Monday, January 26, 2004

posted by: copernicus on 1/26/2004 04:11:00 PM
Puerto Aventuras Vol.4

"Thursday morning,
packing my dive bag for Chac-Mool. I've been having nightmares the last 3 nights. In the first one I was a criminal who committed a home invasion of a rural family with a partner who beat the husband to a pulp before tying up and robbing the family. It wasn't me in the dream, I mean it wasn't my face or my body while it was happening.

In the second one I again was in someone else's body looking out, someone who had a disliked brother that died. My dream character missed the main viewing and went to see the body that night after everyone was gone except the funeral home employees. As I approached the casket, the body sat up, arms still crossed on his chest, turned his head towards me and tried to tell me something, but his eyes and lips were sewn shut. I never found out what the message was.

In last night's nightmare, I was the victim of a home invasion, and got tied up, beaten and eventually shot. I survived, and forever after the house I lived in was haunted.

The last 3 nights I've been waking up every 45 minutes to an hour, turning over, falling back asleep and picking up the dream right where I left off. Fucked up. I haven't dreamed like this in a long time. Years.

Anyway, I've got to get ready for Chac-Mool. More later.
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You ever have one of those days where you experience something wholly new, and it is so cool that it rockets p to the Top 5 list of most exhilarating things you've ever done?

Well, I did today. We dove the Chac Mool and Kulkulkan Cenotes, and their impression on me was as substantial as that of the Great barrier Reef. Wearing a full wetsuit, dive boots, regulators, BCD and tank, and carrying our masks and fins we descended stone steps in the middle of a jungle until we came to a small pool with a large rock overhang above. The pool was of clear, dark blue water and looked like that was it, just a pool in the jungle. We got in, put on our masks and fins, checked our gear, put our regulators in our mouths and descended.

Once underwater we could see about 20 feet below us a light shining but not it's source. As we approached it, we realized it was sunlight emanating from the mouth of a cavern. We went in. Once inside the cavern the water really was crystal clear, and it looked like we were hovering in the air, only the bubbles we exhaled could betray the illusion. At the top of the cavern, a n opening to the surface allowed beams of sunlight to enter and penetrate every nook and cranny of the limestone walls. The cenote is fed by the ocean somewhere deep underground, but it also contains fresh water from rain and the original flooding of melted glaciers thousands and thousands of years ago.

Now here's the weird part: The fresh and salt water don't mix, so there is a barrier at 40 feet. From 0-40 feet deep is fresh water which is a chilly 70-75 degrees. Below 40 feet is salt water which is a balmy 85-90 degrees. This is one of the only places on Earth where the water gets warmer the deeper you go. The barrier is visible, too. It is as prominent as an unshaken bottle of Italian dressing. When you descend deep enough to penetrate the barrier, the two waters swirl at the border like oil and water. The salt water is blurry, and the fresh water is clear.

There is only 1 animal that can live in such extremes of water quality and temperature, the Cenote Shark, of which we saw about 20. They are as docile as Nurse Sharks, and feed on the plants and algae that grow on the limestone. They range in size from 6 inches to 2 feet and paid no attention to us whatsoever.

We explored from one end of Kulkulkan to the other (about 45 minutes under water), surfaced between the exit of Kulkulkan and Chac-Mool, changed tanks, descended again and entered Chac-Mool. Now, Kulkulkan is a series of caverns and rock formations and you basically navigate from room to room. of which there are about 12. Chac-Mool is also a series of caverns, but much larger rooms and with stalactites and stalagmites (Stalactites grow down, i learned. They hold tight to the ceiling) that have been growing for thousands of years and are in excess of 20 feet long.

We were able to find a suitable camera and got about 25 pictures. I have to guard this roll of film with my life on the way home, carefully avoiding magnets and x-ray machines. I will get them printed asap and cross my fingers in hopes that they turn out
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Tomorrow is our last full day in Mexico, and we will be going down to Akumal for a lazy day of reef snorkeling, drinking Bahama Mama's and trying to get some Sun before heading back to snowy KC on Saturday morning. Being as on my outdoor days I've been deep underwater or in a cave, I'm still white as Doris Day. My day on the beach turned cloudy after about 30 minutes, so I didn't get much Sun out of it. I've never really been one to care about tanning, but I'd like to look as if I've been on vacation when I get home.
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So many of the souvenirs and presents I bought are breakable that I will need to wrap them in my dirty clothes. I apologize beforehand if anyone's gifts smell like wet swimsuit.
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things aren't as cheap as they used to be here. Most of the souvenirs were, but food and beer prices in the resort areas are like going out back home. In Mexico you have to pay attention and look for the places the locals go. That's where you find the 80 cent beer and $5 steak dinners. Except I've eaten nothing that walks this week. It's been fresh fruit, fish rice and veggies everyday. And alcohol. And the beauty of the Mayan Riviera. That's what they call this stretch of beach and jungle. A 50 mile strip from Cozumel to Tulum, far away from the neon and spring breakers of Cancun. But still close enough to make the tourists feel safe. No political turmoil or guerilla warfare here, just lots of foreign cash and near nudity. And way too many European guys my size wearing speedos. Scary, scary, scary. You ever see that Simpsons episode when they're in Rio De Janeiro on the beach and Homer wears a speedo? It keep disappearing in some sort of super-wedgie. Stick to the trunks, fellas. Trust me.
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Friday night, 10 pm. Last night South of the Border. Can't believe it's over already. I'm back in my spot on the balcony listening to the palm fronds sing in the ocean breeze and the surf roll into the lagoon. I can see the lights from cruise ships out in the Gulf heading towards Cozumel. My dive buddy has our film, he's going to get the film developed on Sunday, and burn me a copy of the cd-rom of our dives at work Monday morning. I should have it and get some pics on the blog by late Tuesday night. Our shuttle to Cancun airport picks us up at 11 am, but it will be at least 10 pm before we get home. It took 2 hours to get through customs coming into Mexico, hopefully it will be faster on the U.S. side. I imagine there's more people coming into Cancun on a Saturday afternoon than are coming into Kansas City on a Saturday night.

The trip has been fantastic. I'll try to wait a while to think about the fact that I'm going to be flat fucking broke when I get home. I really couldn't afford to come on this trip in the 1st place, but "...Sometimes you just got to say 'what the fuck!' ", and live your life. That quote was from the immortal words of "Booger" from Revenge of the Nerds. He actually said it in Risky Business, but he will always be known as Booger to he American public. I've packed my suitcase, packed my dive bag, wrapped all my breakables in dirty clothes and I guess that's it. I'm so comfortable here that it hasn't sunk in that I'm leaving tomorrow.
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Well, it's tomorrow.
Saturday morning, 11:18 am and we're heading for the aeropuerto. We're on a little 2-lane highway doing about 70 mph in 2 passenger vans. The Mexicans use the shoulder of the road as a passing lane, only the slower traffic drives on the shoulder when someone wants to pass. The result is extreme proximity at high speeds, and occasionally 4 cars abreast on a 2 lane highway at 70 mph
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I'm home now, finally.
It's 11 pm Saturday night. I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed. Goodnight".
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Well, that's the end of the Puerto Aventuras series, thanks for reading.
It's snowing again, big fluffy flakes that land on your eyelashes and make you nostalgic for sledding down hills in cheap plastic saucers with your grade school buddies, getting home late for dinner and stripping to your long johns inside the front door and running to the kitchen. Your grandmother scolds you for washing your hands in the kitchen sink ("That's used for washing food") and you go to bed in the living room reading Stephen King in your sleeping bag by the fire.

We're supposed to get 6 inches tonight.

STAY TUNED