Mexican Dogs, Sharks, and Dirt Bikes
I’ve been trying to get to Mexico for years. Somehow it just never happened. I think because its so close and so available that I have been saving it for later, there has also always been this sense that its either for relaxation or partying, neither of which has ever appealed to me. The initial plan was to go to Cozumel Island on the east side of Mexico for its famous diving, but after some research, Cabo ended up being easier access, similar pricing, and had higher likelihood of seeing sharks while diving.
What had started as a solo trip was smiled on by good fortune. I had been able to talk Natalie and her boyfriend Cole into joining me. We all arrived in Cabo within an hour of each other, and Cole had some distant, vague, family member who kept a truck in Cabo. Expecting an old dusty Toyota, I was quite shocked to find we were being lent a brand-new-top-of-the-line hybrid F150. This seemed a way better idea than taking a bus or taxi. They delivered me to my luxurious two star hotel and took themselves to their rental condo. My hotel was clean, but dated and rough. Lots of cracked tiles, sagging ceiling, and throughout the time I was there, I saw a lot of little beetles and bugs. I realized, my step-brother may be right about my willingness to sleep anywhere when I absent mindedly slapped a cockroach-looking bug off my pillow, and laid down to relax without so much as a flinch or pause for concern. Maybe next time I should splurge for that 3rd star.
In the morning they picked me up and we went to a dog rescue to do a hike. It was near the marina and a very eccentric man led a big group of tourists and his many dogs on a hike that was more climbing than walking. We ended up just above the famous Cabo Arch. Along the way the guide would occasionally stop and tell the large group his philosophy on reality and physics. At one point he mentioned the vibration of the earth and the universe impacting your brain waves… and something about special breathing techniques to unlock higher understanding. Now, dont get me wrong, I enjoy a good cult as much as the next guy, but you have to start with peace and love…then work into brainwaves. Biology lessons aside, it was a great hike and the dogs were super friendly.
After the hike we stopped into the dive shop and solidified our plans, I was booked in for four days of diving and had brought cash to pay. We clarified the schedule and the bill, I was told $850cad, however the next morning when I came in, they ran the numbers again and it was $780. I was happy to not question it. Lunch was at a restaurant called Asi y Asado, it turns out it had be featured on Guy Fieri’s show. The food was pretty good, afterward we went to Costco and stocked up on snacks and bottled water… and I just realized I am yet to pay Cole back for that case of water… lets hope he also forgot. Two of Natalie’s friends arrived that evening, Sarah and Koda, they were sharing a room just below me in the hotel and it was a bit rougher than mine, largely due to the obvious mold on the bathroom ceiling.
When diving, its typical to have one outing, either morning or afternoon, that consists of two dives, with one tank used per dive. My first outing I was in for a bit of a surprise. For fear of my stomach, I skipped breakfast and got there early to get organized and avoid stress and rushing. I had also emailed in advance to ask if I could be put on a boat with a bathroom. Though, technically, the boat did have a toilet, they waited until we were out on the water before informing everyone on the boat, that it was “light duty” and for “number 1 only”… I think there was a miscommunication in my emails. My stomach didn’t feel great but I survived the first dive without incident. I was partnered with a very experienced diver from the US and was relieved to find I wasn’t using too much more air than my companions. This fear stems from my time in Thailand were I was on the mend from Pneumonia and was sucking through air much faster than anyone else on the dives. The dive itself wasn’t anything too wild, highlight being a Guitar fish, which I had never seen before.
While on surface between dives, my stomach began to boil a little. I mentioned to the guide that my stomach was a bit upset, he replied with “oh no, you might puke?” “no, other end”. He without much concern, said something along the lines of “well, if you go in the ocean, thats totally fine” which was weirdly reassuring. Luckily it didnt come to that. The second dive of the day was much clearer visibility at a place called Land’s End, which is just off the tip where the Cabo Arch is. Under the surface, I had a great view of the wreckage of an old ship. I was told it had been down there since the 40’s. At this point it was mostly scrap metal scattered along the bottom, but still an interesting experience.
The afternoon was spent at the beach with the girls while Cole took his open water diving course. Lunch was tacos and in the evening we played card games at the rental condo.
Day two of diving was with Natalie and Sarah, this was the first time I had ever gotten the opportunity to dive with friends. Its no surprise that it was a much better experience, I’m a friendly guy and will chat with strangers, but you just have better conversations and more jokes with friends. On our way to the first dive site we got a very close look at some whales which was amazing. Both dives had good visibility and we saw schools of small rays both times.
Dinner that evening was at another Guy Fieri restaurant, this time it was Solomons, a higher end establishment. I had a Caesar salad that was prepared from scratch at the side of the table. The table next to us had Mexican coffee which got lit on fire and transferred back and forth between cups resulting in quite a light show.
Day three the dive shop was able to shuffle some things and have Cole, Natalie, Sarah, and myself all dive together. We went to the same places as I had on day one, this time we saw an eel out in the open, multiple octopuses, puffer fish, and Cole officially finished his training. At the end of the second dive, the current was strong on the surface, so we had to grab a line on the side of the boat and get towed away from the jagged rocks before boarding. It wasn’t far or fast, but it was an interesting experience. That evening we stayed in at the rental again, I retired early in the evening as I had a big day ahead of me. That was also the last I would see of Cole, Natalie, and Sarah as they were all leaving the morning. Sarah was headed home, and Natalie and Cole were headed north.
Day four was the big day. I got to the dive shop early and was given, along with two others, a ride to a partner dive shop about half an hours drive away. We got our gear sorted and loaded into the boat. We were introduced to our guide, the captain, and the first mate… a dog. He was introduced as an emotional support dog and a lookout, we were told if he starts barking to start looking around for wildlife, especially whales. No one is sure how he does it, some suggested he could hear them, other think smell, I don’t think its for us to know. Skeptical as I was, once we got out of the marina, the dog barked, and sure enough, a few whales just off the bow.
We got to the first dive site, Gordo 2, and were walked through the plan. It was a deep water, blue water dive. This meant, we would be going down deeper than standard recreational diving (in this case a maximum of 40m). We were instructed to stay behind and above the guide for safety, we were hoping to see scalloped hammerhead sharks and that if we encounter a group, its likely that one or two will come circle us and see. The understanding is they will be looking if we are large enough to be their predators or small enough to be their food. Luckily, we are about the size of a hammerhead so we would be fine. However, if they get too close for comfort, we were told just go vertical which will make us look bigger and they will likely go away. The boat dog cuddled me the entire time this was being explained to us.
We descended down to just below 30m and let the current carry us, we couldn’t see bottom and had no landmarks for reference so the guide followed his compass. The guide also kept a buoy above so the boat could track us. Shortly after we got to depth, the guide pointed to the left and there it was, a school of hammerheads. A few larger ones came our way and had a look, then rejoined the group. In the excitement, I started filming but got tunnel vision, and didn’t realize I was starting to sink. I took a look around and couldn’t find my companions, there were a few seconds of concern until my guide reached down, grabbed my BCD, blipped some air into it and pointed both fingers at his eyes, the universal signal for pay attention. Lesson learned. All in all, the closest the sharks got to me was maybe 10 or 15 feet, likely further, its hard to have a sense of distance or scale. We surfaced and rested on the boat, I apologized to the guide, he didn’t seem too worried about it and said it happens all the time.
The second dive was at Gordo 1, same setup, rules, and safety. The only difference being that we could see the bottom here, but it was at 60m, so we weren’t allowed to go down to it. Not going down to the bottom sounds easy, but the habit is to swim a few feet off the bottom so you really have to fight your instincts. We made our way down to depth and didn’t see anything too exciting, just a few small fish here and there. I noticed I was starting to get close to half my air (1500psi) and knew I needed to notify the guide, but he was a little far and I couldn’t get his attention with waving. By the time I did, I was at 900psi. We started to ascend to end the dive, he called me over and handed me his secondary air source. I wasn’t about to argue with him, but it did strike me as strange since I still had air, I took his and we slowly went up. During our ascent, a sealion started circling us and darting between. It was an amazing show, but also quite odd considering we were 8 miles from land. We hit our 3 minute safety stop at 5 meters and I was signaled to go back onto my own air source. Once back on the boat, I apologized again, and explained myself. The guide, ever the professional, didn’t seem to think much of the incident, just reiterated that I really needed to tell him sooner. I asked how much danger I was in with that little air, he said “none, I would have just shot up a second buoy and the captain would have sent a second tank and regular down on a rope”. Looking back on it, I think I may also have had a bit of nitrogen narcosis as I remember being a bit confused, and when he initially went to share air with me I thought we were at the 5m safety stop, in reality, we were at 32m. Its also entirely possible I just made an error and my pride wants an excuse. I made sure to tip that guide a little extra for saving me… and/or putting up with me.
Once back on land and back to the original dive shop. I had lunch with my diving partners for the day and Koda. Afterward Koda and I went back to the beach, had an early supper, then turned in early as she was flying out the next day.
Koda’s last day we went to the local museum, it had the spirit but was a little underfunded and underwhelming. She caught a ride to the airport and I went to a bar that sold mojitos and cigars, and enjoyed one of each. The following day I moved from my hotel to a resort and immediately regretted it. It felt fake, isolated, and sterile. I want some grit on my vacations. I want people to wonder how I do it, not how I afford it… thought this resort was pretty cheap so there’s no mystery there.
My last big activity of the trip was a good one. A man in a dusty Toyota truck pulled into the resort to retrieve me, he had a passenger with him and both had a “hell yea” attitude. It was a comical juxtaposition with the continuously swept tile of the foyer. While we made our way to the clubhouse, traffic was terrible, the driver looked at me and said “hold on, I have an idea” and cut off the road, down some gravel to an open sandy expanse. He drove his truck cross country for a few minutes explaining that he had a lease on all that land so its fine.
We got to the clubhouse and I was kitted with all manner of protective gear except for riding boots, I had to provide my own on account of my size 14 feet. I was paired with a young guide, who definitely weighed less than his 450cc dirt bike. I was given a newer version of the same bike, a honda , and told to follow the guide. We made our way across the sandy field we came in on, then onto sandy roads, then gravel, then rough pavement, then back and forth through all manner of road, track, and trail. We stopped occasionally to take in the view, drink some water, or step behind a cactus. Ripping on a dirt bike around Baja was just one of those things like hiking in the Himalayas that feels weird to say out loud, I just know that’s someone’s life goal and I did it casually on a two week trip.. go do stuff people, its easier than you think.
The half way point of our trip was at an ocean front restaurant. I ordered three tacos, a coke, and pet the local dogs while I waited for the food to come out. It was delicious, tacos in Mexico and a cold soda after driving in the heat, it was almost a religious experience. We climbed back onto our bikes and headed back along a slightly different route, this one took us more along the side of the ocean. While riding, the guide pulled over abruptly and excitedly pointed at some whales. If memory serves, that was the 5th group I had seen on this trip, starting to look like an infestation at this point (this is a joke, protect the whales). We made our way back, this time much faster across the sand now that I had some time to find my groove on it. Riding in sand is an odd experience, its sort of like driving on ice where you have limited control or traction. It differs wildly from ice in that you are always in a bit of a floating sway, like a vaguely controlled hydroplane. Speed is your friend, you want to glide across it, and that feels very unnatural.
After the bike was back safely and parked, the guide offered me a beer, it was my favorite brand… free. Post-beer, I was given a ride back to the resort. I must have looked quite the sight, covered in dust, carrying my boots through the clean building on the way to my room. It was good feeling.
Technical
I want to get out ahead of the scuba incident. I got a great photo of him and I while I was using his secondary air. He politely asked me not to post it on social media because a lot of internet “experts” will have a lot of criticism about it. I screwed up by not banging something against my tank to get his attention, and he rectified the situation easily. Despite what I will tell ladies on dates, I wasn’t actually in any danger at any point. In fact, the most dangerous part of running out of air on a shark dive was the sea lion… apparently they have a sense of humor and have been known to nibble fins and hoses, but rarely do divers actually get nipped. After the dive I asked about the air share when I still had air left, he said it was better to not exhaust your own air completely before sharing just in case there’s an emergency and you need to split up again. This explains why he signaled me back onto my own air once we were at the safety stop, at that point I could just surface if I ran out.
Also, I went through all this deep water dive for a chance to see hammerheads, which I did… but Cole saw one while taking his course just outside the marina in 18m of water. So, no dive is a bad dive and you never know what you’ll see.
The bike I used was a Honda CRF450 with some modifications and I just stuffed my own boots into my checked luggage, they took up a lot of space but I didn’t bring a lot of much else. I brought my duffel bag instead of my usual backpack which felt very weird, but I was glad to have it. The extra room ended up being for souvenirs, cookies, a t-shirt, and koda gave me a cheap towel she bought for the beach.
My parents bought me a Casio G shock model DW-9052 just before this trip so I kept sending them photos of it in questionable places. Not surprisingly, its a great travel watch, has all the features I want, not too expensive, not too flashy, and can handle abuse… Probably why NATO uses them.
Lastly, this was a fun trip to explain to my travel insurance provider…
Posted in Dirt Bikes, Hiking, Motorcycle, Photo Drop, Scuba Diving, Travel and tagged adventure, Cabo, Hammerhead, hiking, Mexico, motorcycle, Outdoors, Scuba diving, Sharks, travelwith 1 comment.
Thailand Notes Part 4: A Resort And An Ending
For the remainder of my trip, I wanted sun, beaches, and relaxation. So I picked a small island and booked a scuba resort.
Koh Tao Island
The process of getting from Chiang Mai to my hotel on Koh Tao Island was quite a long-drawn-out event. Here’s the short version. I caught a plane to a city who’s name I dont recall, and had to deal with taxi drivers and tourists arguing over the cost of transportation… again. I will never understand why a tourist will argue with a taxi driver over $2cad. Spent the night at a hotel, then took a taxi to a bus to a boat to another boat and spent a lot of time baking in the sun between. At some point someone stuck a sticker on my shirt that showed my final destination. It made me wonder how many tourists they’d lost before they came up with that idea. Once again I was alone, heading out to somewhere I had never been surrounded people I don’t know. Luckily Thailand is visually more inviting than Nepal and I arrived at my destination during the day. They also had someone from the hotel pick me up at the dock. I had booked my stay at Ban’s Diving Resort, thinking, to hell with it, I’ll spend the last of my money at some beachside motel and relax. Well, I thought it was a little hotel claiming to be resort, a common exaggeration when you budget travel, but this was, by far, the nicest place I had ever stayed. They had multiple pools, a dozen buildings to house guests, a landscaped garden between, and even a golf cart that worked like public transit. I signed in and signed up for a scuba refresher in the morning, I had my license, but I was rusty. After food I went to bed, sunbaked, desperate for sleep, and thankful I had paid extra for AC.
The refresher was fairly uneventful. I was tossed into a pool with another diver and an instructor and retested on the basics. It didn’t take much for me to get back into the groove. However, I was a little suspicious of the other diver with me. He claimed to have done over 100 dives and to have his advanced open water. His skills in the pool and general lack of knowledge shed some doubt on that. It crossed my mind that no one actually asked to see my certification, and therefore, one could easily lie and just go diving. It strikes me as needlessly dangerous for yourself and those around you but, it could be done. I believe this was the case with that individual but it wasn’t for me to say. After class, I got talked into an afternoon excursion and the dive master was the instructor who gave me the refresher, so it all worked out well. The first dive I was plenty nervous but it was fairly uneventful. It was exciting enough I decided to ignore my budget and take my advanced open water course. The following days dives were a little more exciting. I dove with a French man who was rather rude and pushy underwater, swimming too close to me and to wildlife. He got within inches of a turtle and bluff charged by trigger fish, shame they didn’t nibble him a bit, pain may have taught him a lesson. In the evening I went for a long walk up and down the beach. It was beautiful, but it was lonely. It’s a strange feeling to be lonely in a place many consider to be paradise. I had once read that resort towns, like the big ski towns in The Rockies, have a really high suicide rate because people move there and find it doesn’t solve their problems.
Getting my advanced open water was a lot easier than I had expected. I assumed there would be some course work, maybe some theory, or a test. We just did specific dives. Basically there is a list of dives and you pick 5 of them, that’s the class. In this case, the instructors picked based on what was available to us and what they felt would be the most fun, which is a fair way to operate. We started with a deep-water dive, we went down to 28m and played a math game to check for nitrogen narcosis. A condition I am told will cause a sensation similar to being intoxicated and impact motor skills and brain function. The test was: the instructor holds up fingers and we hold up however many we needed to add to get to 11. For example, she holds up 6, so I hold up 5. It’s a smart test, though somewhat revealing of how bad some of us are at mental math. We were only that deep for about 4 minutes, then slowly worked our way up and took in the sights. Interesting side note, at that depth we hit the thermocline, that razor sharp edge where water gets very cold, if you’ve ever jumped into an Alberta lake you may know what I am talking about. Our next dive was supposed to be a “fish identification” dive where in we practiced hand signals for different species of fish. Once we got down to depth, we saw that the ocean was littered with plastic bottles, one of the instructors went up and got a large mesh duffel while the other got us all stacking the bottles into a pile. In the end we only made a small dent but cleaning garbage out of the ocean was very satisfying. I like the idea of having a task beyond looking around, much like hiking, I prefer to have a goal. After the dive we dumped water out of the bottles and stashed them away. I’m hoping they didn’t just go onto a barge and back into the ocean somewhere else.
Night Dive
We sat on the boat and waiting for dark, as the sun set, we slipped back into the water. Truth be told, I was terrified while waiting on the boat, but as soon as I got in the water I was just excited. It was like motorcycling in the rain, I was so focused on the task and it was such a rewarding challenge, my brain just didn’t have room for fear. We pointed our flashlights and saw the blue patches on a stingray glow. The instructor brought us in a circle and had us shut of our lights and wave our hands. As we did, bioluminescent plankton lit up. It was very faint and you had to really look for it, but the little blue flashes were there. It was not a light show that rivaled fireworks, it was just faint whispers of light not intended for the human eye. After the dive I went to the restaurant attached to the resort and found I couldn’t get anyone to come take my order, or even bring me a menu. This was a common theme at that establishment during my stay. Throughout the week I just went to the nearby 7-11 for suppers and ate them on my balcony. It was quite isolating, and very stereotypical of a tourist to eat all his meals from 7-11. Towards the end of my stay, one of the instructors informed me there was a really good fried chicken restaurant about a block away… I became a regular there during my stay.
The rest of the week was more diving and relaxing. One of the dives was a navigation dive where my partner and I were shown a map, given a slate to draw our own and make a plan, then off we went. I suggested she take the lead as I have a lot of experience with maps and she said she needed the practice. She got lost almost immediately. I recognized a large rock crack and took the lead. We did a lap around the pinnacle and did a swim-through at 26m. I was about to lead us south west to a rock pile, but she stopped me. It turns out I was running very low on oxygen. We made our safety stops and surfaced. The entire ascent, we locked arms ready to share her air via the spare regulator. It never came to that, I ended with just under 15 bars on the gauge. Typically, you try to end with somewhere between 40 and 50 bars of pressure. After that dive we did a shipwreck, unfortunately visibility was horrible. I could barely see my outstretched hand. So I followed the group only able to see their silver tanks in all the green algae. We did a swim through on part of the ship and got some pictures. It was a strange disorienting sensation to be swimming and see the current change direction, without a fixed object for reference, it felt like I was spinning and changing direction against my will. It felt like drunken spins. Diving in poor visibility is something I thought would be terrifying, but once down there I realized that no matter how bad it got… I could just go up. This made it an interesting learning experience, but I was sad I didn’t get a good view of the ship, the pictures I have seen of it look amazing… One more reason to go back.
I decided I wanted to get a tattoo on my second last day on the island. My diving was done and I wanted a full day to recover before taking boats, busses, and planes where aftercare would be difficult. I booked my appointment at a well reviewed shop. He quoted me a price of about $150 cad and told me to be there at 3pm. I came back at 3, after my last dive. He was tattooing someone else and without looking up, he told me to come back at 5. I went for pizza and never came back. To hell with him if he can’t keep a schedule. Didn’t need that tattoo anyway. Later, I had a few drinks at the bar with some of the dive instructors. It was nice to see they were super friendly even off the clock. After a dozen dives and about a week on the island some part of my mind was considering finding a way to stay, maybe get trained as a dive master and make my living that way. Its weird, I was still quite sad and alone feeling, but I wanted to stay. I liked the diving, I didn’t like the empty hotel room.
Back To Kathmandu
My full week in a private room on the resort and diving daily resulted in a bill of just over $800. I don’t know how it ended up that cheap, I was expecting a little over double that but they offered discounts for dives and accommodation. I didn’t ask too many questions or look too close. Happily and hurriedly, I paid my bill and left the office. The next few days were just an uneventful blur of busses, boats and a plane back to Bangkok. I stayed at the edge of town near the airport far from anything a tourist would want to see. The next day I went to the airport and waited for my flight back to Kathmandu. In the airport, I did a tourism survey and was given a small coin purse. It really felt like a scam of some kind but they never asked me for personal information so it must have been legitimate. I also took the opportunity to send a few post cards to my family. While waiting to board the plane I noticed a Nepali man wearing a Magpul shirt. Naturally I went over and complimented it. He informed me he was from Nepal but lived in the USA, hence the firearms shirt. On the plane, near Kathmandu, we hit some hard rain and turbulence. We circled the city for about an hour waiting for the weather to clear. We were told we may divert to Delhi, luckily it didn’t come to that. This time I stayed at the same hostel, they just texted me the room number and I helped myself. It went much smoother than the first time I stayed. I was also very relieved to see the duffel bag I had left behind in storage was still there, dusty, but untouched.
I spent the next few days wandering the streets of Kathmandu in a smug self-satisfied way, I was proud of myself for all I had done. I picked up a few more gifts for friends and family from the various little shops and decided to splash out and stay at a $35 a night hotel my last two nights. It was beautiful, big, and clean. The balcony overlooked a little shrine statue in the alleyway. In the evenings I smoked cigars on the balcony while writing in my journal. Mamita asked to meet me at a café at 9pm. I wandered the dark streets to get there, thinking about how 10 weeks ago they would have terrified me. Upon arrival I found my phone was off, I turned it on and found she had texted me to reschedule for the morning. Mamita met me for breakfast and I told her about my travels, it was nice to catch up. On the way back to the hotel I bought Natalie a Royal Enfield T-shirt to match mine, she had requested it. I wasn’t sure when I would see Natalie again, but we were already talking about her coming to visit me at home during the summer to do some hiking, that did end up happening, along with a few other trips. Repeatedly I repacked my gear for the flight home, and relaxed in my hotel room, for supper I had a water buffalo burger that was positively amazing.
The last day was dull, almost intentionally so. I tried to sleep in, I checked out at 2pm and stored my bags. I walked Thamel one last time and tried my best to soak it in and remember the feeling and the smells. After some lunch, I bought a 200npr copy of H.G Well’s The Time Machine. Finally, it got late enough, I got a ride from the hotel to the airport and started the long trip home. There were long flights and layovers and I had no idea what my life would hold when I got home. At the time, I had no job, and no plan, and was somehow, ok with that. My friend Troy picked me up at the airport, fed me a burger, and delivered me to my apartment. Everything was how I left it, and I didn’t feel too terribly different… Maybe a little thinner… I was sad it was over, and I was glad to be home, it was time to sleep in my own bed, and see what the future held.
There’s no great way to say this, but I took this trip because I hated my job and was depressed about my divorce. It’s hard to say if it helped with either of those much, but I think it turned out to be a net positive for me in other ways. I made friends that I am still in touch with and in less than a week of posting this, I will be meeting Natalie, her boyfriend, and two of her friends in Cabo to do some diving. And probably never would have gone to Guatemala if it weren’t for Natalie and Renata. Aside from the people I met, it let me do a bit of a hard reset and take stock of what I want to do with my life. Certainly I don’t have all the answers, but I know now that I want to keep travelling and I know I want to spend time with friends and family… After some time at home and at a semi-office job, I took another run at HVAC, it turns out that job wasn’t a good fit, but the industry is and I am now a first year apprentice and going to trade school in the new year. Turns out I like working with my hands and fixing things. Not everyone has the opportunity to travel like I do, but that was the life I had built for myself… and this trip has made me optimistic about what the rest of my life could look like now that I have a better understanding of what I do and dont want out of it. As for healing from my divorce, it didn’t help, only time was able to do that. But hey, it might help you, so book the trip, and tell me all about it when you get home.
Thank you to everyone who has been reading these stories… more to come in the future.
Posted in Scuba Diving, Travel and tagged adventure, backpacking, Koh Tao, Outdoors, Scuba diving, Thailand, travelwith 4 comments.