What's for Supper? Maybe me!

Sharks look disarmingly languid as they move through the water. At least until they see something they want, or are made curious by some movement that is nearby.

In New York, when they talk about someone swimming with the fishes, its a rather permanent state of being, you know.

Playa del Coco sits on nearly the northern most point of the northern penninsula. It is far less developed than many of the beaches to it's south, Tamarindo having become one of the more developed enclaves of monied foreign nationals with it's white sands and gleaming high-rises.

Coco's sand is, well, coco-colored - making the place look a little dirty, like someone forgot to wash the beach. There is, of course, commercialization, (you can't have a beach without people figuring out how to cash in on it), but not nearly as much as some of the less-accessable and more highly-developed beaches on the penninsula. Coco is quickly becoming a haven for divers and sport's fisher-folk due to the wide variety of marine life so easily accessible around the spectacular islands that rise from the sea-bed. One of them, when seen from the shore, looks like a giant turtle, and is aptly named, Tortuga Island.

We boarded the public bus in San Jose. The price for a trip almost across the country was about $6.50. A nice big bus with fairly comfortable seats and an air-conditioning system that was operated manually -- by opening the windows. When we boarded the bus was about half full. But along the way more and more people kept getting on, until there was a cue of bodies down the entire center aisle of the bus. Finally, I could not help myself and offered a seat to one of the young women, who, taking me up on the offer, sat down, and immediately went to sleep. As it happened, I only had to stand for about thirty or forty minutes before a seat was made available by someone getting off the bus, and I was able to ride the rest of the way with my friends, Kelsey and Aaron.

Kelsey is a junior at Baylor University, studying to be a teacher. An remarkable young woman who has, at one time, spent six weeks in Morocco on a mission trip. Her goal in teaching is to work with inner-city or other youth who might otherwise be shunted aside due to the many wounds that poverty inflicts. She's here immersing herself in spanish so she can be more effective at her job. Quite a bright light.

Aaron is fifteen and a sophomore in Boise, Idaho. His mother was with him for a week of spanish classes, until she felt safe leaving him alone in a foreign country to do two more weeks of immersion. Little did she know we would whisk him half-way across the country for a weekend at the beach. I think he cleared it with her by email before we left. At least he said he had.

When I told them what I was planning to do for the weekend, both decided that it might be fun to spend the weekend on the beach, and so we booked some rooms, bought our tickets, and began our adventure.

The place we found to stay is called Laura's House. It is an eight-room bed and breakfast (cost: $40 per night for a double) with a staff that is very accomodating. As a matter-of-fact, when they discovered that we were studying spanish, they went out of their way to keep us in practice, even though the proprieter could speak English very well. When I would start to say something, she would say, "In espanol, por favor."

The place had a nice pool, real air-condtioning, breakfast and wi-fi included, and perhaps the best shower I have experienced in two times in Costa Rica. And you needed the showers because the fine, brown sand coats everything it touches and you can't walk three feet in the dense air without prespiring through everything in which you are dressed.

Aaron and Kelsey were there just to hang out and breathe in the local air. My main goal, however, was, perhaps, a little more ambitious.

I booked a three-tank boat dive for Saturday, beginning at 7:30 a.m. I got up as quietly as I could so as not to disturb Aaron, who was so sound asleep that I could probably been a brass band in full throat and not have disturbed him, and headed for the dive shop.

There I met a young man from Canada who is working on his instructors credentials and so has committed to working at the shop for free for three months, getting his dives in and helping with the dives for the those just doing exploration dives (no certification necessary and just brief instruction landward before being taken out by a master diver and assistant). Another young man, Owen, was from Boston. The owner, whom I met later, was a tall woman from Germany. I think most of the businesses in Coco seem to be owned by foreign nationals, and operated by a conglomeration of Ticos and others who may or may not be there for very long.

I was told before the dive that the waters would not be clear and blue like those I had experienced in Cozumel or Boca Chica, but that we were likely to see a large variety of marine life, including star fish, eagle wrays, barracuda, shark, lobster, tortuga (turtles), etc.

I was not disappointed.

The beginning of the dive was a little rough given the fact that I hadn't done it for more than a year, and was a bit rusty on the procedures, coupled with being very excited. So it took me a little while to settle my breathing and relax. But once down around 25 meters, it all came back to me, and Miguel, my dive-master, and I, just explored the waters of Coco. There was another group with us on the boat, but they were taken separately on their dive because none were certified and were, therefore, much more limited in where they could go.

Almost immediately Miguel began pointing to our left, and when I turned was greeted by the sleekly-moving form of a white-tipped shark, amblling along paying us no attention whatsoever. It made me a little nervous to turn my back on it as it slid past. Within seconds it had circled round and was having another pass, this time about five yards closer. Miquel, in the meantime, was trying to show me a rockfish that had half-buried itself in the sand. I decided if he wasn't worried, I needn't be. I guess we must not have looked as appetizing as I thought I did, and the toothy preditor ambled up a slope in search of more succulent 'comida' (food).

We saw so many different kinds of fish, and other marine life. The colorful coral was not as prominent, nor the different kinds of coral I had experienced on Planchar Reef, but it was none-the-less spectacular. Before long I checked my meter and noticed that it was time to head for the boat. We did, and took an hour, eating fresh pinapple and drinking lots of water, before motoring to another island and heading down for the second dive.

This time we saw a small eagle wray gliding along with a trumpet fish sitting like a second spine along it's back, lots more rock fish, starfish, sea horses, etc. and then, coming up over a mound of coral, three rather large white tips lounging on the bottom. By the time we saw them we were less than five feet from them. We just kept still and watched them as one and then another foraged out for a little ways and then swam back. Again, they paid no more attention to us than as if we were rocks or some very uninteresting form of sea life. It was amazing to be that close. One was small, about two meters. The others were about three to five meters each.

At one point, later in the dive, we came upon what appeared to be a wall of stone about three meters in front of us, and stretching to about four meters up from the sea-bed. It wasn't a wall at all, but a school of fish - hundreds of them, who never even moved until I reached out to touch one, and then, as one, sailed like a flock of birds around us and out of reach. I thought of that scene in 'Finding Nemo' when the school of fish, who were like Dora, formed an arrow pointing them toward Austrailia.

The third dive produced for us a very fat, very slow-swimming tortuga with whom we wandered for several minutes, and, again, two or three white-tips. Since we did each dive in a different location, several miles apart from each other, the scenery was always different. For instance, this one sported a wreck and when we floated over the open holds, we could see hundreds of fish, a different type in each of the six holds. I wanted to swim down in, but that would have to wait for another time.

The dives have only served to whet my appetite for more. Before I leave here I hope to do some in the clearer waters to the south, or at the spectacular reefs to the far north. Whether or not I get the chance, I have at least experienced what I had hoped, but still will probably not be satisfied until I can do more.

Havng Kelsey and Aaron share the weekend was a real blessing. I never mind being by myself, but it's always more fun when you have others with whom to share. Some of my best times when I was here before were those shared with Steven Battle and his family, and with Ancilla and Pablo and Alex at Tortugero.

Kelsey and I plan to do a few more trips before Kelsey leaves, including perhaps, a twenty mile hike to the festival of Santa Maria in Cartago. This festival will have more than a million people crammed into this tiny village around the spectacular little basillica, to celebrate the Miracle of the Virgin. The roads between Nicaraqua and Cartago will be closed to traffic to accomodate the pilgrims WALKING all the way from Nicaragua to Cartago. We figure if they can do that, we can make the twenty miles on foot.

We will see!

That's enough for now.

The rain has stopped and I really should get to the homework for tomorrow.

Via con Dios, mis amigos. Go with God.

One who 'swam with the fishes' and lived to tell about it.