Once again driving all by my lonesome to San Carlos Mexico. I don’t mind it so much as I like to listen to books on audio and I never expect any trouble at the border. This time I was pulled over to the side for inspection. The border agents with their guns were leering at me and speaking to me in Spanish. I was told that this is not the time to practice Spanish, so when they spoke to me I smiled a big stupid American smile and shook my head. They asked me to pop the trunk and I did, hoping they weren’t going to go through all my SCUBA gear. I especially did not want them to confiscate my dive knife, which I would inform them was a dive tool. A knife would be a weapon, right?
They shut the trunk and waved me on. I was just one of a zillion Arizonans who head to San Carlos for SCUBA. Being a female traveling alone though, I thought, I got away pretty easy.
The rest of the drive was uneventful. Once you get past the border, it looks like Arizona with more stray dogs. Also, when you go through the “towns” there are speed bumps, and stationed at each speed bump are people selling things. The speed bumps slow you down just enough to buy $50 pesos worth of home made tortillas. Made with real lard, the good stuff. Of course you roll the dice and take your chances on the safety of the product, as we don’t really know where or how they are made. The food and safety inspectors are few and far between in Mexico so it would seem.
We got to the hotel, checked in and my roommate was already there. She was a young lady getting her open water certification that trip. As is the tradition with Scuba Specialties, the greatest dive shop in Arizona, we all go to dinner together after getting settled in.
The next morning we took off for the Island. the seas were choppy and donning my various layers of neoprene was challenging. the water was going to be cold so I was going to wear all my wetsuits at once. It helps.
The water was cold and murky, but it was diving. I was properly layered and only one wimp (Steven) wore a dry suit. I had on a 3mm hooded vest, a 3mm core warmer, and a 5mm full suit and gloves. I bobbed like a cork. It took 26 pounds to sink then I was overweighted. In tropical waters I use 10 pounds. I decided to dive head first to get down.
I hate to dive in head first, as my ears explode. I like to descend slowly feet first and clear my screetching ears properly. When I go head first I always forget as I am too intent on getting to the bottom my ears start hurting before I clear. Very bad.
I was the more experienced between my dive buddy and me and therefore elected to navigate. That was a challenge and it came to my attention that I really need more practice.
That first day we went to San Pedro Nolasco to the front (east) side of the island. There were no sea lions to be found, but the water wasn’t too cold. There were a number of large jellyfish floating around but I was assured they aren’t the stinging kind. I didn’t have to find out, I steered clear of them and they hang out at the surface anyway. You had to get really close to the bottom to see anything, and there was a lot to see. It wasn’t hard to get close to the bottom with 24 pounds of lead in my pockets either. I saw my first nudibranchs.
The second day we went around to the west side and there were a lot of playful sea lions. When I saw the first one I thought it was a shark as I only caught a glimpse of a large grey figure cruising by. Oh heck, let’s say it was a shark. Nice. There were more jellyfish and I avoided then as they are just plain icky.
There were a few Divemaster Candidates on board and they were doing skills in the water, as were the open water students. I think me and my dive buddy were the only fun divers there for no particular reason. We dove with divemaster Buck on the very last dive and he took us on a nice little tour. I was grateful that I didn’t have to monitor my compass and could just follow. It is tough stuff diving with that much crap, meaning layered like I was. I think next time in cooler water I am just going to stick it out with one wetsuit. I could hardly get back up on the boat with all that weight, and the immobility on the layers.
After getting back to the mainland, it was party time. No more dives, so more tequila. Steven, the dive instructor on the trip took us on a tour of his sailboat he has docked down there. There are a number of gringos that have real estate and/or keep boats there.
The next day was the long drive home. It went fast up until I got to the border. They always instruct us to take the commercial route to avoid going through Nogales. But on this day, there were about 8 hours worth of semi tractor-trailers lined up to go through. I was in no way going to wait that long. I weaved around to try and get to the head of the line but reached a point where there was no getting around the trucks. Before I would be boxed in and stranded, I turned around and headed back the way I came and decided to go through town. It was actually not that bad, I got to see the circus that is central Nogales, and got through the border crossing much faster. The border agent was incredulous that I was on my own. Apparently everyone but me thinks it’s dangerous to drive down there all alone.
until next time
The ScubaJedi
To view all the pictures from this adventure, click here!