FURTHER ADVENTURES OF THE SIRENA
No we have not disappeared. Things around here have been rather normal, except for the weather. We have had an unusual spate of cloudy days and even several days of rain – just sprinkles except for one day. A few days of precipitation in the winter are not out of the ordinary but this year has had more than what we have come to expect. Nothing tragic. But the muse has not been inspired to write much. And she has not been painting much either. She has been able to squeeze in a few shopping trips. (See the picture of the new wall hanging that graces 'Daphne's' room.) She has been doing some group jigsaw puzzles. (Thanks Judy.) And she and several of the other ladies managed a trip to the drag show at the Luna Lounge. (Photos courtesy of Judy S.; thank you again!) So it has not been completely dull.
And we are surrounded by our second group of Canadians, now of the French variety from Quebec and Ottawa. They are friendly and likeable folks and we enjoy their company. Unfortunately our French skills are a bit rusty, if they much existed at all. But we are quite happy they are here and pleased to include them as nos bons amis.
Mrs. T continues to SCUBA dive every week if possible. R was not pleased one week when her trip was cancelled because the other folks arrived too inebriated to safely venture onto the boat as rightly decided by the captain. And although most of the diving has been anticlimactic since the encounter with the whale, each week still holds its adventures. So she decided to write about this week's dive to give a taste of what happens even during a 'routine' dive.
The poem preceding this installment was written shortly after the Jonah experience.
DIVING
Rebecca Sellers Terrible
I leave behind a world of light
Falling backwards into free
I seek the glory of the night.
In shaded depths of faded sight
Within the wonders of the sea
I leave behind the world of light.
In realms ruled by creatures of might
In fathoms floating heedlessly
I seek the glory of the night.
Small fishes luminescing bright
Through corals coursing endlessly
I leave behind the world of light.
In caverns of a wondrous height
Their denizens I dimly see,
I seek the glory of the night.
Where ever many stars are bright
Where never is a boundary
I leave behind a world of light,
I seek the glory of the night.
A bit about the poem. When we go diving I sit on the edge of the boat, hold my mask and regulator (the thing you breathe with) firmly to my face, give a little push, and fall backwards into another world. It is always a shock; the water feels cold at first in spite of our wetsuits. You move slowly with some effort. On the other hand you are weightless. And if you relax the water will often carry you where you want to go. If the water is surging back and forth – imitate the fish. Swim as they do when water is going your way, and then rest flat against the bottom or anchor on a rock while the water flows back. Often a fingertip is enough to hold you still. (I have to say the tips of my diving gloves are beginning to wear out.) I was surprised to discover that fish do not swim all the time. They spend a lot of time just hanging out and either lying on a rock or sand or floating in calm water.
The sounds under the water are magnified and distorted. To hear things clearly you need to stop breathing for a moment; the sound of your breath and your bubbles when you exhale overwhelm a lot of other sounds. One of my favorite things is listening to the whales sing. Their songs are a cross between a low pitched hum and an oink. Exactly what they are saying is open to dispute, but they are definitely discussing something. There are some common calls recognized as mothers talking to babies, distress calls and things like that. (Chow time? -dt) But most calls still are mysteries to us. They say whales also talk or sing at a frequency too low for humans to hear. The same thing is said about elephant communication. I wonder if an elephant stuck his trunk in the ocean if he could talk to the whales. Just a thought.
Underwater everything slows down at least for me. The sea creatures dart here and there easily. There is a lot less light underwater; perhaps that is why many of the fish and corals are so brightly colored. The deeper you dive of course there is less light. Many of the fish here are luminescent. One of my favorite is the blue damsel fish. It is dark blue with light blue shining spots.
Alex is my dive master. Yes I do realize that Lincoln freed the slaves, so perhaps I should clarify that Alex is the dive master I always dive with while staying in Bucerias. (If you do not remember Alex, there is another picture this month. –dt) Usually just the two of us dive together and are more or less dive buddies; we know and trust each other implicitly. Sometimes Alex has other divers as well as me and then it is business rather than just pleasure for him.
When you dive a lot with the same person it is amazing how well you can communicate with hand signals. (Perhaps you have seen TV programs where divers have microphones, but that is much too expensive equipment for the casual recreational diver. –dt) When Alex is leading a dive group it is sort of an underwater tour where he points out the sights and animals, etc. When it is just the two of us diving alone it is more of an exploration.
Alex is a fisherman. (And he makes more money taking people on fishing trips. –dt) Sometimes when diving with just me he takes his spear. I on the other hand like to collect shells. (Anyone want several boxes?? –dt) And of course there are octopi. Alex and his family love to eat octopus. I have had it and do not like it that much. So when there are just the two of us we will catch an octopus for Alex's supper. I actually almost never do the catching as they are too fast for me. But I can often spot them and point them out to Alex.
The other day we were swimming along when I saw a good-sized octopus swim by me. I turned after it and as soon as he knew he had been spotted he immediately dropped to the ocean floor and tucked in his tentacles pretending to be a rock. (To see the ability of octopi to hide, view this clip full screen: http://www.sciencefriday.com/videos/watch/10397 -dt) I caught Alex and made the octopus hand signal. Alex grabbed the creature and began shaking it vigorously. This is a thing Alex does to dispatch them: first you grab the octopus, then you shake it, then you squeeze it, then you pull out some part of its insides, and then it is dead. I don't know how to do this and I don't want to know. If Alex wants to eat octopi, he needs to kill them as far as I am concerned.
Well he had just about finished the shaking part when I spotted another octopus.
"Octopus!" I signaled.
"Yes, yes, I know." Alex nodded.
"No. Another octopus!" I poked Alex and pointed.
Alex, wanting both, thrust the present capture into my hands - shaken, not squeezed (HaHaHa -dt) – and swam off in pursuit of the second creature.
Well this first octopus was still very much alive and determined to escape. I was trying to hold onto as many arms or legs as possible. And it kept trying to elude me. In desperation I tried to trap it by pushing it against my tummy. This seemed to work fairly well until suddenly I realized there seemed to be a lot less octopus than there was a few moments previously. Grabbing the remaining part and staring down I determined that the octopus was attempting to climb under my buoyancy vest to hide between it and my wet suit.
A couple of pertinent facts need mentioning here. First is that octopi have no bones and can squeeze into very small spaces. Number two fact is that if you are wearing a 5mil wetsuit, you can't feel much of what is happening on the outside of it.
There commenced a tug-of-war with me trying to pull the creature out by three legs and the octopus trying to crawl under cover with the other five. Well of course it won. And squirting out an indignant cloud of ink pulled my vest closed behind it. Well, what could I do now? And more to the point, would it try to crawl out the back? I swam slowly in a circle and did not see it. I thought I might have felt a lump on my stomach. I still had an uninvited passenger. Then Alex arrived with the second octopus, already dead.
"Where is the octopus?" Alex signaled.
I pointed to my tummy. It is hard to believe how much amazement can register upon a face covered by a diving mask.
"You ate it raw?" Alex must have been thinking. He shook his head, "That's impossible! Where's the octopus?" he signaled again.
I pointed to my stomach again.
"Did it swim away?" Alex asked.
"No!" I tried to point under my vest.
Alex shrugged, "I don't get it."
After we had swum around for a while longer, I looked down and saw a couple of tentacles tentatively emerging from behind my vest. I poked Alex who finally grasped the situation – he also grasped the octopus. After a short struggle it was subdued and added to the dinner menu.
Sometimes it is easier to go to the minisuper.
Here are few pictures: http://www.flickr.com/photos/9151458@N07/sets/72157629088147118/
Nope, no underwater pictures. Mrs. T does not take them; she would rather watch the things around her than fool with a camera when she would mostly have pictures of empty water.
We will be back up north about Easter and hope to see many of you in April and May.
Dan and Rebecca
www.casa-de-terrible.blogspot.com
