COZUMEL

October 26 - November 2, 1999

October 26, Tuesday.

Left Corpus Christi on Continental at 0730. In Houston I met with Gene Muller and we were off to Cozumel. The flight was great, less than two hours. At the airport we cleared customs with green lights and took a van to the La Ceiba Hotel. The van is now $6, up from $2 just two years ago. The weather was broken clouds and 80 degrees with a stiff breeze from the north.

At the hotel we requested not to stay in the tower and were given the second floor in the new section. Second floor rooms are better than the first floor because there are balconies to dry dive gear on. The La Ceiba had price increases, too. Our room was $120 per night or $60 each, and food was slightly higher. Both the old pier and new pier had two cruise ships each at them.

We checked in with the dive shop where they asked for $55 per boat trip (two dives), but gave us three days diving for $149 and free, unlimited shore diving. We soon donned our dive gear, checked each other, and were ready for the giant stride off the pier. The dive was like many, many others that I've done here: visibility 100+ feet, water temperature 81 degrees, but the current was very light. The sunken airplane now consists of two engine nacelles and the wing. The coral looked healthier than I had seen it and there was more marine life: giant crabs, moray eels, and lots of grunts.

After the dive we settled in at the outside bar to swap dive stories. That evening we ate at Pizza Rolandi, a popular restaurant run by people from Switzerland. We ate in the outdoor court yard.

October 27, 1999. Wednesday.

After eating a free breakfast in the hotel restaurant, we reported to the dive shop with our gear for an 8:30 am boat, the Big Splash. Most of the people on the boat were from Shreveport, Louisiana. Our destination was Columbia Reef near the southern end of the island. This is one of my favorite dives. After the 60 minute boat ride and a site brief by the Mexican dive master, we all entered the water together and descended 90 feet to the reef. The currents were light, visibility was over 100 feet, temperature was 81 degrees. The reef offered large coralheads and many swim throughs along a steep wall. We had a photographer with us who was taking still pictures in the hopes of selling them to us later that day--she succeeded. Along the reef we worked our way up to 60 feet and then 45 feet before ascending to our 15 foot safety stop. The boat picked us up and we were off for a shallower reef close to the hotel. The trip gave us at least 60 minutes of surface interval.

Our next dive was on Paradise Reef, 35 feet for 40 minutes. The current was strong from the south, visibility was over 100 feet, temperature 81 degrees. Along the reef we got fleeting views of a moray eel, large groupers, barracuda, and lots of coral heads. The dive ended just minutes from the hotel pier.

Over lunch at the outdoor restaurant, Gene and I decided to go for an afternoon dive, much like the shore dive of yesterday. After a 2 1/2 hour surface interval, we were in the water: visibility 200 feet, temperature 81 degrees, light current. We spent several minutes looking at marine life around the sunken airplane, and then we header north along the sparse reef in 25 feet of water. We found a very old and scattered wreck of a wooden boat, went by several mooring lines, and generally explored the area until we needed to return to the pier. I took up a course of 120 degrees that took us to shore well north of the pier, so we turned south along the shore, in 12 feet of water to the pier. We passed under two dive boats at a pier so we stayed near the bottom.

At the outdoor bar we had a couple of beers, went to the room for showers, and then ate dinner at the hotel restaurant. We were too tired to go into town.

October 28, 1999. Thursday.

After breakfast we collected our gear into gearbags. We had arranged for a dive with a shop that specialized in cave and cavern diving. Carlos came to the hotel to get us at 9:30 sharp with several tanks. The drive to the cenote was very short. A cenote appears to be a pond in the jungle, but actually it's a part of an underground river system. It is fresh water and is cooler than the ocean. At the cenote, Carlos gave us a very lengthy brief followed by a check of our buoyancy control in the water and instruction on cave kicking procedures. The fresh water felt exhilarating, visibility was greater than 40 feet, and temperature was 76 degrees. This was supposed to be a cavern dive, not a cave dive. During a cavern dive you can always see light even though there may be ground overhead. Carlos led us into a space about 20 feet wide that descended over a ledge and then stayed at the same depth. Carlos was in complete cave diving equipment: two complete scuba rigs, three lights, and a reel of line. He tied off the end of the line outside of the cavern and began paying it out as we proceeded deeper. Soon we were completely out of sight of surface light. To me, that means we were caving diving. We proceeded farther into the cave until we came upon a white stop sign the read, "Stop. Do not proceed farther unless cave certified." At this point we turned left into a different passage and soon surfaced in the cenote, but at the other end from our entrance point. We discussed the dive with Carlos, we headed back into the cave with Carlos bringing up the rear so he could reel in his line. When we surfaced at our starting point, I was glad to be out of the cave.

After lunch, Gene and I set up our gear on the La Ceiba pier for a shore dive. Gene led the dive, 320 degrees until we reached a reef about 300 yards off shore--a ten minute submerged swim. We had never been to this reef because of the hazard of heavy boat traffic in the area. The reef was not impressive but it was new to us. I found an anchor embedded in the coral and a few other artifacts. On the way back to shore we found a badly damaged three foot anchor.

After a light supper, we set up our gear on the pier and waited for darkness. We would have waited longer, but the Shreveport group of over twenty divers began to prepare for a dive and we wanted to be well ahead of them. After inspecting the airplane for marine life we proceeded south along the reef. There was an abundance of marine life: lots of giant crabs, banded coral shrimp, moray eels, sleeping parrot fish (one in a cocoon of mucus), and a very strange looking lobster. On the way toward shore, we could see hundreds (okay, twenty) lights coming toward us. The Shreveport group reported seeing octopus.

October 29, 1999

Our boat this morning was Splash III, a smaller boat with fewer people. Rain showers were the order of the day and because of high waves and wind, we were transported to the marina by taxi where we boarded the boat. After we were under the water, we could see the rain hitting the surface. The visibility was reduced because the sun was not out. Our dive site, Palacar Gardens was not as pretty as I remembered it. We were along a sloping wall without large vertical coralheads, depth 75 feet working to 60 feet. After the safety stop, we surfaced to rain in our face. How exhilarating!

After an hour surface interval, we were in the water for a 60 foot dive on Punta Tunich. It was an "okay" dive, but nothing to write home about.

No trip to Cozumel is complete without dinner in the yard at Santiagos. Since the restaurant was not busy, a young waiter took the opportunity to practice his English with us. As always, the grouper broiled in garlic butter was superb.

October 30, 1999

We were assigned to Splash IV with a few of the Shreveport people. En route to the site we were in and out of heavy rain showers. Splash IV was having some problems with one of its engines and with the bad weather we elected for a close-in reef, Chaakanab Deep. The whole dive went wrong. We were briefed for a maximum depth of 60 feet. We were dropped well east of the reef in 90 feet of water. Everyone followed the dive master to 90 feet and a long swim to the reef in a moderate current. At 700 PSI of air, we signaled the dive master that we were surfacing. Since I never like to surface alone for fear of being run over by a speeding boat, we followed a lone diver to the surface and sure enough there was a boat. When I tried to hand up my weight belt and BC, the boat crewman said, "This is not your boat. What is the name of you boat?" When we told him, he said our boat was nearby and off they went. Gene and I located a boat some distance away, but in the rain we were not sure that the crew could see our bobbing heads. After several hand signals from us the boat came and got us.

After another "ho, hum" dive on Yucab Reef, we began a slow run into the wind and rain up the coast. The driving rain was stinging to our faces, so we put on our dive masks and endured a bad boat ride.

During the afternoon, Gene took two dive tanks from the shop to our room to be sure that we would have tanks for a night dive. After supper, in a continuous downpour, Gene and I decided to go diving. Since our dive gear was is in the room, we simply suited up in the room, walked out into the dark rain, and stepped off the pier. We had another great night dive and by the time we surface the rain had stopped.

October 31, 1999

As we boarded Splash II, I requested that we dive at my favorite dive site, Palancar Horseshoe. It's a long run down to the reef, but well worth it. We were dropped in 35 feet of water where we gathered together and swim to the nearby reef. We swam in single file through narrow canyons of tall coral heads coming out over a wall with a deep blue abyss. Swimming in and out of the canyons and swim throughs, we came to a concrete and marble monument. A small plaque had been added to the larger one since I dived here two years ago. I find something very profound about a monument in 70 feet of water honoring two fellow divers.

After the standard 60 minute surface interval, we dived Tormentos Reef in a very strong current.

That afternoon we rented a brand new Jeep and proceed around the island. The east side is very different from the populated west side. The outcroppings of limestone have holes eroded in them from the pounding surf. The rock looks like lava, not limestone at all. There are many blow holes and even a natural bridge. Between the outcroppings there are beautiful white beaches, mostly secluded. We stopped at a restaurant on a neat cove for a beer. Electricity has not reached this unpopulated coast, but the beer was cold. Along the road cutting across the island, we turned north to a Mayan ruin. The ruin is not grand like the ones on the mainland, but they are well kept by the grounds keepers.

November 1, 1999

Since Palancar Horseshoe was so great yesterday. We repeated the day's diving. As we began our second dive, we knew this was also our last dive of the trip. To console ourselves, we had dinner that night at my favorite restaurant, Morgan's. We talked diving, drank fine wine, and ate a great meal. All we had left to do was a little shopping. Gene wanted to buy Rhonda an expensive gift and I wanted to buy Gina a practical gift.

November 2, 1999

My birthday. To reward myself for living 58 years, I bought myself a first class ticket. It wasn't Gene's birthday, but he bought himself a first class ticket, too. We sat in our plush seats, drinking coffee as the poor slobs filed through to coach. We pretended not to notice. As we ate steak fillets during the flight, we didn't even think about the peanuts the folks in back were getting.