, but it was nothing as significant or definite as that. I just became Andrew. If that sounds a little crazy that is okay. Because it is a little crazy. But just a little bit. I firmly believe that in life we can either be ourselves or we can pretend to be someone else, and I think most people spend a lot of their lives pretending they are someone else. The people that are the happiest are happy because they are not pretending to be anyone else. They are just following their hearts and being the best person they know how to be. And that is what I have tried to do these past two months. The result has surprised me a little bit. Not because I have become a party hound or a cocaine addict. As you can imagine, those things didn't and don't appeal to me. That isn't me. But the person that I am, deep inside, is not necessarily the person I thought I was. The person that I have found to be Andrew is not the same person I thought Andrew was when he came to this island (stopping with third person, it is getting way too confusing).
I found that I can be the kind of person that people genuinely want to have around and spend time with. I've never considered myself to be that social of a person and I have never, ever, been the life of the party. It'll sound silly if you know him, and I am sure I am going to hear about this from him, but I've never considered myself to be a "Pat". What I have found though is that I can be if I just let go of everything and be myself. I can make people laugh, I can tell interesting stories. I can share parts of myself with people who I essentially don't know without fear. And I have found that people really, truly do enjoy being around me. I feel super ego maniacal right now writing all of this, but in a way that can't be helped. And I don't mean it in that way. I don't mean it in the "hey everyone look at me I am awesome" way. I mean it in the "I just found out some things about myself that I truly didn't know before, look at me" way.
I guess what I am saying is that this past month I have discovered how real I can be. How good it feels to be real. I have been 100% Andrew since stepping on the island. It hasn't been without its speedbumps and problems. But it has been eye opening. I feel as if I could go anywhere right now and find a life, find friends and a place. That wasn't a feeling I came here with. That isn't something I knew when I arrived here.

I did an awful job explaining that but I hope you understood it at least a little bit. If not, oh well.

Coming here also answered a few of the "what next" questions I had been having. And these were huge. Not having a path, not having "something to do", was really hard for me. It still is really hard for me. But it has gotten easier. Being here I have realized that no one in the world knows what they want to do. What colleges do to you is lie about what you "should" be feeling as you complete it. They tell you that after four years you'll have a degree and a path and a vision. Which isn't necessarily untrue, it just isn't the full truth. What you aren't told, or what isn't demonstrated in "the way of the world" is that the chances of you knowing what you want to do are slim, and the only way to know is to experience the world. How many people did I meet these past two months had no idea what they wanted to do? Most of them. And most of them were okay with that. In a way it taught me to be okay with it too. I don't need to know anymore. I just need to go out and do and by doing that, life will fall right into my lap. Before I realize what is happening I will be doing something, will be going somewhere.

Which brings me to my "what next". I fell in love with diving on the island of Utila. I had an inkling before, but now I know for sure. I love it so incredibly much. I guess I have written a lot about diving but never explained why I love it so much. I am not even sure that I could explain it. Its really nothing more than the fact that once I get underwater I feel at peace and I feel present. And every single time I go underwater it is the coolest experience I have ever had. Every dive has something that makes it special. Take today for instance. I did two dives that were, by and large, average. I didn't see anything spectacular. The conditions were pretty shitty, all things considered. But they were absolutely amazing. I was diving sidemount and while both dives lasted about an hour, I would have stayed down for twice that long. I just love being underwater. I can't describe it beyond that. I took my mask off and just hung motionless, with nothing but my breathing. It was unreal. And I want to do that every single day until I get tired of it. Which may be never. Rather than do some mediocre job for a couple of months at a time to pay for dive trips, why not skip all of that and work directly in the dive industry? That is my "what next?" I want to be a scuba instructor. There is so much about diving that I want to learn. For the first time in a long time I feel hungry to learn. Teach me about dive equipment. Teach me how to fill tanks and mix gasses. Teach me how to dive in a cave. I want to learn so much and there is so much to learn.
So my next step is to save up enough money to do IDC (instructor development course) somewhere, probably in Thailand. Diving is what I want to do, and that is the next step. Period.

So when it all comes down to it, what was that tightness in my chest? Everything I have written is an attempt to answer that, but none of it really does. Part of that is my fault. I am having trouble being coherent and writing what I want to say tonight.
Ultimately, the tightness in my chest was because I was leaving a life that was really really easy. Doing something you love is really, really easy. Waking up each morning to dive was the easiest thing I have ever done. Spending each moment of each day just being who you are and not pretending to be someone else is really easy. Having friends is not always easy. But when you realize who your friends are and realize how good their friendship feels, and you make sure that the time you spend is around them, that is really easy.

And all of a sudden it has hit me. No really, it just hit me in the face. Sitting here on this bed, realizing that I am actually starting to sweat again, I have realized what it is all about. Its about taking it easy. The lesson Utila has taught me is that life should be easy. And any time it isn't, you need to make a change so that it is easy. That sounds as if I am ignoring all the hard times, making them less than they are. Trust me, I am not. I know hard times, and I know just how unbelievably hard they can be. But life should be easy. We should all work to cultivate an easy life. When life is easy, it is really, really good. It feels great. Life has, for the most part, been easy these last two months, and I know that I will miss that greatly.

I also know that I will miss the diving. Getting up each morning and diving was the absolute best way to spend time. Life won't be the same without it.
I will miss my friends here. It is strange to know that you will likely never talk to someone again, much less see them again. By and large that is true of most of the people I have met here. Hopefully I will see some of them again. There are some that I know I will, and that makes leaving a tad bit easier.

And so comes to an end one of the least satisfying blog posts I have ever written. I mostly just feel frustrated because I don't think that I expressed myself how I wanted to. But I guess it will all just have to wait until you see me next. Maybe then I will be able to express the things I feel. Then again, maybe not.

I thank you for taking the time to read this blog and look at the photos. I have loved all the feedback and it has been really rewarding once again to share my stories with the people I love. I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I have.

Until next time, take it easy. It is the best thing you can do.
El Gringo signing off

P.S. SNURRRRRRRRR (that makes sense to someone, don't worry)

Whale Shark Goddess Gets Her Due

I lied. I told a terrible, vicious lie and I hope you will all forgive me for it. Earlier, when I said that I only had one post left, I lied straight to all your faces (literally, since you were likely looking at a screen reading my words, my melodious voice ringing in your head). This is not my last post. There will be one more (this time I am telling the truth, I promise). But I had to write this post. Had to. It occurred to me today, while visiting my neighbor and dear friend Alex, that someone very important has been left out of these blogs. It seems to me that “shoutouts” or mentions in the blog have become something of a treat for people. I didn’t necessarily intend it this way, but I am glad that people recognize references I make and that they enjoy any “airtime” they might be getting. On the flipside to this are, of course, all the people who have yet to make it in. This is not an insult on those people. Au contraire. It merely means that your time has not yet come (hi Stinkydog!). But it will. Sooner or later I promise!

The reason I had to write tonight’s post is because if I did not mention this person, I feel as if a part of my “story” here on Utila would not be complete. So, without further ado, blog meet Viviana. Viviana…oh wait, you’ve already met. A lot!

Viviana is the mother to my friend Alex and a very special person. She had been staying with Alex for most of the time I have been here and has only recently left, to return again in a few short days (she needed a vacation from her vacation, who can blame her!). Most on the island know her simply as the Whale Shark Goddess, for when she was on the Old Tom they were sure to have a significant whale shark sighting. Day after day after day. After day. It got a little ridiculous actually. By the end of the “perfect week”, people on the dock were actually getting annoyed when Old Tom would return and all aboard would be whooping and gushing over their glorious encounters with the magnificent creature. I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes a time or two. But only out of jealousy.

Alex and Viviana are two wonderful women that I have been truly blessed to be able to spend time with while on the island. Being wholly “normal” people (normal is a very, very good thing on this island. It means you don’t have an addiction, besides monkey la la’s of course, and it means that you would actually function in a real society. Normal people are shockingly rare here). Ahem, let me start that sentence again. I hate continuing a sentence after a long aside. Being wholly “normal” people, I am quite certain that spending so much time with them kept me sane. And healthy. But for the fresh veggies that they so lovingly prepared I would likely be veggie free since ’93. And dead.

The three of us had many a fun night together, watching Lifetime channel movies, talking about how I should maybe, sorta, kinda start my map, or playing Settlers of Catan. Oh yes, I taught them how to play. One day I found a travel Settlers board in a random box and you better believe I snapped that up quick. One night, when a friend of theirs named Ethan was visiting (have I mentioned him? Can’t remember), we decided to break it out. Our only mistake was waiting until eight pm to start. As those who have played know, the first game often takes hours due to all the rule explaining. That being said, I am not sure I have seen two beginners (Ethan had already played before. Although, with his trade decisions, you could hardly tell. Kidding!) pick up the game faster. It was remarkable. Alex stormed her way to a victory and left the rest of us whimpering in defeat (don’t worry, I put her in her place the following evening. Several times. And boy was that one spicy enchilada). It was almost like being home, playing Settlers with the family. Those will be times and memories I look back on fondly for a long time to come.

What more do you want in life besides Settlers and Monkey La La's? Nada.

And so, you can see why Viviana needed a post. My Utila story would not be complete without it. Like I said, they are remarkable women, mother and daughter. Viviana reminds me, in a lot of ways, of what my grandmother must have been like as a mother forty years ago. Always quick with a smile, always making those around her happier and fuller. Heck, Granny, you’re still like that! Viviana, I thank you for the special times. I especially thank you for that delicious meal you cooked Ethan and I. Yuuuummmmm. I hope that you will take this post as a demonstration of how much I enjoyed spending with you, and I hope that some day we will get to dive Pinnacle together. Like Alex said today, there are a lot of Pinnacles in the world, so it doesn’t necessarily have to be here! Until then, I wanted to make sure you lived on eternally in the pages of my blog. I know it is a dream come true.

I am sad that I will miss her return, but I know that all of Utila will benefit from it. And maybe, just maybe, Alex will get to see this whale shark that we’ve been talking so much about.

Until next time,

Gringo with dear, dear friends that only occasionally make fun of his gringo-ness signing off.

Snorkel Tested, Utila Approved

Boy, you tell a few people you have a blog and all of a sudden there is serious demand for some product! Forget about having a life people, I gotta blog! Now I know why the newspaper industry is so competitive (up until the internet was invented and people realized they could get it for free! Yay internet!) Unfortunately I have been under the weather the last couple of days and blogging has been the last thing on my mind. Puking and sleeping were on the forefront, if you were curious. I blame it on too much fun, too little sleep, possibly a little too much to drink, and too much pizza that might have had something bad in it. What you are left with is Andrew in bed for four days thinking he is going to go crazy because his "cozy" room of the last month is starting to feel more like a prison cell.

But alas, I survived. Thank God. Because without me, there would be no blog, and without a blog...well I think some people would be lost. So for everyone who has been diligently waiting, I apologize for the wait and hope that this is up to your standards. I would also like to note that according the the statistics of my blogging website, the most viewed post in my blog wasn't even written by me. What up with that people?!! Alex is fantastic and all, and a much better blogger than she gives herself credit for, but I'm the gringo here! She actually speaks Spanish and has street smarts! Don't you want to hear from the bumbling American??
Anyways, back to the blogging. Got a little carried away there with the wanting love and attention thing. It's fine, many years from now my therapist will pinpoint this moment as the root of all my problems. No big deal. Carry on.

So, Halloween. Anyone who knows me knows that there are several absolute truths about Andrew. #1) If the house or kitchen is dirty for much longer three days, OCD kicks in and I quickly devolve into a human swiffer/clorox wipe . #2) If I don't get a tight twelve hours of sleep, I get cranky. And even if I get a tight twelve, but you make fun of me for sleeping more than the average panda bear, I will be cranky. And finally, #3) I hate Halloween. I hate it I hate it I hate it. If God designed a hell for me it would consist of an eternally dirty house that I can never clean because it is Halloween every single night and I am forced to dress up and prepare. Ugh. Something about dressing up just doesn't jive with me. And being social? Forget it. That's Ally's department, not mine!

Lucky me though, I have great friends on the island and between them and my snorkel test, I actually enjoyed my Halloween this year. Let's recap.

The evening started with me sitting in my room hydrating, thinking of all the excuses I could use for not wearing a costume. "I'm allergic to fun" and "It's against my religion" were the leading choices. Finally, Alex called me up to her pad and insisted that we come up with a sweet costume. We decided to go with Cookie Monster, as she had some blue shorts that matched a blue shirt I had and, well that is about the extent of it. She crafted some eyes out of cardboard and paper, slapped them on a headband and all of a sudden, I could actually pass as The Monster. The only problem was that she alternatively gagged until she couldn't breath and laughed until she couldn't breath due to the shorts she had loaned me. They were...short. I thought they were attractive but apparently chalk white, hairy thighs aren't for everyone. Huh.
Tom, another DM who lives two doors down from Alex, came over to see how likely it was that everyone at this party would be in costume. Which really meant, "can I get away with not wearing one?". The answer was no, of course, this is Utila and people would dress up on any day they could if you gave them an excuse. So Tom disappeared to talk to his fiance Aggie and returned several minutes later wearing a skirt and a bikini top. Now that's more like it!
Somehow better able to stomach me in a sarong and a bikini top, Alex loaned me one of her tops and I provided my own sarong. Kidding. She loaned me that too. A bandana from Aggie topped the outfit and we were set to go. Tom suggested a tatoo of some kind and so, as icing on the cake, we both got tramp stamps. Did I mention I hate Halloween and dressing up? Thought so.

This is me hating Halloween.

The girls were outfit-less and this would not stand, so we worked on brainstorming something. At hand was a large cardboard box, some rope, a sharpie, and... yup that's pretty much it. Clearly there is only one thing that comes out of that: terrorists. Freedom hating terrorists. PC? Maybe not. But this is Utila, PC is sooo last year.

They are every bit as tough as they look. Watch out!

Arms manufacturing.

I love you Mom.

Terrorists and innocent spring breakers, we were set to go. An hour later than "fashionably late", we strolled into the party to the collective gasp of most on lookers. On the way Alex heard some kids talking about my boobs in Spanish. I forget the word they used but loosely translated I think it meant "my what gorgeous and full breasts that man has". Or something along those lines.

The party was in full swing, with DJ Jhair (one of the IDC instructors) spinning his magic. Almost immediately I was pulled onto the dance floor and fondled a bit. A common theme throughout the night actually. Ladies have it tough!

Jhair!

"Scuba Mom" Sara

I'm thinking of making it permanent. Thoughts?

We danced, chatted, and otherwise avoided thinking about our impending doom (snorkel test) until the music was killed and everyone began gathering around the bar. It was time. I lost the bikini top in an effort to keep it clean and free from beer or anything else that might be flowing forth. Millie and Halie went one further and grabbed trash bags to put on. These would come in handy.
Millie, Halie and I were the first three up and, as Declan bellowed out welcoming remarks, we made our way to the three stools set up in front of the bar. Tom, Jessie, and James looked on with fifty to a hundred other people, most of whom had experienced the famous snorkel test at one point or another in their Utila lives (who knows, maybe some had experienced it in their non-Utila lives. Hard for me to say.)

My mentor, Maya, sat behind me and gently slipped the mask over my face, whispering advice in my ear. Her advice essentially amounted to, "if you need to breath, bite the snorkel". I wasn't sure what that had to do with anything but hey, advice is advice and I'd be stupid to turn it down. Mask on my face, I flashed my fellow test takers the "okay" sign and jammed the snorkel into my mouth. I also slipped a finger under the mask to break the seal, allowing me to breath through my nose. No need to equalize on this particular dive.
Led by Declan, the crowd chanted ARE. YOU. READY? as Maya and the others began pouring things into our snorkels. Beer was the first thing to hit my mouth, followed by what must have been rum and coke. Swallow. Breath. Swallow. Breath. Swallow. Breath.

I was dimly aware of cheering and chanting but was far too focused on the task to care much. After what seemed like a gallon and a half of various liquids I heard Maya in my ear, "you're almost done, almost done". And finally, I was. All done. No sweat. Except for that small child of beer and soda foam sitting in my stomach just begging to get out. I graciously accepted my t-shirt, high fived Halie and Millie and made my way through the crowd. Puking on people was not on my to-do list. Apparently it was on Halie's though. Immediately after spitting out her snorkel she also spit out a good portion of dinner. Thank God for that bag. Myself? I gave a burp any man would be proud of and called it good. In fact, I felt great! Considering I had just chugged beer and countless other drinks through a snorkel, I felt like a million bucks. And we were certified DM's! Official. I even have a t-shirt to prove it.

This is the woman responsible for my sidemount addiction. Meet Mary!

And so ended (more or less) a Halloween night that was, ultimately, not that bad, if not fun. Not necessarily because it was Halloween, but because I was surrounded by friends celebrating an accomplishment. From making costume's, to dancing, to doing the snorkel test, I felt happy to be around cool people celebrating the pleasures of life. While I will likely not talk to 98% of these people ever again, much less see them again, I have nonetheless spent the past couple of months with them, and they have been fun, fun times.

In a couple of days it comes to a close. I feel ready to get off the island, but not ready to stop diving or spending time with my favorite people here. Jumping in the water for the first time yesterday after being out of it for four days was like heaven. It felt so natural, so right, to be underwater. And I don't want to leave that. But I see a lot more of that in my future, so taking a short break should be okay.

Stay tuned for the final blog post, coming in the next couple of days. My diving is hardly done, and I plan on making the most of the next couple of days. Just no more snorkel tests or dressing up. I pray.

Until next time,
Divemaster Gringo signing off

Swirl My Chocolate

I am not sure that my creative juices are totally floating, but I can't seem to put off a post any longer. I know some people have been patiently waiting.
I have tried to write this blog several times and never seem to get farther than the first paragraph. Finally, Alex suggested that I just add some pictures and call it good. Duh! Why didn't I think about that? As much as you will undoubtedly miss my beautiful prose, I hope that you will enjoy some photos from my trip to Roatan and the amazing wreck Odyssey. It was a spectacular trip and yet another highlight of my time down here.

Welcome to the Odyssey wreck!

We got to penetrate the wreck. Scuba lingo can be dirty.

The Odyssey has three distinct levels and plenty to explore!

It dwarfs divers.

Argentina lives on, 100 feet down on the Odyssey wreck

The blog wouldn't be complete without a sponge picture!

The turtle that joined us for a portion of the second dive. Incredible.

I hope that you have enjoyed the mostly wordless blog post. A little change of pace can be a good thing some times.
I survived Halloween and my snorkel test last night. It was actually quite fun and I might be bringing it back as a Thanksgiving activity! Just kidding Mom! Unfortunately, tales from last night will have to wait. All the dive boats are full tomorrow though so I will have yet another day off with nothing to do but blog, so stay tuned.

Until then,
Mojo-less Gringo signing off

Whismical Unicorn Trying to Blog

Hi, my name is Alexandra. Andrew is out of creative juice and it has got to the point that he is watching the NBA (I will make sure to make note of his encouraging spurts of knowledge), I am slowly learning to diss big tall dudes plus hate on Ray Allen.

- Lebron's headband is so big because of his receding hairline
- "Ohh, get the *bad word* out!"
- Travel. Travel. Carry. Travel. (x6)

Yesterday, the weather turned upside down and shook the waves to the point where visibility was the length of a worm. But this didn't stop Andrew, nothing does. He went out to begin his sidemount journey with the coolest "techie" teacher ever, Mary. Andrew first learned about all the equipment in sidemount, and it is very trippy because it is very different from having a tank on your back. To get started, you have to adjust this tight harness to your body. This could take a little bit due to all the yanking, especially for kids like Andrew, all chunky (like Moto-Moto) and stuff. The harness is where your two tanks are clipped on to and where you have your bladder (a BCD that looks like a weird mango). On the tanks, you need to make sure that the metal rings are adjusted to your height so that when you attach the tanks to the harness, they fit nice and snuggly below your armpits and lay on your hips...

And now Andrew is brushing his teeth with his crazy, vibrating, 360 degree, blue, Oral B toothbrush, cuing bed time.

I would like to note that I cannot write or blog because there aren't enough rainbows...
And I haven't spell checked or read over these small inputs of my imagination so please don't get mad teachers (and principals) watching over this blog.

Hi mom, I miss you.
Bye mom, I love you.

Peace,
Alexandra

...Photobombing

I Need a Dive, Dive, a Dive is What I Need

I’ve been struggling a bit trying to decide what to write about. I know I want to write something, I know there is some tid bit of exciting news to share but I really just can’t decide what. I guess I will just let it flow and see where it goes.

Sunday marks the day I really truly become a divemaster! Woohoo! I’ve been all but done for quite some time (a week or so) but I have one final task (well two really). First I have to lead certified divers on a dive. I actually did this the other day as a favor for one of the MSDTs I have worked with a bunch. Hannah found out that she had to teach a class and since I was on the boat just doing fun dives, she asked if I wanted to lead her divers. I of course said yes and it wasn’t until I got on the boat and we were pulling away that I realized that this was the real deal! No more instructors looking over my shoulder, no more help finding the boat if I become lost. It was all me baby. And I nailed it! At least, I did on the first dive. We went to a site called Black Hills, which is actually a sea mount. This means that it is essentially a hill in the water that gets close enough to the surface to sustain a reef and therefore fish and the like. It is actually pretty cool because the boat just randomly drives out into the ocean (okay, it isn’t randomly, but still) and all of a sudden you are told to jump in and look down! It was a slightly intimidating first lead because the mound slopes down into the bottomless pit of the ocean and if there are any currents you can end up in the blue nothingness, neither great options for a “fun” dive.

Captain Errol had me jump in the water and tie up as the mooring buoy sat fifteen feet underwater. After that, the fun began. Herbie (a girl) and Carrie (also a girl, duh) were eager enough and we had a great dive, seeing tons of Trunkfish and schools of Jacks and other silver fish (I’m no marine biologist people, lay off). Herbie was working in Bar (as opposed to psi) and so we swam around until she signaled to me that she was fresh out of air (or close enough for comfort) and we surfaced next to the boat. Mission accomplished!

Our second dive at Airport Caves went well enough, although I was silly and tried to take them into a cave. Oops! Luckily no one panicked and Herbie was good enough to just stop when she didn’t want to go any further. Smart girl. I only had fifteen seconds of personal panic, nothing major!

You would think that by doing two real leads I could get that signed off by the people in charge but nooooooo. So I’ve got another one to do on Sunday and then I have but one obstacle in front of me: the dreaded snorkel test. There is some pressure, as a few friends have taken it like champs and finished their whole snorkel, while other, lesser friends, have spit it out halfway through. Wish me luck folks, I’ll need it. For someone who just started to stomach beer (Geoff and Carrie can attest to how well that goes. Still sorry I never texted or anything before 7am!!) the prospect of an entire liter of beer/eggs/hot sauce/rum/coke/foam is a daunting one. Hell, that’d be daunting even if I liked beer! But it is all in good fun and I will have my good friends beside me suffering as well, so all is well.

Speaking of good friends, James and I had an unreal experience the other day. I can’t believe it has taken me this long to write about it. I needed to map a dive site and while he had already done his, James was good enough to go along and help me out. Mapping involves one person holding a compass heading and counting fin kicks while another person marks depths and interesting things to see. It isn’t the most fun in the world but it has to be done. Way back when I helped Amanda do her map in the chilly Pacific Ocean. For that one I got to sit at sixty feet with one end of a line and a flashlight, freezing my nuts off and wondering why on earth I was there and why everyone was so into this diving stuff. So naturally I was a bit hesitant to start my map, even though the water here is 84 degrees instead of 64!

The map went flawlessly and only took about 20 minutes. Or I should say that at twenty minutes I looked at James, told him we were done, and we started our fun dive, regardless of the map condition. We spent the next twenty minutes bopping around the wall, looking at various things and generally just enjoying ourselves. James is a great guy and a great dive buddy. He is chill and doesn’t require too much attention, the ideal friend underwater (boy do I have some stories about bad dive buddies! That is a tale for a later time though. Just remind me of Yohan, French fucker).

Sup James?!

We were just finishing up our dive and were swimming back to the boat when I looked off the wall and out into the blue. At first I couldn’t exactly tell what was coming at us but I soon realized it was an eagle ray. It kept coming and a moment after my mind told me I was looking at an eagle ray I realized that this creature was far, far too big to be an eagle ray. It must be…..a MANTA RAY! Holy cannoli people. A Giant Manta Ray swooped towards us, measuring at least 8 feet across and appearing absolutely massive. It glided right at us before veering off to follow the wall. I had gotten James’ attention but we failed to get anyone else to notice what the heck was going on just feet away. Screw them we thought, and began to swim after it. It didn’t take long for the manta to disappear into the blue but what an experience it was. James and I screamed into our regs, unable to fully believe what had just happened. We high fived and then tried to calmly make our three minute safety stop. Three minutes is a long, long time when all you want to do is yell “HOLY SHIT MAN” at the guy next to you. As soon as our faces broke the surface we spit out our regs and did exactly that. I was speechless. Kinda. Everyone on the boat looked at us babbling incoherently together and finally someone asked what the hell had happened. When we told them, they refused to believe it. I saw what I saw and James and I stand by it. Truly unbelievable. It is not common to see them at that site (if they have ever even been seen there), or here at all really. It was a rare sight to say the least and one of the highlights of my trip, without a doubt.

A cool barracuda, although less cool than the Manta.

I also went on an absolutely spectacular night dive the other night. Mary (the tec diver and soon to be my sidemount instructor, more on that later) organized a staff boat night dive to the Halliburton, the wreck that sits just five minutes from UDC’s dock. At first a bunch of people signed up for the dive but by the time we were ready to push off there were only six of us total. Mary is from Switzerland and it really shows. Everything she does is precise and deliberate. She is a stickler for the details and there are few people on this island that I would trust more in diving. I have really grown to like her and so it felt like a bit of an honor when she asked if I wanted to be her dive buddy. I know that she wouldn’t ask just any yahoo, so at least I have that going for me.

Mary would, of course, be diving sidemount, so much of the dive time would rely on my air consumption (sidemount or no, Mary probably breathes half the air that I do. That is what ten years of diving will do for you). It is silly to say but a part of me was nervous to dive with her. Nervous in the “this is my first prom with the girl I really like and just grew the balls to ask her” kind of way. I didn’t want to be a bumbling idiot underwater and I wanted to consume my air in a respectable fashion (truly one of my biggest self-confidence hang-ups in the water: air consumption. Everyone has been with the dunce that sucks air down like it is going out of style and suddenly the hour long dive is now a thirty-minute dive. Boo). I also had a feeling that I would be taking a course with Mary, so I wanted to do my best to “impress” her with my diving. I don’t know if I did or not but the dive that followed was one of the most transcendent dives and moments I have ever experienced. (It might get a little sappy/melodramatic/descriptive here. Forgive me while I indulge myself)

We popped on our lights and jumped into the water, careful to keep the beams pointed down and away from everyone’s eyes. Most everyone had already started their descent so Mary and I found the reference line and began to follow it down on our own. No free falling like at CJ’s dropoff. A nice and controlled descent. At around sixty feet the reference line ended at the top of the cabin, so we dipped off the side, seeking the bottom another thirty to forty feet below us.

My bright beam soon found the sandy bottom and I pumped a small amount of air into my BCD, floating gently above the ground. I looked over and found Mary doing the same, hanging weightlessly and effortlessly a few feet above the bottom. The light beams from our two flashlights played over the ground and the side of the ship as we finned forward, slipping through the inky darkness.

As always with diving, the only sound that filled my ears was my own breathing, slowly sucking air into my lungs before slowly exhaling it in a stream of gentle bubbles that gave my cheeks a massage as they searched for the surface. One, two, three, four, five, six in. Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve out. Over and over. Easy.

As is often the case when diving at night, I suddenly had the urge to turn off my light, so I covered it with my hand, allowing the night to creep in on me. Mary turned and quickly understood that I was okay and simply enjoyed the dark. She too covered her light, plunging us into a blackness darker than anything I had ever experienced before. A brief spell of panic rose up in my chest as my body suddenly felt as if it were shooting towards the surface. I glanced at my computer and through the faint green illumination saw the numbers holding steady at 100 feet. The panic sat back down into my stomach, banished from my consciousness.

Normally people do not turn off their lights for very long, but Mary kept hers off even when I started to bring mine back. I quickly turned mine off again when I realized that she enjoyed the night as much as I did. We spent the rest of the dive with our lights off.

As we drifted through the night, I flipped on my back and looked at the structure around me. The Halliburton is a large ship, nearly one hundred feet long and rising from 100 feet to nearly sixty. I have dove it twice before but never have I appreciated its size like I did this night. Somehow its mass was more apparent when it was in shadow, illuminated only by the occasional flick of flashlight beams. As I floated on my back I was awestruck by its massive sides, its thick cables, and its immense weight. Impossibly, I could somehow sense the size of the ship as it sat next to me in the dark, despite not being able to see more than a five foot chunk of it at any one time.

Using our lights, we peered underneath it and it was incredible to see the ship wresting perfectly on its keel, the hull curving gently towards the point where it sat in the mud.

Mary pointed to her arm and I saw that her computer was indicating a minute of no decompression time, which meant it was time for us to go up a bit. We followed our no deco times higher and higher, still with our lights off.

Seeing the lights of the other divers was absolutely amazing. The beams seemed to poke and prod the wreck, seeking and searching for something, anything. Mary and I were content to let it all come to us. There was no need to find anything, no need to seek anything out. The ocean and the night were offering us everything we could ever need or want. The darkness that pressed in on us was hardly stifling but rather freeing. I felt lighter, freed from burdens. The darkness seemed to wrap me in a blanket, a blanket without weight or substance. Almost a blanket of security.

When my gauge finally hit 1200 psi I signaled to Mary. Before the dive we had established this as the point where we would begin our ascent, taking plenty of time to work our way up the chain. I had eeked out as much time as I could and as I glanced at our dive time, I felt that I had done okay on air. Half an hour had felt like five minutes. But it had also felt like five years.

We worked our way up the chain, hanging motionless beside it. I turned out into the darkness and swished my hand in front of my face. Bioluminescence erupted in front of me, seemingly like a firecracker exploding in the night. I did it again. Again the fluorescent orbs of green and yellow shattered the darkness. Again and again I waved my hand, awed by the spectacle that nature was sharing with me. I turned to Mary and found her rubbing the chain. Thinking she wanted me to grab it I kicked closer. When I got close enough, I saw that, to my astonishment, the chain was glowing beneath her fingers. Rubbing the chain activated the bioluminescence, creating a wonderful glow. I don’t need to tell you how I spent the next five minutes.

My head broke the surface and broke the reverie. Despite all of the things I want to say when finishing up an incredible dive, words always seem to fail me. I wanted to share with Mary how fundamentally incredible the last thirty-five minutes of my life had been. I wanted to express what an incredible moment it was to sit at a hundred feet, in the pitch-black night, and just exist. There are no words for that moment. Not then, not now.

This transition is hard. How to go from that story to more fun and news? I’ll just go with an awkward line about how the transition is hard.

What?! Another picture of a sponge?! Couldn't be!!

I mentioned sidemount a couple of times and I feel that I should probably explain. Sidemount is a method of diving where two tanks are strapped, wait for it, to your sides! Imagine that!! Because you have two tanks, you have two regulators (breathing devices) and redundancy should anything fail. It also allows you more air and, my favorite, cuts down on your profile. I figured that two tanks at your side would be way less streamlined than a single tank on your back. Apparently this isn’t the case though. The tanks on your side add only an inch or two sideways, while removing a whole heck of a lot from your back. If nothing else, it looks totally cool and awesome and badass. So I’m doing it. After watching Mary do tec stuff, then diving with her, then watching my friend Alex do the course, I realized that I just had to do it. Not only do I really want to learn it from Mary, because she is so thorough and professional, but I can also get a really good price here at UDC. Not many other places offer it, much less at such a rock bottom price. So Monday I will begin my journey as a sidemount diver. The one downside, I have heard, is that you won’t want to go back to normal diving because sidemount is so freaking cool.

And thus ends the really long winded and drawn out post about a whole lot of nothing. Whew, I bet you are glad to have gotten through it. Thanks for sticking with me, if you made it this far.

Tomorrow I get to head to the neighboring island of Roatan for a couple of wreck dives! Mary and G organized a trip for the day so that we can dive on a huge wreck that is over there and it should be an absolute blast. If nothing else, I am glad to be getting some time in a new place, off the island. The first dive will also mark my 100^th dive! Holy crap! You are supposed to do it naked but I think I will spare everyone and keep my clothes firmly on. Hopefully it will be an epic dive to mark the momentous occasion. I will certainly be writing a post about it soon, hopefully with lots of cool photos to boot.

In the meantime, I hope that everyone is well and enjoying their time, with whatever they are doing. Be that teaching kids, managing teachers teaching kids, biking, hiking, walking, rowing, balling, studying, working, spaying, neutering, sweating (Pat!), holidaying from a holiday or anything else. Enjoy it to the fullest, that is what it is there for.

Until next time,

Future Sidemount Diving Gringo signing off

Monkey La La La

Time keeps on ticking, ticking, into the future. Steve Miller is not the world's most talented artist but he had some things right. It has hit the point in my trip when I can feel each day slipping away, each day bringing me closer to leaving. It is a terrible way to look at it, but there comes a point in any trip where it is inevitable that you start thinking about leaving. I am not ready to leave yet. I certainly miss home at times and there are so many things I am looking forward to once I get home but when it comes down to it, there is little substitute to waking up in the morning and jumping in the water. Diving has become second nature. I truly feel so comfortable that I sometimes forget how strange it is to be breathing underwater. I've spent over two days of my life underwater, the majority of that in the last several weeks. The people of the dive shop have become close friends and mentors. It is funny, I am closer with most of the people here than anyone on my trip to Argentina, although I think that Argentina prepared me immensely for this trip. All in all, life has become very, very comfortable and I feel as if I have found a bit of my place in the world, a bit of my identity. The good news is that I am not leaving yet. There is still plenty of time to have fun and have adventures, and I plan on making the absolute most of it! So let's get to it!!

As per usual I have been doing plenty of diving. I am finally done helping on courses for a bit and can do as much diving as I want. So I do. While I did plenty of fun diving while helping on courses, it is still refreshing to know that each time I go out I don't have to be worried about students or anyone else. I just get to jump into the water and have a blast. Today was a perfect example of that! A staff boat went out this morning bound for the North side and it was filled with fun people. I got to dive with my friend, neighbor, and other DMT Tom, which is always fun. He enjoys taking pictures as well so we have become underwater buddies because we move at about half speed as we are always finding something new to snap a photo of. Today he tried out lionfish hunting for the first time and I was supposed to keep close in order to lend him my "shark" knife for the kill shot. Unfortunately the first one he shot got away and I missed the whole thing. Apparently it was fairly epic as the lionfish wriggled off of the spear only to swim straight into the mouth of a waiting Moray Eel. Tough day at the office for the lionfish. I also got to dive with my friend Alex for the first time. She has been doing IDC (which she passed, as I am sure you saw by her rainbow guest post the other day. After twelve intensive days its hard to deny someone when they steal the computer for a moment) and hasn't had time to dive so today was our first chance to jump into the water together. Also on the boat was a Kiwi named Jessie who is a goofball and always fun to joke around with.

Alex and Jessie

Our dive turned out to be a wild ride of fun. Alex and Jessie like to goof around in the water and it is hard not to get caught up in their fun and frivolity.  I don't know how many times my mask flooded because I was laughing or smiling (the one defect of masks, they instantly flood upon any expressions of joy) but it was surely a lot. At 80 feet we were taking off our masks, flipping our regulators over our shoulders, and attempting to blow bubble rings (really hard if not impossible to do at that depth). We rode on each others backs, popped bubbles, and took off our fins. A great white shark probably could have passed by and I wouldn't have noticed it. Amongst all of it were lots of fun pictures.

Alex and Jessie catching a ride on my tank.

Just at the end of the dive, as we were all coasting slowly along the top reef, Alex and I had one of the more special underwater encounters I have ever had. As Alex took her mask off on a spit of sand (as she is wont to do, I have never seen someone enjoy removing their mask as much as she does!) I noticed something small and black flowing through the water. I say flowing because it is the only way to describe how it was swimming. So simple and elegant in its movements. It was a Leopard Flatworm and is a truly beautiful creature and amazing to watch as it whirls its way through the water. Words won't do it's movements justice so check out this video. Alex stuck her arm out and it landed on her, sticking to her like glue. We both marveled at it for awhile, I think both taken aback by how it had appeared and seemingly "chosen" us to share its beauty and grace with. Two other newly minted instructors, Marco and Jo, came over and we pointed it out as it swam onto a rock.

Finally turning from the Leopard Flatworm, I looked up just in time to see a large green Moray snaking its way through the water. I am not used to seeing them actually swimming and it was pretty cool, even if it looked a bit snake like and made my skin crawl a tad. I tried to show the others but it was gone by the time I got their attention. We finished up the dive by hanging motionless at 15 feet for our safety stop (see, I do practice safe diving habits, I promise!). As we did so, a large (four foot) barracuda swam right behind Alex. Even from ten feet away I could see its teeth glinting in the light! Barracudas look really nasty but have stopped scaring me because they are really just cool fish. It was a great way to end the dive, making up for the forty minutes when we weren't paying enough attention to the wonderful wildlife around us.

On the way back we stopped by one of the cays (pronounced keys) and did a bit of a garbage pick up. This weekend is garbage pick up week on Utila and a lot of the dive shops are going around and trying to do their part. I didn't realize how much disgusting trash is in the water until I strapped on a tank and took a dip at the end of the dock at the cay. Good lord it was gross. We filled bags and bags of trash and didn't even make a dent. I was amazed at the diversity of the stuff we found. Plastic plates, beer bottles, a rubber boot, a doll's head, electric beaters, a sofa, several shirts, fishing line, and countless glass bottles. I was also amazed to see the resiliency of nature. Beer bottles blended in really well because animals had started to cover them and make them their home and cans were quickly filled with crabs and other creatures. Amongst a lot of disheartening things, it was nice to see nature taking a bit back.

A crap ton of garbage (approximate measurement only)

This stuff stank to high heaven!

We returned to UDC under leaden skies; rainy season has fully arrived on the island. The boat motored into the harbor just as rain started pounding the decks with a fury I have rarely witnessed. It was awesome. I stood at the back of the boat and just let it hit me, wave after wave of it. The boat actually had to slow down as it became impossible to see much further than fifty feet ahead of us. Rainy season seems to be a mix of crazy storms and hot, muggy days. Some days it is cool and the rain comes down in fits, pouring for twenty minutes before letting up for several hours, pouring for another half an hour and then stopping again. Sometimes at night I wake up because the wind and rain are lashing the building with such a force. To tell you the truth, I love it. A good Oregon drizzle will always make me happy but nothing beats bearing witness to nature's fury. I love when it rains so hard you think the world is going to flood (until things do start flooding, then it stops being fun). I especially love that it is still decently warm when it rains so I can stand with my arms outstretched and ask "Are you not entertained?!". (As always, the reference is here)

I made a night dive last night and it was an absolute blast. For all of my other night dives we have a) gone to really lame sites and b) been with a class so I couldn't do my own thing. Last night Millie and I jumped on the boat and got to go completely on our own. It was really cool but also a bit much to handle because I brought my camera with me. There is a lot to deal with when you are diving at night and adding a camera just makes it even harder. That being said, taking pictures at night is absolutely awesome! Colors come out so much better and all the fish sit still for portraits because they are sleeping! It was a great dive and only once we were back on the boat did I find out that Millie had minor panic attacks at times. Luckily she is as enthralled by bio-luminescence as I am so she was just fine!

These sponges are absolutely stunning at night

I guess that is life in a nut shell! Hopefully everyone isn't getting too bored of "more dive stories". The truth is, I have yet to get sick of diving. Each day provides some new adventure to experience. There is always something new to the dive, something that you can take away, even if it is just blowing bubble rings during safety stops.

This is the size of a pea! So incredible!

And this is an adult trunkfish, not the size of a pea!

I am heading off in a few to do a night dive of the wreck that sits just outside the harbor. It is one of my favorite dive sites and I can't wait to experience it at night. Since it is a staff boat I know it will be a fun crew.

I hope everyone is well and feeling good. I will continue to send warm vibes to those in need, even if it is a bit rainy here sometimes! Be well and take care!

Until next time,
Wreck diving adventure Gringo signing off