Random Thoughts: underwater

Can you spot the shark in this photo before it spots you? ©www.CosmicCandidCamera.com

As I descended the buoy line into the increasingly cold, dark and murky abyss...unable to see the bottom, or more than 10 feet in front of me, I could hear only the sound of my breathing and feel the bubbles rising past my ears as I exhaled through my regulator.

I felt like a flag flapping in the wind as my body swung perpendicular to the rope in the powerful current. I was already shivering when my mask began to fill with icy water. The thought went through my mind that if I lost my grip I’d be swept into the middle of the Pacific Ocean where the likelihood of anyone finding me would be slim. I was reminded of the poster for the movie “Alien”….In outer space no one can hear you scream.

The four of us finally reached the bottom...125 feet below the surface. Letting go of the rope and clinging precariously to the rocks, we inched our way hand over hand until we reached a lookout point frequented by large reef sharks. Peering down from our perch atop an underwater cliff, the rocky wall below us plunged into a deeper, darker pit of blackness.

To make matters worse, the dive computer strapped to my wrist was beeping manically, alerting me that I needed to head to the surface NOW. The deeper you dive, the more slowly you need to ascend in order to avoid the risk of decompression sickness, paralysis or even death. But I didn't have much choice....I could either leave the group and take a chance on not being able to find my way back in the semi-twilight terrain around me, or I could stay until the rest of the group was ready to ascend. But at that depth and chilly temperature, combined with the effort required to advance into the powerful current, I was consuming a lot more air than usual.

Meanwhile, my dive computer continued to rack up the number of minutes I would need to ascend in order to get rid of the nitrogen that was rapidly accumulating in my tissues and bloodstream. It was like sitting in a taxi in the middle of a traffic jam watching the fare climb higher and higher without getting any closer to your destination. To continue to ignore it would not only put me in serious danger but would also render my computer useless for subsequent dives, since it to "punishes" you by shutting down completely for 24 hours if you disregard the warnings for too long.

When we finally began our ascent, without having seen a single shark, my computer indicated that I needed 16 minutes to ascend 125 feet. That's the equivalent of walking at a pace of 2 steps per minute on a chilly day wearing nothing but your underwear. That’s slow. And cold! Oh...and don't forget...there was an increasingly high probability that I would run out of air. I watched the needle on my pressure gauge drop from 200 to 150 to 100. As we inched our way up the buoy line, I narrowly avoided impaling my hand on the rusty barbs of a fish hook that was imbedded in the rope. Needless to say, I made it back to the surface safely, albeit with a tank that was almost empty. I loved every minute of it.

On the other end of the spectrum, I’ve dived in water so crystal clear that it created the optical illusion that the boat was hovering in mid-air above the ocean floor. The water temperature was like taking a bath as the sunlight played on the coral and the schools of multi-colored fish that swarmed around us.

The feeling of gliding effortlessly and weightlessly through a world that is inhabited by creatures which bear absolutely no resemblance to their terrestrial counterparts is like no other. White-tipped reef sharks that stopped evolving a million years ago because they reached the apex of efficiency with regard to killing their prey. Yellow and black and white striped angel fish swimming in pairs with long streamers trailing from their dorsal and pectoral fins.

Lobsters and octopi hiding in the cracks and crevices of rocks. Moray eels as thick as your upper arm with faces that would make an atheist believe in The Devil. Graceful sea turtles gliding by as if in slow motion....which you soon discover is not the case if you try to follow one. Kind of like watching a plane land, their speed is deceptive. Puffer fish, squirrel fish, clown fish, tarpin. Slow-moving, slack-jawed grouper that look like the village idiots compared to all the clever or comical looking fish around them.

Huge sea fans and coral with ridges and grooves that look like a massive brain. Tube sponges of neon red and yellow and green. Starfish of every size and description and picturesquely peaceful outcroppings on the faces of underwater cliffs that make you want to build an underwater house and live there.

There's a sensation of flying, of being on another planet, of being in an altered state of consciousness...of dreaming and yet feeling completely lucid. The colors and shapes that defy description. The strange beings that look like aliens...manta rays, sting rays, eagle rays...creatures that would boggle the imagination of Dr. Seuss.

The sense of camaraderie you feel with those in your dive group...knowing that you're looking out for them and they're looking out for you. At least that's the idea, anyway. The sense of danger and the need to stay alert and to keep your wits about you. The hyper-awareness of everything around you but also the sense that if you pay attention, if you check your equipment, if you stay close to your buddy and you don't do something careless or stupid, it really is a safe sport. Having done over two hundred dives I've seen very few mishaps…and most of those were the result of my own carelessness.

Whether I’m diving in claustrophobic caves, or the deep, dark depths, swimming with sharks, navigating by flashlight while night diving, struggling against strong currents, swimming through shipwrecks with the ghosts of drowned sailors, enjoying a bird’s eye view of the reef below, or descending through a coral archway as shafts of blue sunlight play on the surreal landscape and the creatures who’ve allowed me share their company, diving is a portal to an amazing and alternate universe.

"All fish, reptiles, amphibians, birds, and mammals carry within their veins the elements of sodium, potassium, and calcium in almost the same proportions as the oceans. The "sea" within us has the same saltiness as the Precambrian seas of three billion years ago. Rachel Carson, in her book The Sea Around Us, gives us a clue to our origins: "When the animals went ashore to take up life on land, they carried part of the sea in their bodies, a heritage which they passed on to their children and which even today links each land animal with its origins in the ancient sea." :: Prentice K. Stout

Two of the main reasons I wanted to come to Honduras were to scuba dive and learn how to take photographs underwater. I've done 12 dives in the past 14 days, several of them at a depth of around 90 feet, and am learning a lot about buoyancy and breathing....two skills that come in handy when I'm NOT diving as well!

I got to do three fantastic dives today with the staff of Utopia Dive Village. We saw an incredible and surreal variety of flora and fauna including a very annoyed moray eel who did not like having his picture taken. That thing makes Beelzebub look like Casper the Friendly Ghost!

Check out this video of some of the caves we swam through...I bonked my head a few times looking through the camera instead of where I was going. Do not be alarmed by the sound of me hyper-ventilating in the background...the good news about peeing in your wetsuit is that nobody notices, and you get that warm, reassuring feeling right when you need it most.

There's a special bonus feature at the end where the dive master does his underwater impersonation of Michael Jackson.

Kids do NOT try this at home!