Penetrating Trinity’s Crevice October 13, 2007

To celebrate my first day as a certified diver, I headed over to the fancy Hyatt next door (cameoed in the filming of The Firm with Tom Cruise) to sign up for a diving trip with Red Sail Diving company.  Can’t say the staff looked too comfortable when I told them that I did not have my diving card yet, as I had just finished by 2 1/2 day training yesterday and was not given a card.  Training usually takes about 5 days of class time and 2-3 days of open water, so my schedule was a bit unconventional/dangerous/stupid.  However, it being low, low season the manager didn’t give swiping my card any more thought after a verbal verification from ”Paul” at Eden Rock, a man I had never met and who I’m fairly certain never met me either.  I was a bit concerned about not having “a buddy,” a fellow diver who I swim with and who makes sure I live if I encounter problems in my underwater explorations.  Again, this being low, low season, I worried in naught.  I was one of only 4 people on the boat; my sudden absence would be noticed.  Leading the trip was Gerard, a “Southie,” a new term I learned meaning a South African, and Sara who was English until England lost a Rugby game in the current Rugby World Cup, she then became Welsh.  Didn’t talk to Gerard much, but Sara, a self-proclaimed 30-year-old, has been working around the world for the last few years.  My ears perked up to this, as being close to 30 makes me feel like those days of working as a SCUBA instructor in Thailand are behind me (obviously, her past, not mine).   Sara reminded me that I can be 30 and cool, or as Tim will say on my birthday, 30 and sexy (horrible).  An older couple from Indianapolis with all their own gear was welcomed back, the lady had a speech impediment from her braces.  As she was somewhere between 65 and 70, I found her zest for self-improvement at such an age inspriring in preparation for my 30th birthday.  A 40-or-so-year-old Aussie from Sydney, also with his own gear and underwater camera, sat on my side of the boat.  With a predominance of those from the far corners of the British empire, conversation quickly turned to the Rugby World Cup-apparently things are awry.  The New Zealand All Blacks, the strongest team in the world (see Tim’s post from NZ), were astonishingly beaten by France (!) and Australia by England.  Both southern hemisphere nations are stunned and mortified.  The Welsh are turning English and the Southies are standing by amazed (apparently they had been defeated earlier on).   The folks from Indianapolis were unimpressed by these developments.  They, in turn, had to describe that Indianapolis is in Indiana, and that is in the middle of the continent, that it does have seasons, but no mountains.  No one on the boat with the exception of me had heard of Indianapolis; nor did they seem to need to know more.   

All these people had been on dozens if not hundreds of dives, so I tried to gather as much future vacation planning information as I could.  Bahamas-great for sharks and wrecks.  Belize-great coral.  Some island off of Thailand.  Nothing beats the Maldives.  And of course, Vanuatu.  Everyone looked a bit confused when I asked about the Persian Gulf.  I think other than oil tankers, it does not have much of a connotation.  As I am determined to live a few odd years in the Middle East, I always ask possible Middle East vacations, which are as uncommon with Westerners as might be imagined.  Anyway, apparently Red Sea off of Dubai isn’t bad. 

We traveled about 20 minutes from shore to an area called Trinity’s Caves which are not so much caves as massive corral structures that produce a great deal of crevices and cave-like enclosures.   They joked that they should call them Trinity’s Crevice but that the name would be offensive.  The surface was really choppy so I was initially pretty nervous- the large white buoy we were supposed to stay close to kept knocking me in the head.  When the whole group was in the water, we descended.  Gerard and Sara were afraid I was going to be dive-retarded and kept asking me if I was OK.  Visibility was not great, maybe 30 feet or so, but the caves were spectacular.  Maybe 80 meters or so high in some places (the total depth was 100 ft), they really did create numerous tunnels we slowly meandered through.  On exiting one of these crevices, an enormous eel swam in front of us.  It looked just like it did on the Little Mermaid cartoon, which I know I saw about 15 years ago when babysitting a 3 year old devil named Amanda, but I never really knew that I remembered what the eels looked like.  Large, narrow and tall, greenish/blac, with an evil, evil look.  Scared me way more than the shark in Australia. 

The next dive was a wreck called Doc Polson’s.  It was a cable liner sunk 10 years ago in commemoration of an MD who brought the island’s first hyperbaric chamber.  In the pre-dive pep talk, Gerard described the coral around the area and a bit of the wreck itself.  First, it can be penetrated.  Second, it has a toilet on the roof of the captain’s cabin on which divers sit and get their pics taken.  If that Aussie is true to his word, this blog will be accompanied by exactly such a photo.  Officially, I think you have to be certified to “penetrate a wreck” (sounds so dirty), but this law was relaxed and I followed Gerard into the ship’s bowels.  AMAZING.  I think it was the aspect of an obstacle course I loved, finally realizing why tetanus is one of the 2 vaccines the book emphasizes.  Second, even a 10 yr old cable liner exuded a sense of history and exploration.  I think Tim would have really loved it, can’t wait to go diving with him again, maybe Bahamas for the sharks and wrecks.   

Making the Caymans better for farmers October 11, 2007

I recently read an article in The Economist describing the Australia’s current drought (lasting the last few months) as the worst in a century.  Apparently, the drought is so bad that the country can only produce 1/3 of its crops and the number of livestock has plummeted.  There is a a picture of cracked land and sad looking farms next to the text.  It said that farmers are committing suicide.  

What is amazing about this phenomena is that while Tim and I were there for 3 1/2 weeks, IT RAINED NEARLY EVERYDAY.  Sydney had just gotten over floods when we arrived and was gray, cold, and rainy.  Brisbane was the same, as was the usually very warm and sunny Fraser Island.  Similar experiences in the last few years call to mind 1)Salobrena-the south of Spain, usually hot and dry but cold and rainy when we were there, 2)our long weekend in Maine in the middle of an otherwise sunny summer month, and 3)our Costa Rican honeymoon (although, to be fair, it was rain season down there).  Don’t ever go on vacation with me. 

So I was not surprised to find a gray and rainy Cayman Islands and locals saying things like, “Hm..this is very unusual, at this time of year, it’s almost always perfect.”  The minute we landed, it started to rain.  Then thunder.  What makes the weather less of a problem is the warm air temperature at 85 degrees, occasional sun, and most importantly, …..the water is 85 degress.  That makes the entire point of this trip, SCUBA certification, quite pleasant, despite all else.  While diving in Australia was amazing, the water was 75 degrees.  A big no no, I dreaded slapping on that cold, wet, wetsuit, and shivered during most of my snorkeling.  Turns out my minimum temp I am willing to do is 84.  This may limit Tim’s diving a bit, but I refuse to budge now that I know how sweet it is.

A little more on how I got here:  In the middle of an ED block, I got off a few days in a row and decided to go to the Cayman Islands to get SCUBA certified (I will be “SNORKLER” no longer- see Australia posts).  Cayman are some of the best places in the world for diving and supposedly beautiful islands, so it seemed like a good idea.   I convinced my mom to accompany me, although obviously, she wouldn’t be diving.  We booked the cheapest hotel on expedia, a scary 2 star, bc we’re immigrants and we don’t care. 

I’m a bit “spontaneous” about travel plans, so I didn’t really arrange for a SCUBA course ahead of time.  I figured, in the islands, everyone is so relaxed, it wouldn’t matter, I’d find something.  So I just found some names of schools on Tripadvisor and thought I’d get the details later.  I bet you are thinking that I’m setting up this paragraph to show how wrong I was.  Well, on the contrary.  As usual, my travel spontaneity worked out perfectly and I am currently done with 2 out of 2 1/2 days of SCUBA.  My school is called Eden Rock, named after the large coral about 100 ft away from shore that is used as the deep dive site.  My teacher is a guy named Steve, a corporate finance laywer turned SCUBA instructor who happened to live on 24th and 3rd until 7 months ago when he and his wife quit their jobs to move down here and dive.  Almost a cliche of carpe diem.  It turns out that I am the only student, hence getting private lessons. 

I am doing my SCUBA training not so much from a deep love of all things marine or a strong desire to wreck dive, but bc I don’t want to be left behind as Tim goes on diving adventures.  He LOVES it and could do it night and day.  I’m happy with snorkeling, although today I found out that what I do has a different name, “skin diving,” which sounds much cooler.  It’s still snorkeling but includes diving down to look at stuff.  I hate all that SCUBA equipment.  Now that I stop and think, I’m not a huge fan of most sports with a lot of equipment, like hockey and skiing.  Maybe for the same reason, I loved ju jutsu and running.   

All day, everyone keeps reiterating how unusual this weather is.  How usually, the water is like glass and the skies blue.  When I do my dives, lightening is usually striking the metal barges about a 1/4 mile down the shore.  The waves are quite angry, beating against the rocks on shore.  Getting my flippers on near the ladder is a life-threatening experience, as one large wave would be enough to knock me over and smash my head into the rocks.  Today, after my dives, I went over the the outside shower to rinse off the salt when the skies opened up and started pummeling me..”a natural shower” everyone inside the safetey of the school laughed.  I am sure seeing my pathetic little head bopping around the angry ocean as I perform skills such as “take off the SCUBA vest and sit on the oxygen tank, then put it back on” is quite a scene.   

I can only imagine how nice it must be during what is considered “average weather.” Tim and I will have to come back someday when my curse is over.