Life is much better, down where it’s wetter…

I'm very sneaky...
I’m very sneaky…

I learned pretty quickly that diving can make a person hungry. When I certified in Australia the cook always had the galley counter filled with sweets and cheese when we came back from a dive.  The quick burst of energy from the sugar helps you readjust quickly to the topside world and is especially crucial if you’re diving again in a bit. That’s the route I went on the morning of our dive. A bowl of fruit loops, a couple croissants with jam and some random custard donuty thing. Carb load ahoy! I wanted to avoid my usual omelette though lest I get burpy or worse on the ride across the bay. Besides I’m never that inspired to eat a big breakfast early and this was by far my earliest morning of the trip.

By the time we arrived at the Marina it was still only 8:30ish and the crew was loading the boat for our trip out to into the Bahia de Banderas. Thankfully my friends Chris and Jodi had already been out the week before so I knew it was a good crew. In our case we had our local boat captain Carlos, and British ex-pats Sue (who I believe was the company’s head instructor), other Sue (a relatively new instructor I believe) and Marc. All were knowledgeable as well as chatty and personable. On a sidenote though I do wonder why I seem to always get Brit dive leaders. My pool instructor in Cairns being a Frenchman is the only exception.  Also on board were three people from Washington state an experienced diver and his brother in law who was certifying as well as a 16 year old family friend with a regrettable Mike Tyson henna face tattoo. I’m not sure if the young man was certifying or doing a discover scuba dive.

 

We dove with:

PV-Sea-Dive-Logo-03
Website | TripAdvisor Reviews

Boat leaves from the Marina Vallarta docks near the Airport. Variety of tours available and discounts for booking online in advance. Private tours available.

Cost: $105 USD for a two dive trip inc. equipment and tanks

My Rating: 5/5

There’s little question in my mind that diving with a smaller crew like this makes for a far superior experience. Horror stories of the big boats leaving someone behind aside you can still feel like part of a swarm. You have no guarantee of partners of similar skill, in fact you may end up in a group of people who take half of your air supply just to get to the bottom of the anchor chain. Add on the fact that you’ll usually have your equipment moved and assembled for you (and in this case even lifted out of the water for you) and I have no idea why you’d go out on one of the cattle boats.

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The Miss Marie heading towards Los Arcos

The boat itself was a comfortable 30 odd foot vessel with decent stability and reasonable speed. Despite all the gear on board there was plenty of room for the 10 of us and our personal stuff and the seats were well cushioned for the ride. Mostly importantly for us pale assed northerners there was a canopy to give us some respite from the sun. The trip out of the marina was the usual exercise in yacht gaping that one general indulges in a tropical port. First there were the yachts. Gorgeous forty foot boats, some older but all gleaming and gorgeous. Then came the super yachts with their fancy flying bridges and mounted sea-doo’s. Of course the truly impressive (and outright sickening) mega-yachts came into view soon after that. Ships so large that they contain garages for three jetskis and a launch as big as our dive boat. Ships so large they have smartly uniformed staff cleaning everything in sight and a Robinson on the helipad. In other words ships so large that they cost more than I (and my entire family, any children I might have, and their children as well) will ever make in a lifetime.

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The Life Aquatic

Andrea my scuba buddy checking out his gear on the back of the boat

I’ve been in love with the idea of scuba diving since I first really understood the concept. I’ve always loved the water and even as a small child thought about becoming a marine biologist and living on the coast somewhere.  The thought of being able to stay underwater for hours (tanks last for hours right?) floating weightlessly and chasing fish was something to strive for. I didn’t let the fact that it wasn’t recommended for asthmatics get in the way of those dreams

Somehow that dream got lost along the way. Perhaps it was the fact that I didn’t end up the coast, or perhaps the fact that I ended up in computer science that kept me from diving. More likely it was the fact that diving training in West Hawk or Lake Winnipeg has very little appeal (and still doesn’t really.) I was never going on a warm weather holiday with anyone who wanted to dive so why bother taking the training? Suddenly I was thirty and something I’d been planning to do as soon as I was able to had sat on the life list forever (damn you Mme. Plamondon.)

It wasn’t until Australia came around that I had zero excuses. Suddenly my dreams came back and learning to dive on the Great Barrier Reef as my friends Chris and Jodi had was of paramount importance. I booked a class that started in the classroom and ended with a three day liveaboard course out on the reef. Yet as it came closer I have to admit I started to get nervous. I knew I’d have to pass a medical and all those warnings about asthmatics kept rising in my mind. I can swim reasonably well but I’m no endurance type, would I pass the swimming tests? Even if I passed, what if I freaked out and couldn’t handle it. I had one friend who had bailed on his training the first time he tried to go under the water with a regulator. He wasn’t one to wimp out from a challenge but something about the experience just wasn’t for him and he knew it instantly. Lastly of course despite the fact that I love sharks this was Australia after all.  All these worries (minus the shark/jellyfish thoughts really) were weighing on me as I arrived in Cairns. This was supposed to be highlight of my trip, the culmination of years of dreaming. What was I going to do if I couldn’t get in the water, sit around Cairns for a few days being taunted by all the dive shop signs? I couldn’t help but check out the prices for a quick trip to Alice Springs on the way back to Sydney in case I “suddenly found myself with the time.”

The dive school was fantastic. I’d sprung for probably the best in Cairns and it showed. The instructors were funny but serious when needed and the class was structured well mixing pool and class time to best focus attention. I aced the classroom stuff, passed my medical (required by law in Queensland) and was starting to feel a bit more confident until my first time I the pool with a regulator. Most people who have dived will know what I mean but the feeling of having to train yourself to breathe in and out regularly, mouth only, through this contraption was incredibly weird. I felt weird, and for the night afterwards I considered taking the out and getting the rest of my money back. I think the mask exercises were what really threw me. I was having serious issues doing the exercises to clear my mask of water while still breathing regularly. I was worried that if I was having that much trouble in the pool I’d get myself hurt out on the reef. After a (couple) beer(s) that night I managed to talk myself into going back.

That next day I got over the hump. I can’t remember the exact moment it happened but by the end of the day the instructor was telling people in my half of the group to watch how I was controlling my breathing (and depth level as a result) and my dive buddy and I were having fun practicing the “oh my god I’m out of air” manoeuvres without any worries at all. That night a few of us went to a lecture on some of the creatures we might see out on the reef and I absolutely couldn’t wait. In the end I loved every minute of every dive (see my travelogue for more details) and didn’t feel a bit of panic out there. I would have enjoyed actually having my wetsuit though dammit Pierre. The deep dive got a little cold in just a stinger suit.

Despite my promises to myself to the contrary I haven’t been diving since. Again, despite having plans to maybe finish off my next level of certification the lure of diving the icy waters of West Hawk Lake just isn’t there. My lack of funds while freelancing combined with my lack of vacation time while starting my current job more or less kept me without any options for other dives as well. Thankfully that will be changing this coming week as I head down to Bucerias Mexico for a wedding. We’ve got a couple dives booked, I got a shitty generic dive enclosure for my camera for some new photos (hopefully) and for a few hours at least I’ll get to be that wide eyed kid once more.

 

Antipodean Adventure: Dugong Good Time!

The Whitsundays are a small group of islands just off the coast of Australia (within the Great Barrier Reef) in Queensland.
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After getting another great sleep in my spacious digs I packed up a small bag for two nights out on the ship. All food etc was provided, all they asked was no giant bags and bring your own booze in cans (or full sized wine and spirit bottles) since bottled beer takes up too much garbage space. A little before three I started walking over to the marina with my daypack and a selection of Australian cider and felt about 300% better than the previous morning. It’s amazing what a bit of sleep can do for you. The marina itself was one bay over from the beach area and to get there I had to walk along a really nicely laid out boardwalk around the lip of the bay and past one of the more fancy resorts in town. Once I got to the marina though, I was at a bit of a loss as to where to go. Annoyingly, the travel agent who’d printed my boarding pass for me (not the woman at the hotel) had given me one that said meeting point at BoatX’s meeting point… which isn’t marked anywhere. You think they could have written “Meeting Point North” since that was clearly indicated on the marina map and on the covered gangway where I eventually found out I was supposed to be.

Confusion aside, a little before four a very tanned younger guy came up and asked if I was Tristan, he then rounded up two young Danish girls as well before introducing himself as Jesse. He said he was skipper of the catamaran On Ice and gave us the amazing news that due to a booking snafu, we were the only 3 on what is normally a 10 passenger cruise. Suddenly that discount became the deal of a lifetime. We headed down into the packed Marina and met the deckhand/cook Craig who took our shoes (apparently the “shackles of civilization.”) The girls got an ensuite cabin (which I suspect they didn’t pay for as they’re travelling much like me) while I got my own cabin with a big queen bed and a mini bunk above with what was basically my own head right next door. The crew took the starboard cabins (often they just sleep on deck or on one of the mini bunks) so they were enjoying the sparseness of pax just as much as us. After a quick safety briefing we were underway.

The catamaran was gorgeous, gleaming white and functional yet with an air of unmistakable class. I wasn’t surprised to find out it had started life as a charter boat out of the millionaire’s resort on one of the islands. Apparently it’s had a few celebrity visitors in its time. All I really cared about was our steady progress out into the emerald green waters of the bay. For a while we put up the sails and went along on wind power, but the wind was so intermittent and erratic that eventually the skipper gave up. The engines weren’t loud though so it was still very peaceful. Even sailing out around Airlie Beach the water was very clear and you could often see a fish swimming up into the shallows. As with everywhere on the east coast now that it’s wintertime here the sun set quickly (but beautifully) and we were soon motoring out into the dark. We eventually moored near the lights of several other boats including the sister vessel of “on ice” the rather shockingly named Iceberg (i suppose that less of a bad luck thing in the southern hemisphere?.)

It turns out that Craig had trained as a chef once upon a time so dinner was tons better than I expected. BBQ grilled chicken with Tzaziki, a fresh salad and pesto noodles were the first night’s meal, absolutely delicious and massive portions. Not surprising I suppose as he’s used to cooking for 10+2 crew, but he said they always served a ton of food. The Danes (Signe and Stine) called it a night not long after dinner, knowing it would be a big day tomorrow, but I headed up to the front decking instead and had a gorgeous view of the stars, miles from the nearest streetlight. Beautiful view of the southern cross and many other constellations that are pretty unfamiliar. I’d just gone back to crack open another Cider and talk with the boys when we saw a zodiac tender coming over and Iceberg’s crew hopped on board for a drink (probably figuring by the lack of people on deck that the whole boat was asleep.) Turns out the guy skipping the Iceberg was named Tristram, one of the two brothers that own the company. Everyone was good fun and we all had a long chat before I finally gave in to the rocking of the boat and headed to bed.

I woke up a little after six with the crew, hoping to make the most of the daylight and the current tide conditions. Snagged a glass of orange juice as we waited rather impatiently for the girls. Given that they’d gone to bed at 9 at the latest they took their time getting up. Jesse had actually given up and was bringing the tender in to take me over to the hike start beach when they finally showed up on deck. All of them missed one of the most amazing sights of the entire trip though as looking over Jesse’s shoulder I saw a Dugong (the aussie sea cow I saw in the Sydney Aquarium) surface briefly, then throw his flippers up and dive when he saw all the boats around. Amazing, and a seriously rare treat according to Craig, even for those who frequently sail here. I don’t mean to sound like I’m annoyed with them, they were very nice and hey I like sleep too, I just didn’t go on the boat to sleep. I had a massive smile on my face as we hopped into the launch and headed to shore, passing a small sea turtle poking his head above water. By the time we got to the beach though the girls had delayed us enough that we were climbing the path to the lookout behind the entire party crew of a 32-person tall mast ship which was rather unfortunate, especially as they seemed to the world’s slowest walkers. We put on our shackles of civilization and headed uphill.

When we reached the Hill Inlet lookout it was worth it though. You get a gorgeous view down into a shallow inlet that just swirls with sand. It wasn’t the ideal combo of tide and sun to get the greatest of the patterns (do a quick GIS for Whitsunday Island  and you’ll see what I mean) but it was still gorgeous. Adding to the  wonder were the large number of clearly visible stingrays gliding around in the water hunting for the ghost of Steve Irwin. We were up reasonably high and we could clearly see their stings whipping around in the water… definitely don’t want to be on the business end of one. Stupidly enough we managed to time our exit from the lookout to end up right behind the slowpokes again, though this time in between two groups of them. I got to listen to the thrillingly inane conversation stylings of two Brit girls with that really annoying British valley girl thing going on. Instead of ending every sentence as a question (though they do that a lot too) they sort of sort of a singsong-dipthong thing with the middle of the last word of sentence while at the same time extending the middle syllable or vowel sound of the word to four or five times its appropriate length. As in: “Oh, I love that sh-ohhhhhOWWWWWW. So incredibly grating when she did it every sentence and didn’t stop chattering once for 15 minutes. After heading down to boat we cruised around the point and into the beach visible in the distance from the lookout where we tried out stand up paddle boarding (basically a big surfboard with a long canoelike paddle) which I was ok at, and Windsurfing which I continue to be absolute rubbish at.

After an excellent lunch we continued to cruise north up to the other big island in the chain known as Hook Island. Finally it was time for some snorkelling and we came around the corner into a nice sheltered cove called Manta Ray Bay. We all threw on our (soggy from earlier) wetsuits, it’s unfortunately still the tail end of stinger season and the last thing they want is for one of us to be hurt or killed by the nasty poisonous jellyfish. They’re also protection from some of the sharp bits of coral , though hopefully no one touched any. We were in the water almost immediately and surrounded by parrotfish from the instant we dropped below the dark green surface. Visibility was decent though apparently not as good it can be as they’ve had tons of rain lately. I’m not sure how long we swam around that bay, at least 90 minutes I’m guessing. Tons of parrot fish, angelfish, sandfish and many others I can’t remember of smaller varieties… we also saw several quite large grouper type fish, a small sea turtle and just before getting out a massive tuna. The girls went back to the boat before me, but eventually I hopped back on board and we went two bays down to Maureen’s Cove for another round. Both spots had the same types of fish in different concentrations all swimming over a gloriously colourful landscape of coral reef, sponges, clams and sea cucumbers. I’ll be posting some of the video taken with the underwater camera once I’m home and have some editing tools. After a while we were tired and I think Jesse guessed because he came back over on the inflatable raft, pulling himself along using an underwater scooter. We hopped on top and hung over the sides with our masks on. Laziest snorkelling ever, it was especially nice because we were able to get up speed and glide which let us sneak up on a few of the shyer fish.

Once we were back on the boat again we were all exhausted… paddle boarding, windsurfing two long snorkels and a lot of sun meant we were ready for a rest and some food. Unfortunately dinner wasn’t until we reached our mooring for the night which was still quite a ways away so all three of us curled up on the netting and relaxed in the sun with the sea streaming underneath us. I was unfortunately hobbling everywhere. I must have smacked the boarding ladder jumping off the boat because I felt some pain, but was too excited to really notice. It wasn’t until I got back on the boat the first time and it warmed up a bit that I realized I was in a fair amount of pain. My ankle was pretty quickly swollen with a tennis ball sized lump forming above it. I wasn’t going to let it keep me out of the water though so after some ice and elevation I was back in the water. Things weren’t helped by the fact that I sunburned the top of my feet from having them just above the water surface as I held them clear of the coral. Thankfully things were feeling much better by bed and by morning though it’s stiff I was able to walk semi normally, I won’t be hiking for a few days though. The guys were fairly concerned but I’m sure it’s ok, I do think I likely would have broken something had I not had the wetsuit on though.

That Night we moored at a snorkelling spot on the edge of Hayman Island, once a mega resort in the top 10 in the world. It’s still up there but not quite that high, but actually closed for the moment due to cyclone damage. It was getting close to sunset by the time we dropped anchor surround by a few private yachts and a bunch of other charter boats, these ones of the 28-35 person variety I had no interest in taking. They were every bit as loud and wild sounding as I expected. Our closest neighbour actually ended up being what looked like a pair of older couples blasting some Elvis as the sun set to the west. We ate a few nibblies with another gorgeous sunset as a backdrop. It wasn’t until it was dark that we heard some splashing between us and the elvis boat. Eventually we caught the occasional flick of a dorsal fin across the shimmer of their deck lights in the water. Craig figured the dolphin(s) were coming up to see the light. He went and grabbed a powerful torch and we began to shine it into the water. It took a while but eventually a small bottlenose dolphin that looked like a juvenile began to come almost but not quite into the beam then surface. He was a little nervous of the side of our hull, but got his nerve up eventually and came close enough for us to get a fantastic look at him both above and below the water. Eventually he got confident enough that he’d briefly surface in the light and look at us before flipping over and circling again. A magical way to end what was already one of the top five days of my life.

The next morning I was the first one up and I climbed up on deck to just enjoy the silence. No one else was stirring on any boat close to us and all I could hear was the slap of waves and the occasional creak of a bit of rigging in the wind. Eventually Jesse showed up and told me if I got into my wetsuit he’d give me the scooter and I could head over to the reef before any of the bigger boats got there. Sadly the damn thing’s battery must not have charged because it quit halfway in. He had to take me in on the launch instead, he knew I didn’t want to wait for the girls that morning. In the end I spent about 45 minutes on the reef before a group of girls came over from one of the biggies, all with floaties and half of them screaming when fish got close to them. Thankfully before they showed up and scared everything bigger off I saw a parrotfish that probably weighed as much as I do as well as 3 different Moray Eels looking absolutely evil but fascinating. I caught a short glimpse of a really big turtle in the distance but couldn’t catch up to him. Later, our second stop meant one last snorkel over a more open water reef.  The girls didn’t want to go back in the water so they took the transparent lexan kayak out instead, but I wasn’t passing up the chance. Lots of colourful fish, tidal conditions weren’t as good though. I did get my other really rare spot though, a very furtive looking octopus (thankfully not the mega venomous blue ring one) briefly disturbed by a reef trout brushing by it scooted across and other a different rock. Sadly hopping back on the boat meant it was time to head back, but I must say it was nice to get out of the wetsuit for a while. I’ll be back in one for pool training starting Friday.

I can’t recommend the guys at Real Sail enough. Even had On Ice been full it would have been spacious and luxurious, we just got the bonus. All of the staff I dealt with were courteous and loads of fun, yet they all have a lot of respect for the island conservation area and everything that lives in it. I heartily recommend you head out with them if you’re in this neck of the woods, either on my two night trip or the one nighter on Iceberg if you have less time.