Underwater things with Big Teeth

In May, I had a great experience in learning how to scuba dive from a free trip to Bonaire that I'd won off the Internet, indeed, from the nice guys at  Interknowledge Travel Network  Although the Bonaire prize included only the "resort" dive course and not the complete certification, I still had an incredible time and yearned for the opportunity to dive again.

 So for a mere US$85 (that's $30 for instruction and $55 for the dive), I was in the swimming pool with Tod, the aforementioned champion of beverage math and a talented dive instructor as well. After the pool course was completed, my fellow classmates and I were dispatched to Aquaworld, a bit down Kukulkan, for some real diving action.

 Aquaworld is a complete dive / fishing trip / boat rental operation, although the centerpiece of their operation was a rendition of the Ejector Seat ride popular with the county fairs in the U.S. As we boarded the dive boat, the clink of scuba equipment and swish of water was punctuated with skyward-bound screams of terror.

 On the trip out of the lagoon to a destination just shy of Isla Mujeres, we passed through a channel cut through a dense patch of trees. No crocodiles to be seen here, although a specimen of the noisy creature Homo Jetskiius was observed gamboling in the wake of the dive boat.

 Divided into English and Spanish speaking groups, we were given a brief introduction to the events involved with an ocean dive, although several of the participants who hadn't dove before felt that the introduction was a little too brief. Arriving at the dive location, I saw the Atlantis submarine descending, a good sign of abundant underwater life, I hoped.

 Divided again into groups of six or so, we hurled ourselves into the water and followed a rope to the bottom, about 40 feet or so. The first down the rope in our group, I was given the duty of anchoring the other divers to the rope at the bottom: we were instructed to form a human chain. I think the guy next to me, holding onto my BC vest as instructed, was a little nervous and nearly pulled the vest off me. A frogman cameraman then appeared to take pictures.

 While the marine life wasn't as abundant as in Bonaire, there was some I didn't see in Bonaire . . . such as a large school of shimmering barracuda passing by. We followed a dive master in our own loosely-defined school (by then Senor Kung-Fu-Grip had released me and was swimming on his own). This was a great opportunity to check out the crevices in the rocks and coral for life, which included a moray eel and all kinds of fish. I particularly liked the freedom our group had to do some independant exploring, which was not permitted much during my dive time in Bonaire.

 The biggest surprise came as I passed closely by a cave under a large rock. The dive master made the look-at-that gesture, and a saw just to my left the ugliest sets of teeth belonging to a very long barracuda. Evidently, this was his cave, and we didn't argue about that for long.

 Later we swam through a tunnel in the rocks. No toothy beasts in this opening, although frogman-cameraman mysteriously appeared near the exit, taking photos that later would turn up for sale in the Aquaworld shop.

 After returning to Aquaworld, we were given ID cards that were good for unlimited $55 two-tank dives at that Aquaworld facility or the one in Cozumel. Yeah, and I had to leave the following afternoon.
 

The Sad Part: Getting Home

 Let's just say it was freezing by Cancun standards when I got off the plane in California. Next day's shock of returning to the world of meetings, beepers, voice-mail was likewise unkind.
 

An Epilogue: Post-Cancun tales, all because of Cancun

 After leaving Cancun, there was still some unfinished business, therefore some more tales to tell:

• OK, I have to give Best Day some credit: About two weeks after my return, the Best Day travel agency finally credited my VISA card for the one-night's stay at the heinous Condominios Cancun Plaza -- and for the extra night they had inadvertently charged when Sr. Diaz first promised the credit. And the Condominios Cancun Plaza management, in an investigation of a rash of thefts, is supposedly actually interrogating employees, particularly those with nice watches. As of October '98, Best Day was still selling rooms at the crooked Plaza.  Who knows, maybe they cleaned up their act by now.

 

• Budget Rent-a-Car: A Warning! Upon receiving my credit card statement, I also noticed that Budget rental car had charged my account about US$100 more than the agreed-upon amount when I returned the Tracker. I called Budget's customer service number to have this charge corrected. The surly "service" agent said that it would take at least 3 weeks even to get a copy of the car rental bill to see how it differs from mine. I vowed never to rent from Budget again: fraudulent behavior on the part of the Budget franchises obviously is tolerated on the corporate level. You have been warned!

• A sequel to Tales from the Yucatan -- I returned again in '97 and came home with another batch of tales to tell...

 
•  And last but certainly not least ... more tales from Brazil... My Brazilian friend Renata has twice invited me to her hometown of Rio de Janeiro; both times she was kind enough to provide me with next-to-free travel on her airline, generous hospitality, and all that beautiful Rio has to offer.  I've since then gained a great appreciation of all things Brazilian, learned basic functional Portuguese, and extended my international horizons beyond the Yucatan Peninsula.  My latest trip to Rio was for Carnaval, which itself made for another great travel tale.

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