I think that one of the things I miss most in dive trips is that element of adventure something that is getting progressively harder to find. Few and far between now are those destinations that have no direct route to get there, no air-conditioned hotels, no restaurants that require long trousers. Some place where there are no twist-off caps and beer requires an opener. In the old days, one such place was Hurghada, Egypt.
Once, it was almost impossible to visit the continent of Africa without going through Cairo Airport if the Earth had an armpit, Cairo Airport would have been a good contender. The transient lounge in those days was a simple chicken wire cage that folks stood in and sweated until their next flight - sort of a complimentary Sauna. One had to change from the larger jet that brought travelers from latitudes north and climb on a local commuter for the short hop to the coast. The shared military airfield with anti-aircraft missiles lining its postage stamp size runway was far short of being able to handle an Airbus A380.
There were two hotels then The Meridian (which looked then much as it does now) and Hydrotec Dive Center (owned and operated by Karl Heinz Bühner) - A total contrast in standards of living. Air conditioning was the constant breeze from the seventy degree Fahrenheit waters of the Red Sea hot water came from a solar heated holding tank on the roof the bomb-sight toilet doubled as a shower - food in the open-air restaurant was good. One fully expected to see Bogart and Bergman sitting in the bar with Sam pounding out a love song on his piano but that only happened in our imagination. If you look at a map of Hurghada on the web, Hydrotec Dive Center was a short walk south of the deep-water port.
One of the highlights came on the second day just after the first dives. Everyone came back to the hotel and hung neoprene wetsuits on the balcony to dry. Those living on the first and second floors came back from dinner to discover all their suits were missing. After an initial roar and rumble denouncing the local thieves, we happened to notice a very large, very fat Billy Goat lying atop a pile of brass zippers and buttons. When the group ran at him yelling obscenities and waving their hands the goat just hopped on the roof of the nearest house, stared at his accusers, proclaimed loudly BAAAAA, and farted. Its not like you could run to the store and buy another one so part of the adventure was diving in the chilly Red Sea without a suit.
Each morning the group awoke eagerly and made a hike through town to the deep-water port. Here we boarded our trusty vessel and struck out across seas unknown to find wonderful dive sites. Those ones with large pelagic animals, pristine corals, and millions of colorful hoodoos of all sorts waiting to entice like the song of a Siren. - So wonderful that each dive placed you in sensory overload too much to see too much to experience I need a lifetime I only have a week!
The boat was wonderful a modest wooden hull one that you would never look twice at in a beauty contest but it was large and comfortable. There were three members of the crew. The Egyptian Government required that each vessel operating in its waters have an Egyptian Captain. We had a Bedouin who served as Captain, cook, floor scrubber, deck hand, diesel mechanic, lookout, dishwasher, tank filler, and whatever else was necessary. Karl Heinz drove the boat and showed us around the dive sites. There was one younger Bedouin who did whatever it was that the older gentleman and Karl Heinz didnt want to do.
The desert was not user friendly in the morning the sun came up and the sand heated quickly warm air over the sand rose and left way for the cooler ocean air to rush in to fill the void. So every morning we went out against the wind and into the waves. Every afternoon the sun went down and the sand cooled quickly. The cool air over the land mass settled and forced the breeze back out to sea at about the time we were returning to port. So every afternoon we came back in against the wind and, you guessed it, into the waves. I am one who believes that all lifes journeys should be on a trailing sea so after a day or so this got very old. I also know that you cannot change the wind however you can adjust the sails so I suggested that instead of rolling around on deck for several hours a day we could just anchor in a quiet cove and stay (the hell) out there. The suggestion was given the old unanimous and we became maritime campers. The Captain turned out to be an excellent cook.
After another unbelievable day of diving we anchored on the leeward side of Big Giftun and prepared to have a great evening. Some of us wanted to go ashore but Karl Heinz said that we would get in the way of the Egyptian Soldiers working over there. Being inquiring minds we asked what the soldiers were doing. Disarming land mines that were left over from the Six Day War. Mused Karl. We decided to stay on the boat. The soldiers soon realized that we were there and that we had women aboard. They sat on the shore and stared at the boat. One girl claimed that one of them exposed his privates to her while she was snorkeling. This put us on guard all night prepared to repel boarders. We just sat on the deck looking at stars and eating snacks of melons and fruits wondering what the poor people were doing not really caring. Im sure that there was some Stella Beer involved Stella (the golden liquid in a green bottle with a yellow label and blue star) required an opener and may have saved some of our lives.
During conversation and between bites of melon, Dave and I decided that the proper thing to do was awaken around two in the morning and do a night dive. We did impulsive things back then come to think of it we still do when the opportunity arises. We arranged our gear so that all we had to do was tiptoe up to the deck, throw the gear overboard, and jump in after it. The thing that we didnt figure was that with the stuffy conditions in the cabin, everyone had moved upstairs and were sleeping all over the deck. We stepped over blankets, careful to maintain complete silence, hung a small light on the kingpost, and entered the water with our gear much like commandos departing on a raid.
Before dark we had set the bezels on our compasses for a direct shot at the point and the deep-water reef. Our plan was to go around the point at say 70 feet until one-third of our air was gone, ascend to above 40 feet and come back to the point. Here we would surface and recheck the heading to our anchor light and return to the boat looking for bottom dwellers in the sandy cove. The thing about Dave and me was that we were both very relaxed divers in excellent physical condition (then) and one-third of our air supply lasted a very long time.
We made it back to the point and surfaced to verify our heading to the boat. During the ninety minutes or so that had gone by since our secretive entry, someone had gotten up and discovered our light. Brilliantly thinking that another someone had hung the light 20 feet up on the kingpost to dry, they climbed up there and turned it off believing all along that a favor had been done, after all batteries were expensive.
Have you ever been in serious darkness? So black that it almost sucks the eyeballs right out of your head. Well, Dave and I have. Far off toward the west we could see a faint glow in the sky that we believed to be the lights of Hurghada. We knew that if we went north we would find Big Giftun with its ageing land mines and soldiers with guns last possible option. We also didnt have any visual reference to tell if the current was carrying us to Saudi. Im sure at this point we were discussing how long they would look for us and who would get what when they divided up our stuff. We were also feeling sorry for Joe, knowing that he hated filling out all that paperwork. Then it happened the remnants of eight to ten bottles of Stella trapped in someones bladder was demanding to be set free. That wonderful person who stood up and turned on a light to make his way to the rail. That split second of night piercing light was all that it took for two compasses to be aimed and set. On the road again, we descended and headed off in the direction of the boat.
After what seemed like hours of enjoying rays, scampering crabs, small coral heads with colorful fish, and other denizens of the sand we came across a wide field of strange creatures. Small, black, crustacean appearing dots that were scattered about over the sand brought visions of discovering a new species our names in the books. Tenderly I scooped one of them up with my hands careful to keep it atop a pile of sand so as not to disturb its delicate skin. I held it close to my face trying to see its features watermelon seeds (Citrullus lanatus). I shined my light toward the surface and there was the boat.
It seems that the greatest challenge was getting back on the boat. The folks on deck were convinced that we were the Egyptian Soldiers coming to relieve them of their baubles. After convincing them of our identities, we were back on board. I looked at my watch and pressure gauge two hours and fifteen minutes had elapsed since we slipped from the boat and I still had 250 psi I remember thinking that I should have stayed longer.
I moved to the front of the boat, leaned back, and propped my feet up. A warm, almost hot breeze was blowing off the desert and felt good against my skin. I reached in my pocket for the ever-present bottle opener and the swallow of ice cold Stella felt good against my insides. The lights of Hurghada had disappeared from the west and a gentle orange glow had begun in the eastern sky. A new day, a new adventure life was good.
Once, it was almost impossible to visit the continent of Africa without going through Cairo Airport if the Earth had an armpit, Cairo Airport would have been a good contender. The transient lounge in those days was a simple chicken wire cage that folks stood in and sweated until their next flight - sort of a complimentary Sauna. One had to change from the larger jet that brought travelers from latitudes north and climb on a local commuter for the short hop to the coast. The shared military airfield with anti-aircraft missiles lining its postage stamp size runway was far short of being able to handle an Airbus A380.
There were two hotels then The Meridian (which looked then much as it does now) and Hydrotec Dive Center (owned and operated by Karl Heinz Bühner) - A total contrast in standards of living. Air conditioning was the constant breeze from the seventy degree Fahrenheit waters of the Red Sea hot water came from a solar heated holding tank on the roof the bomb-sight toilet doubled as a shower - food in the open-air restaurant was good. One fully expected to see Bogart and Bergman sitting in the bar with Sam pounding out a love song on his piano but that only happened in our imagination. If you look at a map of Hurghada on the web, Hydrotec Dive Center was a short walk south of the deep-water port.
One of the highlights came on the second day just after the first dives. Everyone came back to the hotel and hung neoprene wetsuits on the balcony to dry. Those living on the first and second floors came back from dinner to discover all their suits were missing. After an initial roar and rumble denouncing the local thieves, we happened to notice a very large, very fat Billy Goat lying atop a pile of brass zippers and buttons. When the group ran at him yelling obscenities and waving their hands the goat just hopped on the roof of the nearest house, stared at his accusers, proclaimed loudly BAAAAA, and farted. Its not like you could run to the store and buy another one so part of the adventure was diving in the chilly Red Sea without a suit.
Each morning the group awoke eagerly and made a hike through town to the deep-water port. Here we boarded our trusty vessel and struck out across seas unknown to find wonderful dive sites. Those ones with large pelagic animals, pristine corals, and millions of colorful hoodoos of all sorts waiting to entice like the song of a Siren. - So wonderful that each dive placed you in sensory overload too much to see too much to experience I need a lifetime I only have a week!
The boat was wonderful a modest wooden hull one that you would never look twice at in a beauty contest but it was large and comfortable. There were three members of the crew. The Egyptian Government required that each vessel operating in its waters have an Egyptian Captain. We had a Bedouin who served as Captain, cook, floor scrubber, deck hand, diesel mechanic, lookout, dishwasher, tank filler, and whatever else was necessary. Karl Heinz drove the boat and showed us around the dive sites. There was one younger Bedouin who did whatever it was that the older gentleman and Karl Heinz didnt want to do.
The desert was not user friendly in the morning the sun came up and the sand heated quickly warm air over the sand rose and left way for the cooler ocean air to rush in to fill the void. So every morning we went out against the wind and into the waves. Every afternoon the sun went down and the sand cooled quickly. The cool air over the land mass settled and forced the breeze back out to sea at about the time we were returning to port. So every afternoon we came back in against the wind and, you guessed it, into the waves. I am one who believes that all lifes journeys should be on a trailing sea so after a day or so this got very old. I also know that you cannot change the wind however you can adjust the sails so I suggested that instead of rolling around on deck for several hours a day we could just anchor in a quiet cove and stay (the hell) out there. The suggestion was given the old unanimous and we became maritime campers. The Captain turned out to be an excellent cook.
After another unbelievable day of diving we anchored on the leeward side of Big Giftun and prepared to have a great evening. Some of us wanted to go ashore but Karl Heinz said that we would get in the way of the Egyptian Soldiers working over there. Being inquiring minds we asked what the soldiers were doing. Disarming land mines that were left over from the Six Day War. Mused Karl. We decided to stay on the boat. The soldiers soon realized that we were there and that we had women aboard. They sat on the shore and stared at the boat. One girl claimed that one of them exposed his privates to her while she was snorkeling. This put us on guard all night prepared to repel boarders. We just sat on the deck looking at stars and eating snacks of melons and fruits wondering what the poor people were doing not really caring. Im sure that there was some Stella Beer involved Stella (the golden liquid in a green bottle with a yellow label and blue star) required an opener and may have saved some of our lives.
During conversation and between bites of melon, Dave and I decided that the proper thing to do was awaken around two in the morning and do a night dive. We did impulsive things back then come to think of it we still do when the opportunity arises. We arranged our gear so that all we had to do was tiptoe up to the deck, throw the gear overboard, and jump in after it. The thing that we didnt figure was that with the stuffy conditions in the cabin, everyone had moved upstairs and were sleeping all over the deck. We stepped over blankets, careful to maintain complete silence, hung a small light on the kingpost, and entered the water with our gear much like commandos departing on a raid.
Before dark we had set the bezels on our compasses for a direct shot at the point and the deep-water reef. Our plan was to go around the point at say 70 feet until one-third of our air was gone, ascend to above 40 feet and come back to the point. Here we would surface and recheck the heading to our anchor light and return to the boat looking for bottom dwellers in the sandy cove. The thing about Dave and me was that we were both very relaxed divers in excellent physical condition (then) and one-third of our air supply lasted a very long time.
We made it back to the point and surfaced to verify our heading to the boat. During the ninety minutes or so that had gone by since our secretive entry, someone had gotten up and discovered our light. Brilliantly thinking that another someone had hung the light 20 feet up on the kingpost to dry, they climbed up there and turned it off believing all along that a favor had been done, after all batteries were expensive.
Have you ever been in serious darkness? So black that it almost sucks the eyeballs right out of your head. Well, Dave and I have. Far off toward the west we could see a faint glow in the sky that we believed to be the lights of Hurghada. We knew that if we went north we would find Big Giftun with its ageing land mines and soldiers with guns last possible option. We also didnt have any visual reference to tell if the current was carrying us to Saudi. Im sure at this point we were discussing how long they would look for us and who would get what when they divided up our stuff. We were also feeling sorry for Joe, knowing that he hated filling out all that paperwork. Then it happened the remnants of eight to ten bottles of Stella trapped in someones bladder was demanding to be set free. That wonderful person who stood up and turned on a light to make his way to the rail. That split second of night piercing light was all that it took for two compasses to be aimed and set. On the road again, we descended and headed off in the direction of the boat.
After what seemed like hours of enjoying rays, scampering crabs, small coral heads with colorful fish, and other denizens of the sand we came across a wide field of strange creatures. Small, black, crustacean appearing dots that were scattered about over the sand brought visions of discovering a new species our names in the books. Tenderly I scooped one of them up with my hands careful to keep it atop a pile of sand so as not to disturb its delicate skin. I held it close to my face trying to see its features watermelon seeds (Citrullus lanatus). I shined my light toward the surface and there was the boat.
It seems that the greatest challenge was getting back on the boat. The folks on deck were convinced that we were the Egyptian Soldiers coming to relieve them of their baubles. After convincing them of our identities, we were back on board. I looked at my watch and pressure gauge two hours and fifteen minutes had elapsed since we slipped from the boat and I still had 250 psi I remember thinking that I should have stayed longer.
I moved to the front of the boat, leaned back, and propped my feet up. A warm, almost hot breeze was blowing off the desert and felt good against my skin. I reached in my pocket for the ever-present bottle opener and the swallow of ice cold Stella felt good against my insides. The lights of Hurghada had disappeared from the west and a gentle orange glow had begun in the eastern sky. A new day, a new adventure life was good.