Dear Fellow Diver,
It was my first dive on the seamount Alcyone, three
miles off Cocos Island's south side. I was looking for
schooling hammerheads as I descended the anchor line into a
strong current. Upon reaching the bottom at 110 feet, I was
greeted not by hammers but by a whale shark about 45 feet
long, with a dozen large remoras on his flanks, back, tail,
and around his massive mouth. As he cruised by, 30-pound
albacore jacks suddenly attacked the remoras and devoured
them right before my eyes. The remoras were at least three
feet long, some larger, and the jacks gobbled them down like
so much finger food. The whale shark continued his unhurried
circles around the anchor line until the last remora
was consumed, then he slowly descended out of sight.
I'd visited Cocos Island, off Costa Rica in the
Pacific Ocean, several times. It's always been an exciting
experience that produced hammers and other great pelagic
action and even a whale shark once. In June, I joined a
charter on the 120-foot Sea Hunter for a triangular route to
the remote and rarely visited Malpelo Island (off Colombia)
and then on to Cocos before returning to Puntarenas on the
Costa Rican mainland. It was arranged by Fathoms magazine
and all the divers would be using rebreathers -- I've logged
about 100 dives on the Draeger Dolphin semi-closed circuit
unit. (As a woman traveling alone, I had some initial trepidation
about joining a trip that might attract a certain
"hairy knuckle" macho crowd of techies. As it turned out,
those reservations proved unfounded.)
We departed Puntarenas following a delay after
Fathoms publisher Bret Gilliam and his partner Fred Garth
couldn't land in San Jose due to bad weather. Another
guest coming from England was delayed even later. Gilliam
held the ship, though it cost the group a half-day of diving at Malpelo -- once the ship
left port no guests could hook
up with it.
The vessel is spacious,
but it's certainly a work boat.
The cabins are live-aboard-compact
with good storage. Some
had queen beds as lower berths
with a single bunk above while
others had twin berths or
upper/lower combinations. The
largest cabin features a kingsize
bed. Each has its own
head with shower. The mattresses
are a bit hard, and the
blankets could be more substantial
to combat the A/C, but I
slept like a log. Six- to 10-
foot seas and steady rain made
for a dreary, rough crossing
and half our 20-person group
only appeared for meals during
the 44-hour passage. Gilliam
insisted on turning A/C down to
the temperature of a walk-in
refrigerator, saying it helped
offset seasickness and the
claustrophobia of cabins (which
have only a tiny porthole for
natural light). Following
this, no one got sick and
everyone kept their appetites.
The Sea Hunter is comfortable.
The main salon,
which could easily accommodate
our group, is separate from the
dining area where seven booths
seat everyone without crowding.
The dive deck has ample locker
storage for each diver and
plenty of table space to work
on rebreather preps.
We arrived at Malpelo after two nights at sea. The storm had passed. We
anchored at midday off the west end of the precipitous rocky cliffs that make
Malpelo rise like a spire from the Pacific. It took 45 minutes for the crew to
launch the two 26-foot pangas we used as dive launches. The aftermath of the
storm left a 4-foot swell and a determined drizzle, but no one was complaining.
After loading 10 divers in each of the two pangas, we were off to our first site,
less than five minutes from the ship.
Because of the group's experience and the fact that everyone was on
rebreathers, the Sea Hunter cut divers considerable slack. They permitted us 75-
minute dive times with no decompression or depth restrictions, as long as we
observed the maximum depth for the oxygen mixture. Each dive was preceded by a detailed briefing outlining entry points,
underwater topography, and marine life. The
easy-going dive crew (Mario Arroyo of Costa
Rica, Nico Ghersnich of Italy, and Miguel
Sanchez of Spain) are all TDI instructors
with ratings for Nitrox, decompression procedures,
and rebreathers. Nitrox fills to
any oxygen percentage were provided. The
crew loaded and unloaded the rebreathers
from the pangas at the beginning and end of
each dive day.
The captain, a taciturn Swede who
rarely mingled with the guests, let the dive
staff handle the social interaction. He and
other crew members busied themselves supporting
the daily dive operation while maintaining
the ship, a spotless vessel without so
much as a pinpoint of rust.
Our first site was in the lee of the west cliffs. They told us to expect
large schools of bigeye jacks and countless moray eels swimming over the rocky bottom.
I rolled into 80-degree water with visibility greater than 100 feet. While
drifting down I looked for symptoms of leakage or system failure, but my concentration
was broken when a 6-foot moray swam between my legs. Then another swam
through the double hose loop around my neck. I saw Miguel filming a baker's dozen
of morays gracefully entwining themselves around him. Being groped like a high
school prom date by my personal zoo of eels, I was both exhilarated and cautious,
but I relaxed and carefully finned away to gain some breathing room. The craggy
bottom was alive with swimming eels, many actively feeding. While getting used to
the parade, I drifted along a steep wall in a refreshing current that pulled me
around a corner. Immediately, a 40-foot female whale shark greeted me. For the
next 15 minutes she made several passes, allowing me to swim right next to her.
Back on the surface, I handed up my fins before using the boarding ladder to
climb back into the panga. Those who preferred to lighten their load could remove
their rebreathers and weight belts in the water, and the crew would lift them into
the panga and secure them to their assigned places. After a quick lunch, we
reboarded the pangas for our next dive to the north, where a large pod of dolphins
hung for 20 minutes as we snorkeled with them. Afterward, divers scrambled to
load new film and videotape, and it's a good thing. As soon as we entered the
water, a 45-foot whale shark cruised by at a snail's pace, sweeping his massive
tail in an arc almost 30 feet from side to side. Reaching the end of our group, he turned and repeated his "swim by" in deference, it seemed, to anyone who might
have missed his first pass. This encounter lasted nearly 30 minutes, and I surfaced
exhausted from sheer adrenaline.
I found the large sun deck, up a flight of stairs behind the wheel house and
crew cabins, a grand place to watch the sunsets with a glass of wine at the end of
the day. Forward of the dining salon is a professional video editing suite and a
PC station. E-mails and phone calls can be made from the wheelhouse via the
satellite phone system. Our second day at Malpelo dawned with clear skies and
calm seas. We dropped into a north flowing current to drift through upright pinnacles
known as the Three Kings. I followed Mario down to 130 feet where a massive
school of scalloped hammerheads swam lazily above the white sand bottom 20
feet below. At least 200 sharks averaging 10 feet in length politely ignored me.
As the depth decreased approaching the Three Kings, the hammerheads ascended, completely surrounding me. Then Mario led the group up to 60 feet where the hammerheads
parted ways with us when the current accelerated as we approached the narrow
passage between pinnacles.
Here, hundreds of schooling silky sharks finned through the channel, some an
arm's length away. They have a nasty reputation for aggressive behavior, especially
at Cocos where they've
been known to cause divers
to leave the water following
threat displays. To
be surrounded by hundreds
of the 6- to 9-foot predators
was indeed disquieting,
but they seemed to
accept us as just another
critter in their ocean.
When we reached the
center of the Three Kings
passage, the current conveniently
petered out, and we
were left to swim with
this preposterous aggregation
of silky sharks for
nearly a half-hour. On a
later dive at Monster Rock,
we dispersed to explore the
labyrinth of caves and
overhangs that hosted more
morays. After backing out
of a nest of at least two
dozen eels, I saw a whale
shark making pretty good
headway, so I swam over
the top of the pinnacle to
follow when, at 70 feet, a
second, even larger whale
shark swam up from the
depths -- practically into
Mario's arms. Meanwhile,
the first whale shark,
accompanied by four divers
as escorts, arrived, and I
captured both animals at
once in the frame of my
video camera. I stayed
with the second animal, and
it swam with me until I
ran out of film nearly 10
minutes later. It was all
a bit surreal. We made 11
dives around Malpelo in
three and a half days and
saw 13 whale sharks!
Since we had missed
a half-day of diving at Malpelo, Gilliam let the group vote on
whether to depart for Cocos Island, 400
miles away. Incredibly, the vote was to
move on. It turned out to be the right call
as the weather immediately went sour after
our sunset departure. The captain had to
make a course change to ease the pitch and
roll so dinner plates and glasses didn't
become airborne. We enjoyed a good meal,
and most persons retreated to their cabins
or watched a movie in the main salon, where
there is a good selection of movies and dive
documentaries. Each evening featured exciting
video of the day's diving.
Meal service was buffet, with a variety
of steaks, seafood, poultry, pork, and
pasta. Nothing fancy, but plentiful. They
cheerfully handled special dietary requests.
Between-dive snacks were fresh tropical
fruits and pastries hot from the oven.
Local beer ($1.50) and a variety of soft
drinks ($1) were offered on the honor system.
Decent red and white wines were $10-
$15 a bottle. Hard liquor is not sold, so
most divers brought their own. Local rums
are excellent and typically less than $7.
Thirty some hours of steaming brought us into Cocos' protected Chatham Bay.
The weather gods smiled on us, and the second storm subsided into calm seas and
sparkling sunshine. My panga driver headed for the deep seamount called Alcyone.
Mario set anchor directly on top of the seamount, and we followed him after his
lift bag signal came up. Alcyone is a cleaning station for the hammerheads, and
it's possible the whale sharks have developed their own symbiotic deal with the
predator jacks (that's the remora slaughter I mentioned earlier). Alcyone typically
sports 4-knot currents, which require a hand over hand descent on the anchor
line. Then I could make my way across the pinnacle easily by finding shelter or
"current shadows" behind the ledges or rock outcroppings. The most strenuous conditions
were at Dos Amigos Pequeno, another rocky spire off Cocos' west end. It
was not uncommon to be dropped in 6- to 8-foot swells with the immediate need to
swiftly descend through as much as 20 feet of whitewater foam in a current that
could sweep you off the site completely if you missed the sides of the steep rocky
slope at 75 feet. (Three weeks before two divers were lost and died while diving
the same site from the Okeanos Aggressor.) But with good briefings and sound
advice on how to manage the entries and descents, as well as strict run times and
ascent guidelines, none in our party had problems ... and the hammers were as
thick as mosquitoes at a Cape Cod summer picnic.
During several dives at Alcyone, descents to about 110 feet usually placed me
smack in the middle of the hammerhead shark action. I'd find a rocky ledge to use
as a current break and never move during the lengthy dives. Wave after wave of
thousands of hammers, some pushing 14 feet or more, paraded a foot or so above me.
I dove a bottle mix in the rebreathers of Nitrox 40 or 42 that was equivalent
to breathing Nitrox 32 with open circuit gear. The 75-minute run times generally
put me into short decompressions usually by the second dive. On the third
dive, I frequently had 10-15 minutes of deco if the site had the most action below 100 feet. There were no problems doing decompression stops on the anchor line
since the life support in the rebreathers gave us almost three hours of gas --
most open circuit divers could not do the exposures at all let alone the decompression
stops.
The nearest chamber is in Panama
and no helicopter can reach Cocos and
no plane can land. Steaming time back
to the mainland takes nearly 40 hours,
so emergencies must be handled onsite.
Large volumes of oxygen are available
for 100% delivery via oral/nasal masks.
Gilliam had worked out a protocol with
the crew to conduct in-water recompression.
One diver accidentally missed
some decompression when she misread her
computer. Gilliam had her back in the
water within minutes to follow a twenty
minute omitted deco procedure. He then
put her on four hours of surface oxygen
and had her sit out diving for 24
hours. She was fine, and the crew
seems to have an excellent grasp for
the procedures.
On the east side of Manuelita
Island, a small rocky key just off Chatham, I dropped in after sunset and was
treated to hundreds of white tips frantically hunting in our light beams. I stayed
3 feet above the bottom to avoid the sharks' bumps and bites. During the next
three days I saw mantas, eagle rays, tuna, sailfish, turtles that followed me like
pets, and great schools of jack and Creole fish anywhere. Visibility ranged from
40 feet to 150 feet in some areas. No one skipped a single dive. Night dives were
scheduled every other night, weather permitting.
On our last day, Mario took us to a cleaning station he had named Silverado.
This rocky ledge is perched in only 30 feet of water surrounded by a white sandy
bottom. I could approach within a few feet of female silvertips nearly 10 feet
long and probably weighing more than 400 pounds, who were being cleaned of parasites
by barber fish. Nearby is a slightly deeper area where snake eels and red
lipped batfish can be easily filmed.
My group consisted of 16 men and four women, and I was assigned a double
cabin with a female roommate. I was pleasantly surprised to find how well the
group meshed. I've had a few less than perfect trips where women were either
treated as oddities or sex objects, but this group respected and welcomed us into
their fraternity. Most were veterans of multiple trips with Fathoms, and I fully
expect that I'll be among them again.
-- V.I.
Diver's Compass: These waters are no place to be if you fudged
your diving resume. ... This special Malpelo/Cocos itinerary is
only offered a few times each year. ... Fathoms charters the Sea
Hunter every year, usually for a month, and does back-to-back voyages.
... Book through www.fathomspub.com or call 888-778-9073.
... Gilliam requires a minimum of 100 logged dives and experience
in currents and live-aboard diving. ... My trip cost $4,200 for 12
days and included the diving, meals, transportation to and from
San Jose to Puntarenas, Nitrox fills, carbon dioxide scrubber for my rebreather, and
a double occupancy stateroom. It also included full TDI instruction and certification
on the Draeger Dolphin rebreather if I had needed it. Fathoms supplies a rebreather
as part of the package price. ... For reservations on the Sea Hunter, e-mail
info@underseahunter.com or call 800-203-2120. ... The Sea Hunter rents Draeger Dolphin semi-closed circuit rebreathers to divers certified on those units. The cost
is around $600/week with Nitrox fills and CO2 absorbents. The dive staff offers TCI
training and certification for these SCRs for roughly $500. ... Upon arrival at San
Jose airport, I made my own way to the downtown Holiday Inn; next morning a 20-passenger,
air-conditioned bus picked the group up for the two-hour ride to Puntarenas.
... Proof of citizenship (passports preferred) is required for entry to Costa Rica.
... Customs and immigration are perfunctory and efficient. ... Most airlines allow
two checked bags (50-70 pounds depending on the carrier) and one carry-on piece in
addition to a personal handbag or briefcase. ... Costa Rica is a beautiful country,
and most of us visited the volcano region and the Monteverde rain forest. ... San
Jose is worth a night for bar hopping, dining, or shopping. But it does have some
petty crime problems, and women should probably not be unescorted after dark.