Belize, Day 4

Day 4 - the day of legend. Today, we were to visit the world-famous Blue Hole. Declared by Jacques Cousteau to be one of the ten greatest dive sites in the world, it certainly had a lot of hype to live up to. 

I'd read about the blue hole quite extensively...it's one of those cool phenomenon you get caught up in on Wikipedia. A massive sinkhole, 400 feet deep, in a perfect flawless circle, when viewed from above. It looks so oddly intentional, almost too perfect. Plus, it's deep, too deep to dive to the bottom, and that makes it ever more mysterious. 

The other fascinating thing about it, is that when you go there...they take you quite deep. Too deep, really, to be within prescribed limits. PADI (The world's main diving authority) recommends that you don't dive beyond 60 feet with your open water certification. They'll let you go to 100 with your advanced open water. The blue hole has these sandy ledges periodically on the way to the bottom, beneath big overhangs from which huge stalactites hang down. The nearest of these, is at 135 feet.

Now our divemaster Russell, a beast of a man who must be the single fittest person I've ever seen, ran a tight ship. No pun intended. He immediately laid down the law, made it clear in his island-flavoured English that there would be absolutely no flouting of the rules. Things were to be done his way, and exactly. No messing about. Go down to the sandy ledge below the stalactites, and he would terminate that dive and the rest of your dives for that day. If you couldn't descend to 135 in four minutes, you'd make your way back up. You would complete the five minute safety stop at five metres without question. And if you had a problem, you wouldn't ask your buddy - you would go straight to him. Your buddy was only going to make things worse. He's the professional.

So I felt a bit better, but still rather nervous. A number of people on the boat (Michelle included) had only their Open Water designation. Some had only done one or two dives at most! This was a serious thing we were about to do. So leaving ourselves in Russell's hands, we all got in the water.

When you first hop in - you're on the edge of the hole. There's a totally reachable sandy bottom. So at first it's no big deal. Everyone descends to the sand, and peers over the edge into the abyss. The bottom, as the name implies, is blue. Just blue. It might as well be infinite. Then, you go over the edge.

Everyone more or less descends as a group, but Michelle had trouble with her ears. She couldn't equalize. I hauled on Omar (Russell's assistant, another divemaster) and pointed at Michelle, indicating my ears. He went to assist her. I waited, in limbo. Omar's buddy kept descending, I remained in the middle. Omar kept trying to help Michelle, asking her to ascend slightly and try again. When I asked what was up, he told me he would buddy up with Michelle, and that I should go on. I looked down and saw this:

I figured I'd better hurry after those yellow fins.

I released all the air from my BCD and sank after the diver in front of me, watching the numbers on my watch rise as I fell. 24 metres...26...30...34...38...this was deeper than I'd ever been. Finally, at 41.4 metres...135 feet, the side wall of the Blue Hole opened up, and ushered in a seascape worthy of the moon.

It's dark at 41 metres. The sea starts to work on you in other ways than usual. For one thing, it's quiet. Normally, you can hear the occasional boat go by. Maybe the bubbles of your last breath, or the one before that as they scuttle toward the surface. The pressure of the deep silences all that. You only hear your own breathing inside your own head. Once your bubbles leave your mouth, they're gone - and the silence is deafening.

The pressure gets at you there, with the silence. Then your mask starts to feel tight. It is tight. It's being pushed against your face with three times the pressure you feel on the surface. Three atmospheres. Your air supply is being pushed on too. Each breath you take, you have to pull a little harder to get it down the hose. Each time, you hope it works the way it's supposed to.

Colours are gone as well. Past 90 feet or so, red doesn't exist. After that, you start to lose orange as well. Everything is dark, gray, and blue. You look down at the sandy ledge beneath you. It doesn't look that far. But you remember the divemaster's warning. Don't go down there, or your diving is over. I looked at my watch...41.4 metres. I looked back at the ledge. Must be 45...47 maybe. 41 is the deepest I've ever been...and this already feels insane. The nitrogen narcosis is working on me a little too. I feel giddy, and light...but maybe that's just because where I am is just so amazing. 

I emerged from the other end of the row of stalactites, and already, it was time to head back up. Your air is compressed in the tank at that depth, along with everything else, but your lungs are the same size, so you tear through your air supply. 21 minutes on a cylinder that'll normally give you 70. I started slowly ascending toward the murky, gray-blue surface. It was a bright sunny day, but looking up, all you see is this:

I followed the group up toward the ledge above the hole, and turned around for one last look. I saw two divers coming towards me up from the gloom. 

Michelle! She'd sorted her ear problem out and Omar had taken her down behind us. I was both relieved, and terrified. Just the two of them! All the way down there. And Michelle, so new to diving! But she was with the guy to be with, and he saw her through the whole way.

I waited for her to rejoin me, and we continued our ascent. I was taking some close up shots of the coral growing on the edge of the sandbar, when Michelle frantically tapped me on the shoulder and pointed like crazy. I turned around, and out of the deep came the sharks.

Real sharks. None of these placid, soft-core nurse sharks. These were reef sharks, and while we were still too big to be on the menu...that didn't stop my heart from doing a little front flip. They came up so fast. I realized so quickly how futile it would be to try and swim away. These guys are made for water. Lightning fast movement is nothing to them. And they were ready to show us.

We crowded together as they circled...their instinct is to get behind you, in the advantageous, predatory position. With all of us in a circle, there was no way to do that, so they concentrated on lunch instead. 

We watched them go full speed in short bursts after fish just meandering by. They'd blast up to a fish, and in one quick bite, swallow them whole. Circling, turning, boosting forward through the water...it was clear they just wanted a quick bite of fish...but they still came awfully close to us. Sometimes within a few feet!

It was wild. I'd never seen sharks like this before. The only real shark I'd ever seen while diving was in the Florida keys, and while it was night time (which was creepy) the shark had been sleeping. Not quite as terror-inspiring as watching a pack of them feed. Once they'd had their fill, they disappeared back into the deep.

The most unsettling thing that I couldn't get out of my head was...those sharks were down there when we were down there. What if I'd seen them at 41 metres? What if I'd seen them when it was just me and a diver I didn't know, huddling together at the rear of the group? Surrounded by the pressure, and the darkness? No way to keep all of them in front of us...I don't know what I would've done. The thought is near paralyzing. So eerie. I'll have my sharks served when I'm with a large group in shallow water, thank you very much. I'll tell my imagination to stay those thoughts. 

We clambered back on the boat and talked excitedly about what we'd seen and done. Everyone was a bit giddy, and not just from being a little narc'd. It was quite an experience...one we were all glad to have had together.

Those with cameras snapped a couple of pics of the blue hole from above water as we trundled on to our next site. I left my camera in my underwater housing, so my above-water shots aren't so hot. 

Our next dive was less dramatic, but still quite exciting! We dove a wall off of half-moon caye.

The landscape was cool, but certainly not the alien world of the blue hole. It was still fantastic though, and another of those eerie but cool reef sharks came to see what we were up to. 

He slowly patrolled the edge of the wall, working his way back and forth along the group, taking every opportunity to get behind us and move in closer. Michelle and I, being at the back of the group (due to my stopping to shoot photos and video of everything) had to keep turning around to discourage him. Every time we turned around, he'd veer off out into the open sea, only to curl back a few moments later and try again. We kept him at a safe distance.

Look closely in this one...you'll see him out there.

There were a number of other great sights on this dive, but the cuts through the coral and the wall's edge were the finest.

We took our second surface interval on half-moon caye, an eco-park way out in the middle of nowhere by the blue hole, where nothing may be left behind or taken away. They're very serious about this, and even made us wash our feet so none of the sand be tracked off the beach and taken away. 

The island had a bird sanctuary on it! We had a nice rice-and-beans based lunch and then had a look at the baby blue-footed boobies. There were hermit crabs crawling all over too...and big iguanas! Iguanas always look so grumpy. They're great lizards though. I like them.

Back in the water, after a fine lunch and seeing some frigate birds cruise overhead, we turned our eyes to the fauna beneath the sea. Almost right away, this guy floated by!

Michelle named him Senor. He looked like he was flying through the water, adjusting his wings like flaps to cruise in for a landing somewhere out of reach of us. Turtles are the coolest.

Russell brought some fish food on this dive, and so the already plentiful fish just swarmed around our group. It was fantastic. They swirled like a tornado, coming close enough to touch you, with us divers at the eye of the storm. A very cool experience. 

There was even more life to be had. Michelle spotted a lionfish, and I found a little shrimp poking his feelers out between some coral!

Lionfish are an invasive species pretty much everywhere in north & central america, but they sure are beautiful to see. No one had a spear or speargun, so we all just waved and floated by.

After a long day of diving three dives, and seeing the island on our downtime, we lugged ourselves off the boat just as the sun was coming down from the sky. We'd been chatting almost all day with some nice folks on the dive boat, and so we made plans to go grab a bite to eat in town. After dropping off our gear back home (and battling a few cockroaches in the bathroom) we headed out to Elvi's diner (you read that right...not Elvis....Elvi's. Dudes name was Elvi.).

They were from the US, and so after extensive chat about the similarities and differences between us, with a brief recess to have the necessary Rob Ford conversation, we slowly meandered home with a few drinks in us, laughing and relaxing at the end of a long and satisfying day. Good dives, good friends, and good food. Makes for good times, when in good company.

Tomorrow, a day at the beach. For now, goodnight!