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

ALEXANDRA IS NOW A CERTIFIED  

PADI OPEN WATER SCUBA INSTRUCTOR

-Guest post brought to you by Alex Barua. Congrats!

Jail, Naked Divers and Trunk Fish Oh My

While there isn't much "new" to report tonight (well, there is always new stuff, just nothing earth shattering), I thought it would be a good chance to just post some pictures and maybe even a video or two.

All is well down here in the south, just doing my thing. I only missed three questions on my DM exam so I've got that going for me (for reference, see here). There really isn't too much more until I am a certified Divemaster. I have to map a dive site and do some coral surveys and that is really about it. I will also be helping on a rescue course this week, although that might have gotten pushed back a day or two because one of the students ended up in jail last night. I didn't even know this island had a jail, much less police! Apparently he got super drunk (big surprise on this island) and started a verbal altercation with Web, a salty, slightly insane crack head that walks around town sounding like the Marlboro man as he says interesting and slightly offensive things. He also makes some mean hot sauce, although I am always a bit hesitant to try it because I am afraid of what is in it. Cocaine? Possibly. Meth? Likely. Made according to international health and food safety regulations? Extremely doubtful. Anywho, the man has some sway on the island (I think he is the resident coke dealer) and so he was able to get poor Derek thrown in jail. I can't imagine that the Utila jail is very pleasant so I truly feel for the guy. Since Derek was still very intoxicated this morning when he came to tell Sarah all of this, it is likely that he will wake up tomorrow unable to function, hence we will need to move the class back. No problemo for me though, I'll just do some more diving! I hit 75 dives today and it doesn't seem like it will be any issue to hit the big 1-0-0 before I leave. And you know what 100 means? It means a naked dive! That is tradition at least, you dive naked for your 100th dive. I'd much rather do that here than back home!

Funny story about that actually. I meant to include this tidbit on my first post from the island but so much was going on that it must have slipped my mind! On my very first dive here we were swimming along and I happened to glance down the reef and out to sea and what did my eyes find? A girl taking her swim suit off. Followed by another one. At first I didn't understand what was happening because I was a decent distance away but I quickly got the picture. Literally. It is an awkward moment when you realize someone is undressing near you. Suddenly the coral in front of you becomes very, very interesting. The perfect line that I crafted during the dive (yes, I often "write" parts of my blog while diving) is as follows: you know you are in the right place when the coral and the fish and the world that surrounds you is more interesting than the girls diving naked nearby. I stand by that.

I dove CJ's Dropoff again today and it was absolutely incredible. Again. It can't hold a candle to the last dive but I blame that mostly on the fact that my deep diving buddy is gone (Simon) and I am left with people who are actually reasonable and sensible. Damn them. Damn them all. We were also on a boat with several instructors and since I am technically only certified to dive to 100 feet, well let's just say it would look bad for me to be joining the deep specialty course at 140 feet.

Can you spot the pea sized baby trunk fish? I spent a good 5 minutes and 800 psi trying to capture this little guy.

The best part of this dive is the fact that there are these channels in the reef that start slopping down and eventually dump you out into nothingness over the wall. I absolutely love getting all of the air out of my BCD and plummeting downwards, feeling like I am skydiving. I actually spread my arms out as if I were jumping. Such a cool feeling. Kind of like this actually. Unfortunately today I had to pull up at 115 feet or so, but there was plenty to see. I took some photos that I will share below, I am getting better! I am especially proud of the photo of the drum fish that I took. Not because it is a great photo (it isn't) but because I absolutely love these fish and we saw two today. They are fairly fearless and so it was cool to hover and snap away without the fish darting away.

A mid-aged Drum Fish!

I also finally got the cable for my other camera so here is a super special picture that you have all been waiting for.

Isn't that cool? The picture doesn't even come close to doing it justice. I also have a video but I decided that I am going to save that for when I get home. I've got to have something to showoff when I get back!

Other than that, things are moving along. Life is still great and I am loving everything. Any day that doesn't start off great is always perfect by the time the boat pushes off from the dock. Seeing peoples faces at the UDC, carrying tanks and setting up my gear, it all just gets me in the groove and makes me feel at peace. I can't help but have a big old smile plastered on my face after only a few moments at UDC.

Hard not to smile when passing this on the way to some epic diving!

I hope everyone is enjoying fall and the changing of the colors. That is something I will always miss from home, no matter how beautiful and warm the water is. Less than a month until Zag season, I hope everyone is getting ready! This years squad is going to be crazy good, or at least they have the potential to be. St Mary's better enjoy the conference title while they still have it, because I think it is time we took it back.

Anyways, I digress. Clearly I still miss something from back home. Basketball isn't too big down here as you might imagine!

Hope all is well. Be safe, be happy!

Until next time,
Content and Satisfied Gringo signing off

Grrrgggrrrrggggrrr

The title of the post is dedicated to Alex, I think she'll both know why and will enjoy it. At least I hope.

Today was the first day in a long while that I didn't dive in the morning, so I got a rare morning to sleep in. It was the first sad day that I have had here, the first day that hasn't been perfect in every way. It was a sad day because tonight we had to say goodbye to our Swiss friend Simon. Over the past weeks I have really become close friends with him and I am really sorry to see him leave. In a way it is surprising to feel this way. I have only had a couple of weeks to get to know Simon but the amount of fun we have had together is extraordinary. The story of our friendship really is the story that I wanted to tell tonight anyways, and it seems especially fitting since he is leaving.

Millie, myself, Halie, and Simon at the pig roast on one of my first nights here.

There is a German woman named Mary who is an instructor at UDC and for the past week and a half she has been teaching a tec course to a student named Ant, a gent hailing from the UK. Tec diving is different from recreational diving because unlike us, they actually have to spend time decompressing. As you descend, the pressure exerted by the water forces nitrogen from the air you are breathing into your blood stream. As you ascend, the pressure lessens, allowing the nitrogen to come out of solution and be "off gassed" through respiration. By ascending too rapidly, you risk "the bends", meaning that the nitrogen turns into gas before reaching your lungs and so you have nitrogen gas bubbles in your blood. Your blood can literally boil in severe cases. Recreational diving is limited to the depths that you can reach while also being able to ascend directly to the surface (at safe rates of course) without risking the bends. So when I say that I can stay at 100 feet for ten minutes, I mean that I have 10 minutes before I will be required to make stops, decompression stops, on my way back up. Tec diving is when you plan on making stops at certain depths in order for your body to properly off gas. It is a crazily advanced course and requires major smarts and commitment. For the past week or two Mary has been taking Ant through the course and teaching him all of the different steps. Tec divers tend to dive a lot deeper than recreational divers and so this is the reason we have been going North side every morning, because it is the North side that has all the deep drop offs and walls that allow them to reach the depths they want and need.

Hardcore with four tanks. And this was only at like 100 feet!

All week Simon and I have been on every single boat that has gone north. Not many other people are willing to get up each and every day, especially because it is for a single tank dive, not the normal two. I am really not sure why, given how incredible the diving is there. Better for us though. Since Simon and I have been on each of the boats and have watched the progression of the tec diving, and have asked questions and shown a general interest, Mary asked the two of us if we would like to be "support divers" for their final dive. Mary and Ant would be descending to 300 feet and would spend over an hour decompressing (compared to the seven minutes they were allowed at 300 feet). They would also be breathing complex mixtures of gasses since oxygen actually becomes toxic to the body at a certain depth. As support divers, our job would be to meet them at about 50 feet and take tanks off of them and bring them different ones if something went wrong. They descended with five tanks each, so you can understand the importance of removing tanks when possible.
The two of us jumped at the opportunity, not only because it sounded super cool but also because it would allow us to dive CJ's Dropoff, one of the top sites on the island. Thus began perhaps two of the most extraordinary dives, and moments, of my entire life.

Mary and Ant before their big dive.

There were seven of us in the boat as we began the forty minute trek north. Mary and Ant had briefed us the night before on our roles and everyone was feeling pretty giddy. I felt both nervous and excited at the same time. Nervous because I knew what was at stake and how easily things could go terribly wrong and how I would suddenly be called upon to act. Excited because I was going to be a part of something really, really cool.
Just as we pulled up to the mooring line the heavens opened above us and began dumping half of the world's fresh water supply on our heads. Since Mary and Ant would be on such a long dive, Simon and I would have a half an hour window to do our own dive before we were expected to meet up with them. As soon as their heads disappeared underwater we began strapping our own measly single tanks on and piling into the water. CJ's Dropoff consists of a reef at about 20 feet and a wall that plummets to nearly 2000 feet deep. Our plan was to get deep quick, burn up our no decompression time and ascend to the boat to prepare for the second dive with Mary and Ant. I won't say that PADI officials would have completely approved of our plan but I will also maintain that it was well within our limits and abilities. We were not being stupid, just having fun and pushing the limits a little bit, which is what diving is about in a way. That being said, it was a hell of a dive profile.

Preparing to get out of the rain. All these photos are by Simon by the way.

So cool to look up when it is raining.

After thirty seconds of swimming along the reef I came across a channel that cut through the reef and sloped steeply downward. I pulled my dump valve and began rocketing downwards as air was squeezed out of my BCD. Every few seconds I would check my gauge as feet ticked by. 40. 50. 70. Deeper and deeper. Light faded until everything was a deep, deep blue. At 80 feet I came out of the chute and had only empty water beneath me. I picked up speed as everything on me compressed from the pressure. The next time I looked at my gauge it read 120 feet. Pulling myself from the swan dive I was making, I slowed my descent by adding some air to my BCD. When I finally stopped falling and leveled off I found myself at 140 feet. Holy shit I thought to myself, this is fucking deep (I can't censure myself on this one, sorry). I looked up above me and could see bubbles streaming upwards forever, seemingly never reaching the surface. Looking over at Simon I flashed the "rad" sign, not even coming close to expressing myself. He flashed it back and then we both flashed the double rad at the same time. Hand gestures just couldn't do it justice.

It was at this point that I noticed that my head felt about three times bigger than normal. I also felt giddy. Not just the normal flutter of excitement that fills me whenever I dive, but an all encompassing euphoric bliss that consumed me. Nitrogen narcosis had set in. This is the "high" that sets in when you near 100 feet and can at times be really dangerous. It can make people do really dumb things, especially to people that claim crabs start talking to them. For me it was more of an incredible high (I can only assume that is what it feels like to get high. The fact is that no drug can feel that incredible, that amazing). I started laughing into my regulator, laughing at the beauty of being 140 feet underwater. I wasn't the least bit afraid because I was fully conscious of my situation and where I was. For instance, I knew that I had three minutes before I would hit my no deco limit. Simon and I snapped a few photos and began kicking our way a bit shallower.
I wish that I could fully capture how it felt to be at 140 feet. It was unlike anything I have every experienced before. Imagine the moment you have been happiest in life, the moment you have been most content. Now pair that with the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. That is what it felt like. Not only did I feel happy and content and thrilled to be alive, but looking around I found myself holding my breath because of how beautiful the wall was. Light had all but disappeared and we were surrounded by nothing more than inky blueness. Nothing else will ever compare to that moment.

There is more on the slate than just the 130 but that is the important part. Ironically I think this was at 140 feet.

After spending a minute or two at depth we began to slowly ascend, aware that if we screwed up, Mary and Ant would also be in trouble. Just as we began to surface we realized that the boat was much further away than we thought, and we were already supposed to be on it looking for the marker that Mary and Ant would send up. We dropped down to fifteen feet and kicked as hard as we could for the boat. No sooner had we gotten on board and switched tanks than the surface marker buoy broke through the surface. I jumped into the water and Simon handed me a tank of 100% pure oxygen. With some difficulty I clipped this to my side and we began our descent to meet up with the tec divers. We found them content and in one piece, happily chewing on some snickers that they had brought with them as a snack. They gladly handed off some tanks and we shuttled them back to the boat before returning to watch over them for the remainder of their forty minute decompression.

Look Mom, I'm almost, kind of a tec diver!

I almost can't tell you what happened in those forty minutes because they just flew by. I saw some cool fish on the reef as we were hanging out, including a beautiful Queen Trigger Fish that G was tempting with the two Lionfish he had speared. It kept trying to eat the Lionfish off the end of the spear and just at the last minute G would pull it away, wanting to save them for lunch.

I'm kind of a big deal, don't worry about it.

Ant and Mary surfaced to cheering and they were all smiles as they climbed back on the boat, exhausted but thoroughly content. As the boat headed back to UDC I think everyone shared in the moment, smiling and laughing at what a wacky, crazy, amazing life we all had.

We were all a part of something special that morning and I think everyone on the boat knew it and felt it. I know that for me, those were two of the greatest moments of being alive that I have ever experienced, and I can't really say why. Something about never feeling more alive, more present in the only moment that matters: the present. It is something that I have struggled with, and will continue to struggle with. In that moment, however, there was nothing else, no future or past. The next minute, the next second didn't even matter because I was alive in that one singular moment I could comprehend and that one moment was greater and more incredible, more special, than any moment that came before it. That moment is what true happiness is all about. In a way, I think that is what grrrggggrrrr means. It is about being content in the moment, happy to be alive in that one instant that you can think about. We spend our whole lives thinking about the moment before or the moment to come but when we truly find joy and happiness we find it not in the before or the future. We find it in a single instant. A single instant of bliss, of joy, of happiness. We find it in a single instant of being really, truly, alive.

Maybe that is why I am sad to see Simon go, because we shared something truly profound. Or maybe it is just because I found a friend in him, and with all friends, you wish you had more time together. But, if all works out, our paths will cross again. Maybe in Switzerland. Maybe in Oregon. I told him I would take him to the Channel Islands to dive and he promised me some dives in Switzerland. Either way, I know we will both be gunning for that 150 foot barrier! And no matter what, I will always remember that remarkable dive and the look on his face that mirrored my own as we sat at 140 feet. It was the look of being really, truly, fully alive.

Busy, Busy Times

I really love this fish, even if the photo doesn't do it justice.

Oh boy, have I really done it again this time. It has been far too long since my last post and there is no way on earth that I will be able to catch everyone up with the multitude of things that have happened since then. In fact, I don't even remember much of what happened. The strange thing about diving every day, and having each dive be even more incredible than the last, is that they start to blur. Did I dive to 126 feet yesterday? Or was that this morning? In fact, what day is it? The only way I can keep track is to check the boards outside the dive center that tell us what boats we are signed up for. Such is the life I lead.

I will do my best to recap some of the highlights of the past week or so, starting with my dive to 126 feet. It was sick. Nothing more needs to be said. Diving the North side is such a treat and the dives are so incredible. So much to see, such deep depths to explore. I went to 126 feet and felt great, no problems whatsoever! I didn't feel even "narced" (essentially feeling high. Some people claim crabs start talking to them at depth).

We dove some great caves the other day and it was an absolute blast! We swam in single file and I brought up the rear. The one problem with this is that everyone in front kicks up all the sand and silt and pretty soon the visibility drops to next to nothing. The final part of the cave was a little tiny squeeze into a little chamber. Going in wasn't a problem. There were four of us in the chamber and it was a rather tight, all of us jostling around trying not to scrape ourselves on the rock (lotta good that did, my hands are still torn up!) Going back out I was again at the end of the train and for a brief moment I felt panic rise inside me as I realized that I couldn't see where I had to go. The good news was that we were maybe ten feet below the surface (although no direct way up) and I had about 2500 psi left, which at that depth would last me well over two hours. Worse case senario I sit and wait two hours for the silt to clear. Figuring that would be boring, I darted forward at where I thought the exit was, and somehow managed to make it out! I've included a picture of what I was looking at before I got out. Some people's worst nightmare!
I've also got some cool videos from that dive that I will try to upload at some point in the near future. It might have to wait until my return though, we'll see.

Somewhere in there is the exit, I promise.

Thousands of tiny fish in the cave. So cool.

My classes are pretty much done now, and the more "practical" portion of my training starts. It was a very busy week, filled with briefings on how to work the boat, how to tie to a mooring buoy, how to conduct underwater searches, and other vaguely interesting but useful things. The nice part is that I got to dive the whole time, and when I had a down morning, I signed up for dive boats going to the Northside. I have found that I can't help myself. There have been several days when I have felt slightly stressed and too busy and I know I should take the next morning off but I can't. Some days I wake up at six feeling like someone poured sand down my ear. All it takes, however, is to step outside and I immediately feel more invigorated than ever before.

Plate coral.

I have been assisting on an Open Water class and it has been really fun. It has also been eye opening as one of the girls in the class was petrified for the first two dives. It has been so cool to watch her get more comfortable with the water. Yesterday I literally held her hand as we sat 6 feet under on the tarp off the dock at UDC. By the end of the session she was pushing people around, doing skills like a champ, and pointing at fish. It was a remarkable turn around. I head out for our first open water dives (real dives at real sites) here in a few, so we'll see how that goes.

Practicing equipment exchange 30 feet under

I guess this leads to the biggest news (well, second biggest, you'll see why in a second). I have decided that I will be pursuing my instructor credentials eventually. I say eventually because I have neither the time nor the financial resources to do it this trip, but I know that I will soon. Essentially I discovered that as a Divemaster, I won't find work anywhere. Sure there are some places where I can do a little work, but mostly places hire instructors because they can do everything a DM can do and much more. This wasn't the main reason I decided this however. The main reason is that I have found that I love sharing diving with people. Helping on this open water class has been an absolute blast because I get to pass on my knowledge to other people. It is really cool to feel knowledgeable about something and to feel like you have something to share with them. I figure this is a double bonus. I get to continue to dive, which has developed into a full blown passion/addiction, and I get to share it with others. I have a couple of issues though. The first is that I feel wildly inexperienced to be teaching people. Sure, I hit 60 dives yesterday. Sure I feel really confident in the water. But that only counts for so much. If I am really going to be teaching people how to do something that could potentially kill them, I figure that I better be pretty damn good at it myself. So I want to get more experience before starting this. I really want to make sure that I am as comfortable as possible before I even begin to think about teaching others. Luckily this means I just have to do more diving! Assisting on courses really helps as well since it allows me to not only practice my skills but to also observe how instructors do their thing.
The cool thing is that the UDC has the top PADI Instructor Development Course in the world. I have been spending a lot of time with a friend Alex and she is currently in the middle of the 12 day course. Let me tell you, she is working her ass off. Training instructors is not something they take lightly here, and I really think that says a lot about the place and the staff. It is cool to see Alex go through the process because it gives me a glimpse as to what it takes and what kind of commitment it is. I'll give you a hint, its a big one. So who knows, I may find myself back here in a couple months time doing my IDC. Or maybe I will go somewhere else to do it. Only time will tell!

A big, bad Lionfish!

I forgot what these are called but they are little shells and are really cool

This was taken at like 115 feet.

 While there are hundreds of stories I want to tell, countless anecdotes to share, I will leave you with maybe the best one so far. It started after a great drift dive with my friends Simon and James. As DMTs we can hop on boats and essentially do as we please, so it was fun to go off with these two guys and do our own thing. After the dive we got back on the boat and it began motoring north. It took perhaps a half an hour to get to the north side of the island but once there we almost immediately spotted what we were looking for: large "boils" of water and circling birds. As the boat neared, we began to see fish jumping out of the water by the hundreds.
"Line up, line up!" the boat captain yelled as we all crowded to the back of the boat and sat down, pulling on fins and masks. All of a sudden the boat slowed and Ryan, the captain, began yelling "Go, go, go, go". Like frantic cattle we slid on our butts to the end of the boat and spilled into the water. Whitewash from the prop hit my face, turning my world into a snow globe. I sucked in a breath from my snorkel and kicked below the surface, looking around wildly. When I finally glimpsed it, my heart stopped. There in front of me, maybe ten feet away, was the massive side of a whale shark. A deep blue with white spots, it blended in beautifully with the surrounding water. My heart hammered in my chest as I kicked closer, my eyes trying and failing to take in the entire body. The length of a small bus, the whale shark was absolutely massive. Truly impossible to comprehend when swimming next to it. Despite its size however, the thing could motor. I found myself quickly falling behind as it finned into the inky depths. Only as its massive tail disappeared from view did I realize that I needed a breath of air badly or I was going to pass out. I shot to the surface, too stunned to care. Words cannot describe the majestic beauty of this creature. My own memory has even failed me. It is one of the few sights in the world that can only be experienced in person, nothing else even comes close. Like I said, my memory of the moment is only a fraction as amazing as the moment itself. A once in a life time experience (except that I still have a month to do it again, and again, and again).

So much has happened and I truly wish that I could tell it all, but unfortunately I cannot. I also realized today that while I love writing my blog and making sure I keep completely up to date with everyone, it is also okay to let that go for a time. What I mean is that I have stumbled on a pretty cool place at just the right time in life. I have made close friends and found something I love doing. I wake up each morning thrilled to be here and excited by the fact that I get to go diving, even if it is to Airport Caves for the 500th time. So, while I love you all deeply, and love writing this blog, I am going to warn you that posts may be fewer in the coming weeks. Not because I don't care, but because the last couple weeks have flown by and I know the next four will as well. I want to spend those four weeks fully present in where I am, with the people I am with, not worrying about anything else. This isn't to say I am going to stop writing, because I love doing that. It is just a warning so that you aren't too disappointed when I stop writing as much!

I hope all is well with everyone and that fall is as beautiful as I always remember it. I am still in full blown summer mode, although it has thankfully cooled down a bit (just a bit though).

Until next time,
Whale Shark Stalking Gringo signing off