Hungry Like the (Quiroz) Wolfs: November 2016

Diving with hammerheads. This one has been on my Bucket List for quite a few years now. Lucky for me that my brother Rob has gotten into diving. And not only that but he got his advanced certification and invested in a special underwater photography equipment too. (My brother’s tagline should be, “Go big or go home.”)

Back in the spring, I had sent Rob a text, “Interested in diving with hammerheads this year?”

His text response, “Yeah!”

Me, “You mean, yeah like that sounds like fun? Or yeah, like let’s do it?”

Rob, “Let’s do it!”

I follow this up with a call, “Just checking to make sure you’re serious before I do a bunch of research.”

And turns out Rob is serious. I tell you – you don’t mess around with my brother. His word is as good as gold.

So about three hours of internet researching later, I lay out the options for Rob with another text,

“Cocos off Costa Rica, Galapagos, Red Sea, Egypt, and Liang, Liang Malaysia?”

Immediate text back, “Galapagos!”

Another couple hours later, I send him some dates, a few links with boat options and then Boom – that Monday, we send in our deposits, and voila! We are booked for the Galapagos.

Never mind that I had seen the fine print (which actually was in big bold letters at the top of the dive description), “This is for very advanced and experienced divers only. The Galapagos especially is very extreme – the currents are very strong, the water is very cold, and the terrain is very rocky. If you are not already very experienced with this type of diving, please do not dive here. You could die.”

I push this to the back of my mind until my brother sends me a text, “We should probably go over the dive pack list together.” Oh right. We are leaving in a week. On the phone, my brother immediately picks up on my hacking and throaty wheezing and says, “You sick?” I mumble, “Yeah, a little cold or something I picked up” (trying to forget that I had spent the past 3-day weekend in the fetal position aching with chills and the fever). My brother, being the very caring guy he is says, “Well, you have 5 days to get over it. Did you get your Nitrox certification?” Me, “What’s that?” Rob, “You need it if you want to do all the dives.” Me, thinking to myself, “Add that to an already packed to-do list.” We read through the dive prep list together, “Diving in the Galápagos is advanced due to strong currents, varying visibility and cold water. Divers must be comfortable in these conditions, as well as have very good buoyancy and be able to do negative rapid back-roll entries/descents from small boats.” Me, “What’s a negative entry?” Rob, “Not sure.” We keep reading, “Requirements include at least 100 open water dives, experience in currents, ability in removing gear in water and ability in getting into small boats in choppy seas.” Me, “Have you ever had to deal with choppy seas?” Rob, “Ugh, no…” We keep reading, “Divers must be experienced in the use of a dive computer to keep track of their non-decompression time. We also highly recommend a back-up dive computer” Me, “Do you have a dive computer?” Rob, “I can get you one.” Me, “And then you can teach me how to use it?” We keep reading, “The following pieces of surface safety devices are required for each diver entering the water: 1) Safety Sausage/SMB/Surface Marker, 2) Dive Alert or similar audible surface signaling device, 3) Nautilus Lifeline electronic surface tracking device.” Me, “What are these things?” Rob, “Dunno.”

We struggle through the list and Rob thankfully procures everything we need. I pack a few swimsuits, t-shirts, and shorts in a bag and take my flight to meet him in Quito.

We check into our hotel in downtown Quito, meander the plaza and clean streets, and binge in a hole in the wall restaurant. We order way too much food and stuff ourselves full of plantains, beans, rice and donuts (pretty sure this wasn’t vegan). We then enjoy a few drinks (me still nursing my cold/flu with orange juice, cough drops, and Sudafed).

Lots of the photos below (and definitely all the underwater shots) are from Rob's fancy cameras - you'll see his logo on the bottom left. The photos are mixed and not in perfect order and the writing is a bit off since I didn't think about the sequencing of photos. Good thing I am not a perfectionist :)

Here is me with my wanna-be cheerleader move. It has probably been 15 years since I did one of these – I think I might have pulled my groin.

Looks like ice cream, but according to Rob - it's not. Like marshmallow. Yum.

We fly out from Quito to Guayaquil to San Cristobal where we are greeted by our friendly dive master Max. We’ve also got ten other divers hailing from Denmark, Switzerland, Ottawa, China, and Gernsei (apparently an independent tiny island country off the coast of the UK by the Channel Islands). And immediately, we are off to the boat to set-up for our check-out dive. Now, it has been maybe 2-3 years since my last dive, so thank goodness for a chance to practice back rolling off the panga (the small boat) and also how to cough (not to mention barf) into my regulator (I pity the poor person who has to use my gear after me).

The next day, we kick off the morning with a Safety Briefing. Jeffrey, our other dive master, passes out the safety gear. I think to myself, “Oh, this is that stuff they had listed earlier – the dive alert, lifeline, and safety sausage.” And Jeffery doesn’t just pass it out, he explains very thoroughly how to use each one. “If you do not do perfect backrolls off the panga, you will very likely get carried out by the current. And when that happens, you will be on your way to Cocos in Costa Rica. And you will need this to be able to get your SOS out.” I get ready to laugh, “Ha, that’s so dramatic! He doesn’t really mean it.” But then there is no laughter. Just crickets. And the rest of the gang has the brows furrowed busy practicing how to inflate their sausage and use their walkie talkies.” Oh man, he means business. Now I have more to worry about than nursing my flu and worrying if I’ll be able to clear my ears. There’s the backroll. And the crazy cold water. And the crazy strong currents. And oh right – the barfing.

Ah, barfing under water. I remember the first time like it was yesterday – fifteen years ago in Guam when I was down sixty feet in the water and felt very, very queasy. And then boom! Barf everywhere. Thank goodness I didn’t take my regulator out and inhaled in air (and some chunks – yuck!). So now fifteen years later and with a consistent rate of 99% likelihood of barfing on each dive, I have become quite the expert at barfing under water. As in – get in water, feel queasy for ten minutes, hurl, see lots of chunks floating in the water as the fish gather around me to feast (yet another perk!), and twiddle my fingers casually as if nothing happened. In fact, I have gotten so good at it, that except for the chunks remaining in my reg, the people I’m diving with have no idea. Put that one on my resume!

We start with Pinzon, and I am so grateful to be able to clear my ears that the barfing doesn’t even phase me. I am mesmerized when a sea lion comes acrobating (is that even a word?) and twirling towards me face that I just hover there gaping at it. Then I remember our dive master telling us, “Make sure to play with the sea lions or else they will just get bored and leave.” But too late, my sitting self doesn’t entertain our little sea lion, and he dashes away for more interesting adventures. We also see sea turtles, a red lipped bat fish (it really has these crazy red lips!), a small horned shark, and porcupine fish. Of course I am not writing any of these things down when we come up to surface so I am stealing all this knowledge from my brother who has dutifully taken notes throughout the entire trip.

Second dive at Cousin’s Rock. I take off a weight and struggle to swim down. Thank goodness for Jeffrey our dive master who grabs my hand and hauls me down. Lots of current and bad visibility. BUT we get a bad ass school of barracuda – woohoo! We decide to bail on the third dive to get an early start to Wolf. Fine by me! Hurling down in the water is never fun…

Next day we are at Wolf. And we find out that we have not just three dives but four (to make up for the missed dive from yesterday). Adding to the worry list is now my ability to swim down so I am maniacally emptying out my BCD for any bits of air and following Max, our dive master’s advice, to “suck it out.” And so I am sucking out the air as we are heading out on the panga to the dive sites – Land Slide and Shark Bay. There is no hesitation in diving as Max calls out, “Divers get ready. One, two, three…” Back roll out and boom – we are in the water and I am swimming down, down… relief. My ears clear. Life is good. And then it gets even better. We’re talking school of barracuda. Hammerheads. Schools of hammerheads. Moray eels out and about. Creatures everywhere (yes, I am vague with the “creatures” – I barely passed the animal identification module). AND this is the best part – I don’t barf. I have found the secret. And it is encapsulated in a little pill of Dramamine. If this was my last day of diving, I would be good. Life is really, really good J

But the awesome diving keeps coming. And thank goodness I am not barfing, I can clear my ears, I can back roll, I can dive down, I have learned to watch for sea urchins and moray eels which are everywhere!, I have learned to stay on the heels of our dive master especially when the visibility is only ten feet, I have learned to cling on to rocks for dear life due to the rough current. Because we are now at Darwin’s Arch – which is No. Joke. Now we are on the panga, and the waves are crashing around us. Our Gernsei buddy has stayed back on the boat, the waves are that bad, he told us, “I was afraid I would hurt my back.” I am trying to distract myself from the massive waves that crash onto our little panga with the amazing dolphins dancing and jumping around us. The dive master reminds us, “Remember, negative entry. You need to go as fast as you can to dive down. Or the current will rip you away. So you want to get closer to the rocks for some protection from the current. But not too close that you’ll get swept up and slam against the rocks.” And before my mind can process what the heck he just said, he continues, “Divers ready. One, two, three, go!” And we roll back, and I frantically swim down keeping an eye out for the dive master. I kick, kick, kick but am not going down. The waves are pulling me up, and I am fighting against the current. I frantically kick harder and thank goodness, I start to inch down, down, and get close to a rock and flail at it, flail at it – and relief, I grab the rock and hold on for dear life. I look up and there is Rob and there is the dive master. No one else from the group is around us. Jeffrey, our dive master, gestures for us to wait. Which I am happy to do as the current continues to whip around us. After a few minutes, Jeffrey comes back. He has found the rest of the group. And now we are cruising down – or more like crawling our way down, rock by rock. Because the current continues to be strong. We see more hammerheads, morays, rays, and a bunch of other stuff that my awesome brother thankfully wrote down later. My buoyancy is off, and I am bouncing around – later my brother will kindly give me the feedback, “You need to work on your buoyancy. Or else they’re not going to let you dive anymore.” And yes, I have become That. Girl. Not the cool girl with the red sunglasses and the polka dot bikini. I am that girl that the dive master insists sits next to him on the panga. Sees me struggling to swerve in and out of the rocks. Tsks me as I grip the rock when I’m not supposed to (apparently, it is the hammock style of current which you’re supposed to trust will whip you left to right, left to right and not going to whip you into a bunch of rocks or coral). Holds my hand. Helps me with the safety stop (pre-Rob advice to work on buoyancy). But holding the dive masters hand, I don’t care. I’m just happy to be safe and sound. Diving is No. Joke. And then in the Galapagos, it is double No. Joke.

So who are these peeps who go to the Galapagos anyway? We’re talking about people who don’t just dive once per year, but we’re talking people with their own boats or houses on the river and who dive every other weekend. Some of them are even dive masters. And when they dive on vacation, we’re talking liveaboard for at least a week with three to five dives per day. Just about everybody had dove in Indonesia, Iceland, and the Maldives. As we listened to their adventures, Rob and I kept adding to our Bucket List – cave and crab diving in Sardinia, manta and black night dive on the Big Island of Hawaii, whale sharks in Malapascua, Philippines, orcas in Norway, humpback whales in Socorro.

So why the Galapagos? During the dive briefings, I learned why this is one of the best dive spots on Earth. It is where the currents from South America and Central America from the east and the west and hot and cold, it is all a “washing machine” of lots of current and sea life that brings in the Big Dogs – and by dogs I mean the hammerheads, turtles, and whale sharks.

Now remember that on day two I had already seen the hammerheads, so I was as happy as a bump on a log and a log in the middle of the sea (or something like that). But boy did the Galapagos Bring. It. We’re talking big turtles, white tip/black tip sharks, red lipped bat fish, jelly fish (one stung me on the lip - yay), schools of Jackfish, schools of barracuda, schools of mobulas and rays and mantas (and even a flying mobula!), seals zipping around you and playing with your bubbles, dolphins jumping next to us, hammerheads, orcas eating a turtle, and even Mola Molas.

Good thing I got my good ol’ bro with his fancy schmancy camera. Thanks to Rob for these pics!

I'm the one with the sneakers, Rob and Vesna have the sandals, and our poor friend from Luxemborg has the fancy dress shoes - poor Nicole never got her luggage so she trooped around in the same pair of jeans and shoes the whole week. Good thing with diving all you need is a bathing suit!

Land excursion to hike the volcano and check out the lava tubes.

Another land excursion to see the Giant Tortoises.

Last stop at the National Park to learn about the history of the Galapagos and get a close-up of baby seals and even birds skinning a lizard real-time. Fun stuff!

Outside of the amazing wildlife, the service on this dive ship was The. Best. We’re talking a staff to guest ratio of 1:1, custom vegan meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, deck party under the stars, salsa dancing, performance with pipe music and two guitarists (our dive master and captain) in the background, chocolate turtles at your bedside turnaround service, open bar, and where all the staff know your name. And the service for diving – as my dad would say, “Hot dang!” We’re talking people to help you get on your suit, gloves, weight belt, a little bit of water in a glass right before you hop in, one person to check your air, another two to help you on the panga, another to help you don your fins, two watchful dive masters during the dive, a panga boat driver who appeared immediately when you surfaced to pull up your weight belt and tank, and once the panga arrived back at the ship, two people to help you onto the ship, another to give you fresh hot cocoa, another to help you pull off the wet gear, a hot shower, and another to hand you a freshly dried (and warm!) towel. Wow.

So if you ever dive the Galapagos, I highly recommend the Galapagos Sky.

Hungry Like the (Quiroz) Wolfs

Monday, November 28, 2016

Bryson and Scarlet's MKC School Photos

Scarlet 9 Month Check-Up

Silly Bryson-isms

Sunday, November 27, 2016

Videos: Galapagos Hammerheads, Schools of Fish, and Worms

Galapagos: Diving with Hammerheads