There is a risk you take in dreaming too much about something. Over time, the anticipation can grow beyond what the reality is capable of delivering, and when you eventually get there, it's a disappointment. But sometimes the real thing meets or exceeds your expectations, as the silence and immensity of the Grand Canyon exceeds what can be evoked by mere description. And so it was with the cenotes of the Yucatan.
About a year and a half ago, I stumbled across Andrew Georgitsis's Mexican Cave Video on the Scubaguys site. I watched with amazement as the incredible beauty of the cave unfolded on the screen, and I thought, "I've got to do that." The idea of diving caves has guided me since then, and it was natural that, when we planned a trip to Cozumel with friends, I would try to get to the mainland and see what I could of the caves. Cavern tours are possible for people with only OW training, and I knew a friend had done a week of tours with the guys at DIR Mexico, so I contacted them to set up a day or two of the same kind of thing for us. We had some difficulty with e-mails not getting through, but finally, I thought everything was sorted out, and on Monday, March 26th, we were to head for Tulum.
Unfortunately, that morning, I awoke to the sound of my husband vomiting. He had a bad case of turista, so he stayed home, and KMD and I shouldered our gear bags at 6:30 in the morning and headed for the Playa del Carmen ferry. A short twenty or so minutes later, we easily found a cab driver who was pleased to make the half hour trip to Tulum. In fact, he was so pleased, he gave Danny his phone number and he came and picked us up in the afternoon, and met us at the ferry the next morning. This made life very easy.
We drove through the very flat land, taking in the tremendous development and the large number of resorts that have been built in the area, and finally, the cab drew up outside a dumpy stucco building just like all the other dump stucco buildings we had passed. (BTW, the dumpiness is all external -- Inside, Zero Gravity is one of the cleanest, best stocked and organized dive shops I've set foot in yet, and that includes the gear storage and repair areas as well. If you want meticulous, go look at Zero Grav.) Outside were a van and a beat up pickup truck, and a skinny guy in his early 30s. He walked up as we got out of the taxi and said, "There were supposed to be FIVE of you!" I said, "No, five was three months ago. I've been talking to Danny . . . " and he interrupted, "I'm Danny." I was shocked. There was no WAY this guy had been doing cave diving and exploration for almost 20 years, unless he started in diapers. (My Fundies instructor has the same incredible youthfulness -- Do you think Nitrox or helium has anti-aging qualities?) At any rate, I quickly explained how we had gone from five to two, and Danny stifled his irritation and we began to get organized.
(It turned out, as I learned later, that they rarely do cavern tours, especially in single tanks, and they had had to break down stage bottle setups for tanks for all of us. We were reminded regularly by the stickers on the tanks that we were not to exceed 120 feet of depth
)
First, Danny wanted to figure out if there was any gear we needed, so he went through the list: Regulators? Check. BCs? Check. After the third or fourth brisk response from me and Kevin, Danny smiled and said, "Hey, guys, this isn't a class, you can chill." I think we were a bit nervous, and determined to make a good impression. Danny was surprised and pleased to discover we had good primary lights (which, by the way, added enormously to the experience of the caverns). We loaded our gear into crates and put it in the back of Danny's very well used van. The interior appears to have seen many years and miles of cave diving, but despite the wear, it is like the shop -- meticulously organized. And, of course, the car keys hang on a bolt snap
Off we went to Ponderosa, which is a large cenote used a lot for swimmers and snorkelers, as well as cavern tours and cave divers. The open water is about 80 meters long. I know this because someone asked Danny while we were there, and he said he knew the dimensions because they do the Cave 1 swim tests there. Swim tests -- the very phrase gave me the shudders. At any rate, it's a well developed cenote, with parking, shaded tables, and a platform and ladder for entry. We walked down and looked at the water, and then came back up to get the cavern tour introductory briefing.
Danny started with the history and geology of the Yucatan and how the caves were formed and developed their decorations. He then covered the five rules of accident analysis, as well as reviewing proper trim and non-silting propulsion and signalling protocols. I was sort of surprised by all that, since he knew we had both passed Fundies, but it turns out this briefing is standardized and mandated for all cavern tours. He went through the dive moment by moment, how the cave would run, what we would see, what he would point out to us, and what he wanted us to do at different points. Once he was finished, we set up our equipment, which I enjoyed, after three days of having someone else do it for me. We got dressed, and headed down to the water.
There, we reviewed the dive plan, and despite Kevin and me having done this in the parking lot already, we did an exhaustive head-to-toe equipment check. There, I got gently scolded, because when I was asked if my backup light was working, I said, "I checked it in the parking lot." Danny just looked at me and quietly said, "How do you know it didn't flood?" And I looked rueful and told him I just wasn't very good at restowing the light. And equally quietly, he said, "Well, if you aren't good at something, that's not a reason not to do it. It's a reason to do it more often." And, of course, he was right.
The main line in the cavern at Ponderosa does not extend to open water, so Danny had to run a reel in about 50 feet or so. He tied off, and we swam the gold line, which goes from the main cenote to and through a second one, and a little further on. For those who aren't familiar with the area, the cave systems are extensive and not far underground. From time to time, the rock overlying a portion of cave collapses, creating a sinkhole, or cenote. It is quite possible to swim from one area of open water, through a portion of cave, to a second and distinct opening. The rules of cavern diving vary from agency to agency, but we were working with a definition of "no further than 200 feet from open water". Two hundred feet from light is actually quite a long way, and there were times when one could only be sure there was ambient light if one covered one's primary and peered into the distance. It's not cave diving, but I think it's a good fascsimile thereof.
Ponderosa isn't (or at least the portions we dove weren't) heavily decorated, but the rocks are full of fossils, which Danny pointed out to us as we went along. There is a halocline there, which is a strange visual phenomenon, as you pass through a layer of very disturbed visibility and distortion. To my surprise, there was a thermocline associated with the change as well -- The salt water was MUCH warmer than the fresh. Danny had warned us to expect the buoyancy change going from fresh to salt, but honestly, I didn't notice much.
We turned the dive at the "Peligro" sign which marked the end of the cavern zone, and swam steadily back to our entry. Seeing the light coming through the open water, as you come out of the darkness, is just as magnificent as people's photographs suggest.
About a year and a half ago, I stumbled across Andrew Georgitsis's Mexican Cave Video on the Scubaguys site. I watched with amazement as the incredible beauty of the cave unfolded on the screen, and I thought, "I've got to do that." The idea of diving caves has guided me since then, and it was natural that, when we planned a trip to Cozumel with friends, I would try to get to the mainland and see what I could of the caves. Cavern tours are possible for people with only OW training, and I knew a friend had done a week of tours with the guys at DIR Mexico, so I contacted them to set up a day or two of the same kind of thing for us. We had some difficulty with e-mails not getting through, but finally, I thought everything was sorted out, and on Monday, March 26th, we were to head for Tulum.
Unfortunately, that morning, I awoke to the sound of my husband vomiting. He had a bad case of turista, so he stayed home, and KMD and I shouldered our gear bags at 6:30 in the morning and headed for the Playa del Carmen ferry. A short twenty or so minutes later, we easily found a cab driver who was pleased to make the half hour trip to Tulum. In fact, he was so pleased, he gave Danny his phone number and he came and picked us up in the afternoon, and met us at the ferry the next morning. This made life very easy.
We drove through the very flat land, taking in the tremendous development and the large number of resorts that have been built in the area, and finally, the cab drew up outside a dumpy stucco building just like all the other dump stucco buildings we had passed. (BTW, the dumpiness is all external -- Inside, Zero Gravity is one of the cleanest, best stocked and organized dive shops I've set foot in yet, and that includes the gear storage and repair areas as well. If you want meticulous, go look at Zero Grav.) Outside were a van and a beat up pickup truck, and a skinny guy in his early 30s. He walked up as we got out of the taxi and said, "There were supposed to be FIVE of you!" I said, "No, five was three months ago. I've been talking to Danny . . . " and he interrupted, "I'm Danny." I was shocked. There was no WAY this guy had been doing cave diving and exploration for almost 20 years, unless he started in diapers. (My Fundies instructor has the same incredible youthfulness -- Do you think Nitrox or helium has anti-aging qualities?) At any rate, I quickly explained how we had gone from five to two, and Danny stifled his irritation and we began to get organized.
(It turned out, as I learned later, that they rarely do cavern tours, especially in single tanks, and they had had to break down stage bottle setups for tanks for all of us. We were reminded regularly by the stickers on the tanks that we were not to exceed 120 feet of depth
)First, Danny wanted to figure out if there was any gear we needed, so he went through the list: Regulators? Check. BCs? Check. After the third or fourth brisk response from me and Kevin, Danny smiled and said, "Hey, guys, this isn't a class, you can chill." I think we were a bit nervous, and determined to make a good impression. Danny was surprised and pleased to discover we had good primary lights (which, by the way, added enormously to the experience of the caverns). We loaded our gear into crates and put it in the back of Danny's very well used van. The interior appears to have seen many years and miles of cave diving, but despite the wear, it is like the shop -- meticulously organized. And, of course, the car keys hang on a bolt snap
Off we went to Ponderosa, which is a large cenote used a lot for swimmers and snorkelers, as well as cavern tours and cave divers. The open water is about 80 meters long. I know this because someone asked Danny while we were there, and he said he knew the dimensions because they do the Cave 1 swim tests there. Swim tests -- the very phrase gave me the shudders. At any rate, it's a well developed cenote, with parking, shaded tables, and a platform and ladder for entry. We walked down and looked at the water, and then came back up to get the cavern tour introductory briefing.
Danny started with the history and geology of the Yucatan and how the caves were formed and developed their decorations. He then covered the five rules of accident analysis, as well as reviewing proper trim and non-silting propulsion and signalling protocols. I was sort of surprised by all that, since he knew we had both passed Fundies, but it turns out this briefing is standardized and mandated for all cavern tours. He went through the dive moment by moment, how the cave would run, what we would see, what he would point out to us, and what he wanted us to do at different points. Once he was finished, we set up our equipment, which I enjoyed, after three days of having someone else do it for me. We got dressed, and headed down to the water.
There, we reviewed the dive plan, and despite Kevin and me having done this in the parking lot already, we did an exhaustive head-to-toe equipment check. There, I got gently scolded, because when I was asked if my backup light was working, I said, "I checked it in the parking lot." Danny just looked at me and quietly said, "How do you know it didn't flood?" And I looked rueful and told him I just wasn't very good at restowing the light. And equally quietly, he said, "Well, if you aren't good at something, that's not a reason not to do it. It's a reason to do it more often." And, of course, he was right.
The main line in the cavern at Ponderosa does not extend to open water, so Danny had to run a reel in about 50 feet or so. He tied off, and we swam the gold line, which goes from the main cenote to and through a second one, and a little further on. For those who aren't familiar with the area, the cave systems are extensive and not far underground. From time to time, the rock overlying a portion of cave collapses, creating a sinkhole, or cenote. It is quite possible to swim from one area of open water, through a portion of cave, to a second and distinct opening. The rules of cavern diving vary from agency to agency, but we were working with a definition of "no further than 200 feet from open water". Two hundred feet from light is actually quite a long way, and there were times when one could only be sure there was ambient light if one covered one's primary and peered into the distance. It's not cave diving, but I think it's a good fascsimile thereof.
Ponderosa isn't (or at least the portions we dove weren't) heavily decorated, but the rocks are full of fossils, which Danny pointed out to us as we went along. There is a halocline there, which is a strange visual phenomenon, as you pass through a layer of very disturbed visibility and distortion. To my surprise, there was a thermocline associated with the change as well -- The salt water was MUCH warmer than the fresh. Danny had warned us to expect the buoyancy change going from fresh to salt, but honestly, I didn't notice much.
We turned the dive at the "Peligro" sign which marked the end of the cavern zone, and swam steadily back to our entry. Seeing the light coming through the open water, as you come out of the darkness, is just as magnificent as people's photographs suggest.
