Since our group consisted of some new divers, I was looking for a dive boat that didn’t have 15 divers packed onto it, so our group wouldn’t feel intimidated by a bunch of hard core pros. Doing my web browsing before the trip, it seemed that there are quite a few boats that advertise a maximum of 8 divers.
Then I found “Absolute Divers” a single boat run by Mark Sahagian, and he advertised a morning or afternoon two-tank dive for a party of 6 for $500. Since most of the dive-ops on Grand Cayman seemed to be charging $85 for a two-tank dive, Mark’s boat was $83, and we had Mark’s full attention for our “private charter”! It was perfect.
Mark also taught us something interesting. He suggested taking a one minute “safety” stop, at the beginning of the dive! Not really for safety, but to just slow yourself down, relax, and prepare yourself for the dive. Often we are so anxious to get going, we’re all hyped up, and with a choppy surface or the slightest gear problem, your heart is racing and the stress level is way up. Not exactly the way to improve you air consumption! Since entering and exiting the water is always the most difficult part of any dive, taking a minute to compose yourself on the bottom, actually sitting down (on sand, of course) and closing your eyes, was a great idea. I now call it my “zen minute”! Here’s a picture of Mark practising what he preaches.
We loved the Cayman diving. The walls were awesome, and the underwater coral topography was magnificent. However, I have to admit that my favourite dive was the shore dive at Turtle Reef. I’m always amazed at how much fun some shore dives are, and this one was just awesome.
Turtle Reef is up past the north end of Seven Mile Beach, just a 15 minute drive from Georgetown. Dive Tech is the dive shop there, and the setup is perfect. Nice little dive-op, parking, tanks and weights all within 30 yards of the water. You surface swim 100 yards out to the buoy, drop down the line 30' and you are at the top of a mini-wall.
There's lots of marine life, lots of coral topography, and a sand bottom at 60'.
We were swimming along the wall, enjoying the sights, and as we rounded the next corner, I was stunned by a most wonderful sight.
In a large grotto, in the side of the wall, there where close to a hundred silver tarpon, slowly circling in lazy unison. The sunlight streamed down in brilliant, glittering rays and illuminated these majestic fish as they cruised out of the shadows of their grotto and into the open water.
And all around this awe inspiring scene where thousands and thousands of silversides! At times these tiny fish made a moving curtain that seemed solid and impenetrable.
But as we approached, a hole would magically appear and we would seem to melt into this marine ballet of grace and beauty.
Being in the middle of this combination of delicate, miniature fish, a shimmering cloud surrounding this large school of dreadful, mighty tarpon, was truly a breathtaking moment.
As I watched the tarpon I couldn’t take my eyes off these huge shining creatures. Their thrust out lower jaw seemed to shower scorn upon me. They circled in and out of their grotto with a smooth self-confidence born of the arrogance that befits a creature that sits near the top of its food chain.
Breathing as shallow as possible to minimize my bubbles, I glided into the grotto to join them. Accepting my presence, they continued to circle, and I tried to act like a Tarpon.
As I swam among these magnificent fish, I sensed their disdain for me as they moved far enough away to indicate my presence was tolerated, but not welcome.
Leaving their day haunt, I swam through another magic opening in the silverside ballet, and their curtain shrouded the tarpon. Looking back, I strained to watch the dark outlines of their solid bodies through the gossamer glittering of the untold numbers of silversides.
Let me quote Paul Humann’s book about tarpon:
"Habitat - Drift in canyons and secluded areas. Normally school during the day. Large schools may inhabit a specific area on a reef for years where they can reliably be observed.
Reaction to divers - Apparently unafraid, a non-threatening diver can slowly swim through a school."
Indeed, this is the case, and they are there waiting for you. Don’t miss a chance to swim with these gleaming monsters. Not wanting this dive to end, I looked for spiny lobster as I headed back to shore.
The resort at Cobalt Coast is intimate and extremely lovely. Staying there would be pretty close to divers nirvana. Just look at this picture. Doesn’t it make you want to book a week, right now?! :-) As a matter of fact, the “Digital Madness” last September on Grand Cayman was hosted by three resorts, and Cobalt Cost was one of them!
O.K. This is where I misplace my first $1,000 worth of gear. The six of us get out of the water, and start to de-gear, tell the post dive stories and grab some lunch. Now I’m the dive master of the group, and we have one rookie diver, and three that haven’t been diving for over a year, so I’m trying to help everyone. I also organized the whole trip, so I’m the (sort-of) tour guide as well. Not only that, but my wife and I are in our early 60's, so I always get out of the water first, dump my gear and go back into the water to haul her’s out. (Can you tell I’m laying the ground work for a good excuse here?)
The first thing I do is plop my camera rig in the rinse tank. Then I’m running around yaking and packing and then we’re off to the beach for lunch and a swim. Now we are all back at the next dive site, Turtle Reef, two hours later. We all start to gear up, and I suddenly realize I don’t have my camera rig! It hits me like a ton of bricks; of course, it’s in the rinse tank, thank God, (maybe) only ten minutes away. I jump in the car, my heart pounding, and race down the winding road, trying to remember the nine left and right turns to get to Cobalt Coast. I screech into the parking lot, dash around back to the dive shop and practically jump into the camera rinse tank. A wave of relief washes over me as I see the clear Ikelite housing and strobe, languishing in the water.
Almost delirious with happiness, I dash back to the car and zoom off on the return trip. Fortunately, I’m on a straight stretch of road when I see a black pick-up truck headed straight for me, on my side of the road! We're both doing about 40 mph, and I finally realize that I’m the one that’s supposed to be driving on the left, and quickly move over. In my camera tizzy, I’d reverted to North American driving. Grand Cayman, as with several other Caribbean islands with British heritage, are all left hand drive! With a sheepish grin on my face, and a good-natured grin on his face, the pick-up driver hails me with “other side mate!” His words carry forgiveness for my error, and now I am twice blessed!
I rejoin my friends, camera and car accounted for, both in good condition. I lift my camera like a trophy, won for surviving stupidity, and we all laugh and smile. We jump in the water, and have a great dive. My daughter had been hoping to see another turtle, and this being our last day dive, was our last chance. Sure enough, a cute little fellow comes swimming along, and stops to pose for pictures.
O.K. This is where I misplace my second set of gear, only this time it’s $2,000 worth. And it’s the damn rinse tank again. (Notice it’s not my fault.) We finish the dive, rinse and pack our gear, and head off to eat supper at our condo. Two hours later, the sun has set, and we’re back at Turtle Reef getting all geared up for our night dive. The dive shop is locked up tight, and there are 15 tanks in four groups, neatly labelled with masking tape, waiting for the night divers who arranged for them earlier. I’ve got my tank, but I seem to be missing my regs, and my air integrated Oceanic Datamax Pro Plus dive computer! I instantly realize I never took it out of the rinse tank, after our afternoon dive, right here, at this very rinse tank. I frantically sweep my hands through the 5 feet long, 3 feet deep tank, and find nothing. Nothing. NOTHING! All I can think of is that it’s gone. Gone for good. My full set of regs and my computer. I am completely crushed. I’m heart broken. How can such a good trip end on such a crummy note?
Valiantly, I try to put a better face on it. It’s only money. I can replace it. Quickly my friends talk some sense into me. “Surely it wasn’t stolen.” “When we finished our afternoon dive at 5 pm, the shop was closed but two divers where just going into the water.” “Surely they found it, have it in safekeeping and will call the shop in the morning.” “That’s what we’d do.” “That’s what any diver would do.” It made sense, and I hoped for the best. This was going to be the first night dive for my daughter and son-in-law, and my wife wanted me to take them, so she graciously gave me her regs, insisting that she sit out the dive.
The last night dive my wife and I did together was in Cozumel, and we had found an octopus and had watched it hunt and feed for twenty minutes. We were spell bound by it’s fluid grace, and I had been hoping to repeat the experience. Sure enough, 15 minutes into the dive I hear my daughter scream through her regulator.
She spotted the octopus, and the spookiness of the environment got the best of her. Actually, her scream was only half surprise, the other half was delight.
Fascinated, we watched this deft creature change its color from gray-green to brown to dusky red.
The three of us watched our octopus hunt and feed, and were mesmerized by its behaviour. Tickling the tiny crevices with its tentacles, the octopus would explore for crustaceans as well as small fish and bivalves. Suddenly it would balloon out, stretching the skin between its legs to block all exits when it encountered its prey.
As we followed it along the coral fissures of the top of the wall, it eventually swam right off the edge, into the inky darkness of the open water. Spellbound by this bizarre creature, we watched as it danced with tentacles flailing the darkness, sometimes grotesque...
...sometimes poetic in its movements.
Do you know the Octopus poem, by Ogden Nash?
Tell me, O Octopus, I begs
Is those things arms, or is they legs?
I marvel at thee, Octopus;
If I were thou, I'd call me Us.
When we returned to the shore, my wife eagerly listened to our ebullient descriptions, and knew the joy of having followed a foraging octopus on a night dive. Now it was her turn to search for an octopus. As she waited for us, a diver from another group surfaced and had to abort his dive when he couldn’t get enough air from his regulator, and his pressure gauge needle mysteriously “floated “ around on his dial. By coincidence, this very thing had happened to my wife on one of her earlier dives. Her pressure guage needle floated in an unusual way as well. (Although her supply was always adequate.) When she checked with the dive shop, they informed her that this was the tell-tale sign of a tank valve that simply hadn’t been opened all the way! This diver who had aborted his dive was delighted to hear that this explanation meant that his equipment was fine after all, and offered my wife two full tanks of air that he had arranged from the shop for two friends who never showed to join his group that night.
So now, my wife and I had two more tanks, so we sent our friends home and I got to do a fourth dive! No sooner were we in the water 10 minutes than we came across another octopus, hunting his supper. I had sent my camera gear home, so I could now concentrate on enjoying the moment. I reached my finger out to say hello to this squirmy fellow, and tapped him on the arm. (Or was it his leg?) Well, I guess I scarred him as much as he scarred me, because now there was just a big brown cloud of ink where there had just been an octopus!
Continuing along the reef, we came across two more octopuses, and enjoyed the company of each. Wow, what a fabulous night dive. Next trip, I’m not going to leave it for the last night. :-)
Yes, the next day we called the shop, and indeed, the divers who had been there at the end of the day had found my regs and computer, and had them at their hotel. We connected, and although I missed meeting them, they left my gear at the front desk. Now, I was four times blessed!
I have a new desktop picture, here it is.
This vacation had turned out just about as perfect as this Grand Cayman beach scene.
And I promise, I'll double check all the rinse tanks, for the rest of my diving life! :-)
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