Cozumel Dive Trip, Days 3, 4, & 5: Dive, Eat, Sleep.

Saturday morning. Sunday morning. Monday morning. On a slow boat to Palancar reef. Palancar Caves, Palancar Gardens, Santa Rosa Wall, San Francisco Wall, San Clemente reef. One our first day, the visibility was better than 150 feet, incredible clear. The subsequent days weren't quite as spectacular, and we had to settle for a mere 100+ feet of viz.

Saturday night I did a night dive. Matthew came along for the ride, but didn't dive. Paradise reef is just 20 minutes by slow boat, and at only 35 feet, it's ideal for a night dive. At night, critters you rarely see during the day emerge in great profusion: octopuses, fluorescent squid, glow-eyed shrimp, lobsters, crabs, and rays. I love watching the octopus caught in the beam of a flashlight, frantically changing color to escape detection, flaring out to make itself seem as big as possible, freezing in the shape of a coral head, then flowing into an impossibly small crack in the coral, invisible except for one baleful, glowing eye.

John slept.

In fact, this became pattern. Get up and stumble to the dock, do two dives, return to town around 2, eat lunch, then nap until around 8. After a light dinner, back to bed until morning. Diving doesn't seem like a lot of effort, but it takes its toll. Matthew had the energy to go snorkeling most afternoons, but John and I slept. I've rarely come back from a vacation so rested.

Watching the iridescent flying fish scatter before our bow wave.

John floats by a large porcupinefish. Pictures never do justice to the colors of the underwater 

world. The corals close up come in just about every color: brilliant oranges, yellows, greens,

 purples, blues, and my favorite, a deep, intense red.

Matthew takes in San Clemente reef. The sandy tops of these shallower reefs

 aren't as colorful as the wall dives, but they teem with fish.

I encounter a Queen Angelfish.

 John goes back to school.

 Another day, another turtle.

 Lionfish are spectacular creatures, but they're an invasive species in the Caribbean. 

Since being introduced from the Indo-Pacific in the mid-1990s, they have decimated 

native reef fish populations and thrived in the absence of predators.

That's were we came in. We found a bar that served lionfish and decided it was time

 for some payback.

 Once shorn of their extremely venomous spines, we found that they were delicious in
many ways: pan-fried, in a tangy mojo de ajo sauce, or in ceviche.

 Payback's a bitch, bitches!

 After lunch, we perused the island graffiti.

 Then back to the spartan slumber chamber. No TV, no phone, but plenty of wi-fi 

and A/C and a big, comfortable mattress.

And every day, a different towel sculpture. Sweet dreams!

P.