Vandenberg and Dry Tortuga Dives

Had a great 4 days with Captain Rick on the Ultimate Getaway. Left Wednesday night at 7...right on schedule...woke up Thursday AM at 5AM to hot coffee and breakfast of bacon and eggs. Dove 5 dives on the Vandenberg that day. Depth to the deck was 90 FSW. 146 FSW to the sand. Dove dives on nitrox from 26 to 32 so was able to hit the sand and check out the rudder on one dive. Lot's of fish, but very little benthic as yet. Ship is somewhere near 580 feet long. Good visibility and water temp in the low 80's. Some photos:

Next set of adventures ready to begin

On 19May2010 I leave aboard the Ultimate Getaway Dive Boat from Fort Myers Beach, Florida. We head out at 7PM for Key West and to spend Thursday diving the Vandenberg. Then we move on th the Marquesa Keys and the Dry Tortugas. In all four days of 6-8 dives per day. Arriving back in Fort Myers Beach Sunday 23May2010.

On Monday 24May2010 it's off to Santa Cruz, Bolivia for a month in the Bolivian and Brazilian Pantanal. This is trip based out of Florida Gulf Coast University to perform anthropology and wetlands research.

I anticipate internet access on most of the trips, so as long as the batteries are charged, the writing and stories will commence.

Cheers...it's time to blow some bubbles!

Steve

A Day on the Indian Ocean

We reserved the boat for one day during our weeks stay to participate in the local specialty...world class sport fishing. Rising in the pre-dawn hours...I hurried to the waterfront with my camera to see if I could get some good shots of the sunrise over the Indian Ocean. I was met there by a fellow traveller and sportsman from Columbia. We chatted for a short time before a large flock of birds flew by. I shot a few pictures as we watched in wonder..."What do you think those are?" I asked. "Pterodactyls I think" was the reply.

We boarded the boat shortly after dawn and proceeded out several miles in calm seas. The captain baited several lines and the adventure had begun. Almost immediately we began catching 5-10 lb skip-jack tuna...almost as fast as we could get our lines in the water. What a ball...what a fighter...it could take several minutes to land one! Then the yelling began..."this is the bait you bastards! Hurry up!"....Holy shit! We thought this was great...what were we in for?

On we went into the deep. Thank heavens the seas were flat...I had been known to be seasick before. Fortunately I had mentioned this to the captain a day or so before. Told him I usually take Dramamine, but it seldom worked. He told me I had been taking it wrong. "Take a full dose the night before, then a 1/2 dose just before getting on the boat," he advised. This I did and was thrilled with the success. Not a bit of that queasy feeling! And what a glorious day...flat calm...hotter than Haites. The captain threaded one of the tuna on a very large hook...and we began trolling.

We trolled three lines at various lengths and depths behind the boat. Marlin will attack the closest and shallowest first generally it seems. This alerts the crew to be ready as they hook them on the middle line typically. And the way the set the hook is pretty cool...hang on...as they hit the throttles to full. We shared chances as we gor several hits, until we finally hooked into a big Black Marlin...and I mean big! It was Doug's turn in the seat...thank God! All hell broke out on the boat. First the captain floored the throttles to hool the fish...all the while yelling in Swahili at the two local mates. Doug was placed in the seat with the fighting belt on and hooked to the rod...not the boat...just the rod. Then the boat was reversed. As fast as we could go in reverse, the captain throttled, all the while yelling, "reel!" And reel Doug did. The water coming over the transom in massive waves as the boat backed up to the fish. The black mates standing either side of him as the water sent his Raybans awash yelling to reel in Swahili...it was all Earl and I could do not to get in the way as we laughed in hysterics. Doug was horrified. Within a few minutes the fish was at the back of the boat...about a 600 lb monster...and about as "green" as it could be...meaning it was still fresh...not worn or tired at all for the fight. The captain turned to Doug, "Keep it or tag it?" Doug looked at me and I shrugged. "Keep it," he said.

Now we are some six or ten or maybe twelve thousand miles from home. What in hell are we going to do with a six hundred pound fish? Well the fight was on. They let the fish go from the back of the boat and Doug proceeded to fight that fish for some three hours or so. At one point the line was almost straight down behind the boat. Doug stated, "I thought they were supposed to jump." Just about at that point a fish came out of the water maybe three hundred yards behind the boat. "Look, there's another one!" exclaimed Doug. We laughed so hard our sides ached. "Reel!" was yelled.

Well after three hours the fish "sounded"...meaning it went deep. Billfish are known to go to the bottom and bury their bill in the sea floor to get away. Whether that was what happened or whether a large predator shark attacked the weary fish, we'll never know. All we knew was we would not be returning to port with the black flag flying indicating a successful trip. Though for us it was right out of the picture books...but wait...a National Geographic moment was yet to be had.

We were now late coming back in as the fight lasted so long. The sun was now setting over Africa. Doug, Earl, and I took up positions on the bow of the boat as we returned, reliving the day and enjoying a beer. And in the distance some 200 yards in front...humpback whales began breaching in their hunt for food. Now I have seen some sights...but this beat all. Here we were, three travellers from New England, having just fought a world class sport fish, sitting on the bow of a 46' Bertram, having a beer, and watching the sun set over Africa while humpback whales breach all around us. It doesn't get any better than that!

Watamu and the Big City of Malindi

Arriving at the then called Sportsman (now Ocean Sports) in Watamu was another surreal experience. You drive through what we call "third world" poverty, by young girls walking up to five miles with gallon buckets of water on their head, women carrying firewood on their heads (Note the men are all standing by the road watching...) and into a seaside retreat surrounded by a concrete wall with broken glass imbedded in the top as if to act as barbed wire. Here we would spend a week to ten days doing what we knew not as we were not supposed to be here.

As it turns out Watamu and the nearby larger village of Malindi are world class fishing destinations favored by ocean fishing sportsmen the world over. Who knew? It also had a very accommodating staff and facility for three wayward travellers on a Kenyan Safari. Three squares a day, afternoon high tea, private guest house for the three of us, and a bar. Oh yeah... and a 46 foot Bertram Sport Fisher and a swimming pool. And if you got bored...next door was the resort called Hemingways...pure first class for the distinguishing European. I guess this will do for a place to waste a little time.

Now in travelling to Kenya, you will have to get shots and take anti malarial drugs. I believe all three of us were taking mefloquine also known as Larium. No real side effects that we felt, but the fact that you had to take them at all, plus the fact that your bed came with a mosquito net, added a true sense of adventure to sleeping as you got "accustomed" to your new location. Getting in bed, while trying to make sure that you have all, and I mean all, corners and edges of your net carefully tucked under your mattress so that no varmints could get to you, was a challenge. Then make sure that as you lay in bed bathed in perspiration you don't have any body parts touching the net (certainly they could bite you through the net!). Real comfortable the first few nights. Doug and I slept upstairs and Earl downstairs in our Villa. The first morning I awoke to a strange kind of tinkling or rattling coming from downstairs. Kind of like a tea cup against a saucer. Rising and coming down, we found Earl who was and is always the master at finding the "special things", sitting on the front veranda with tea, coffee, scones, crumpets, etc. How great was this! It made me forget about the big fat blood filled mosquito on the inside of my net as I arose.

After delivering the morning tea, our assigned staff member asked where we would like our afternoon high tea served. Not quite in the swing of living as a British ex-pat, we advised we weren't sure...he would have to search us out. We were going to explore our new surroundings.

Another thing we were not aware of was that the hotel grounds were forbidden to the locals. What this did not address, however, was the beach itself. As soon as you step foot off the last step of the hotel onto the sand, you became fair game for the local merchant trade. Wood carvings, bracelets (no-doubt created from the copper wires from the sometimes working telecommunications system), camel rides, snorkeling tours...you name it. You had to walk fast to keep them behind you. We had been advised before coming that the heftier you are the wealthier you are...so our collective merchant brigade was always directed to Earl as "Poppa" and the one with all the money. Doug and I chuckled at this thought...I'm not sure Earl appreciated it though.

About 200 feet off shore there was a bommie or rock jutting out or the water. It was about 30 feet high and looked as though it could be scaled. After slight consideration we decided to venture to the rock...our first foot in the Indian Ocean. All along the shore there was seaweed at the wave /beach line. It was twenty or so feet wide and had to be crossed to get into the water. No problem. Next obstacle was that the water, which was only a few feet deep, was littered with wht I choose to call pock marks. These were hol,es about two feet in diameter and six inches to a foot deep. Perfect ankle damage terrain. We wandered out toward our goal, chatting away, and noticing that the surface of our target seemed to be fluid. Not until we were nearly on top of the rock did we realize that it was completely covered with crabs. Hundreds of thousands of crabs! Wasn't going to be anybody climbing on that rock today. So back we headed to shore. As we approached the seaweed barrier we noticed onother overlooked item...about every three feet on the ocean side of the seaweed...a moray eel poked out his head. Every three feet! Dead stop...how were we to cross this now? How long were these monsters that we unwittingly walked right through on our way out to sea? If you ran between two you were sure to step on the tail of one, right? After several minutes of discussion, survey, and distress Earl ran through...Doug followed. Neither were accosted. Took me a few more moments to build up confidence...then I busted through with all my speed. And I live to tell the story.

Next was breakfast...a good hearty English breakfast. Doug and Earl ordered eggs and several items of meat...eggs...Sixty Minutes...pallet of eggs in Nairobi...I ordered peeled fruit. That went on several days as I watched The guys enjoy their great breakfast and not show any signs of remorse. About the third day I joined them...and the eggs and meat were good...

"The Coast"

Well as it turns out we could not take the train. We went to the train station the day after we arrived in Nairobi to see if we could get tickets. Thought this train would be cool. It's the train Teddy Roosevelt had a chair strapped to the front of so he could hunt on the journey...anyway it travels overnite from Nairobi to Mombasa. First class...meaning you get a compartment...was sold out. We coud ride in the general compartment...whatever that was called...but decided it best not to ride with the chickens and other wildlife that would be in the car. So we were off to the plane. Nairobi to Mombasa...then a cab to Malindi.

Now one thing that needs to be explained about Kenya at that time. There are alot of people...alot of them were not working full time let's say...so they stand in groups along side the streets. Almost as if a parade was going to come by. Speaking not out of any racist bias...they were also primarily locals...meaning they were dark skinned. And they liked to stare at anything that went by that was of a different skin tone. I found out quickly what it may feel like to be a minority. In Mombasa, thousands of men were on the sides of the street. They stared at these three white boys from New England as they passed by in the rickety Mercedes (and it truly was rickety). Landing at the airport we were hustled out to this guys cab. Doug, in his infinite wisdom, told him he heard we could get to Malindi in one hour (Malindi is 200 Km away). Answer from the cabbie, " I don't know, but I'll try. I have a Mercedes." So in we git...and before we got out of the airport parking lot, the dashboard fell off in Doug's lap. Great! Let's race!

Remember we are in an old colony of England. This means you drive on the left. The road is not so good from Mombasa to Malindi. In many cases they were performing "road work". To notify you they put a sign in the middle of your lane with a skull and crossbones. A few hundred meters up they put bushes in the road...on your lane. A hundred or so meters ahead is another skull and crossbone sign stating "YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED". Do you think the cab slowed? Or anybody else for that matter? Luckily when a lorrie came head on, our cabbie had the wherewithall to go into the ditch, around the truck, and back on the road. All at 120Km per hour.

Now we were still in a time warp from the airplane. Let alone the cultural shock of being in Africa. So we were in a cross between absolute terror and those uncontrollable giggles you get when saturated with tiredness. This was about the time that Doug announced' "I saw my first breasts!" I guess he must have looked at a few National Geographics before we left. My reply, "it's about time...you are over forty."

Next stop Malindi and Watamu.

Off to Nairobi

Yellow immunization card and passport in hand, of we went to Nairobi. Kathy dropped us at Logan Airport in Boston for the 36 hour journey through London. Six hours overnight to London...change airports...wait 14 hours...overnight to Kenya.

Now Matt was getting kind of tired of his boss dressing him up like a circus monkey and showing off the animals to his "guests". An example of the types of guests...Mick Jagger...gives you an idea of the crowd we're heading into. Anyway, Matt got so tired of this that he gave his notice (unbeknownced to myself and Earl). As a result of "The Notice" the boss got some upset, and decided that we, as Matts guests, were now uninvited. Doug made the decision to advise us of this fact in the air...somewhere over Libya I believe! No shit...off to Africa for three weeks, and no place to stay or go. Now we're really having fun!

Deplaning in Nairobi, and first foot on the African continent was pretty surreal. I had to stop before we went down the grand staircase to customs and immigration to read the sign of items that "you may have in your luggage that are illegal and considered contriband in Kenya". Items like Readers Digest...you know that little magazine that you read in the doctor's office? Yup. And the list went on and on. I almost got pushed down the stairs by my fellow passengers while I read the list of items. When you go to Nairobi make sure you check out the sign...it is huge and right over your head as you hit the stairs.

Luggage in hand we were met by Matthew, Di, and Solo (short for Soloman, Matts Kenyan assistant at the ranch). We would spend the night in the Intercontinental Hotel in Nairobi, which would give us plenty of time to figure how we would handle the next three weeks with no "invited" place to go in Africa. First stop though, we were hungry. And in Nairobi you go to the "Carnivore" to eat your first night. Such delicacies as ostrich, zebra, buffalo...you get the idea.
And while on the way we drove into a ditch (and I got bloodied shins), saw a bicyclist get hit and thrown into the windshield of the car that hit him (and the driver got out and both the driver and a passerby threw him in the backseat and took off...let's assume to the hospital), and a pallet...a whole pallet... of eggs (yes chicken eggs) sitting outside, no cover in the sun on the equator. Now just the week before I watched a show on Sixty Minutes (a US news show) that went undercover in America...in grocery stores...with hidden cameras...to watch chicken eggs that had been surrepticiously tagged, to see how long they were left out of refridgeration. Imagine their dismay when Mike Walters (the shows host) popped out to ask indignantly why those eggs had been out of the 'fridge for a minute and a half! And here was a pallet...in 90 degree heat...full of eggs...in the sun. Guess I would pass on eggs for breakfast for the next three weeks.

Anyway, the trip was going to be full of adventure...I could tell. And here was the plan we concocted. Knowing that we were coming over...Matt's boss...who only came over every other month or so...was to make a visit to the ranch with his wife and some guests the first ten days of our visit. Undoubtedly this was designed to keep us away. So we would go to the coast...to Mombassa. Actually to a little known village 100km north of Mombassa called Watamu. Tomorrow we would either fly or take the train to Mombassa (the train was the one depicted in "The Ghost and The Darkness" with Michael Douglas about the man-eating lions they had to hunt down while they laid the tracks). We would stay at The Sportsman, a hotel on the coast that offered deep sea fishing on a world class scale. It was right next to a resort called Hemingways appropriately enough.

After spending the 9 days in Watamu, we would fly back to Nairobi. There we would go to Wilson Airport. Wilson Airport was a somewhat private airport. You see, Matt's boss had to leave tyhe ranch after his visit...and I forgot to mention that there is an airstrip on the ranch...big enough for those corporate jets. Bossman had one of his jets flying in to the ranch to pick him up. Ane we were going to sneak into the ranch on his jet! We would be wisked away and hidden while the plane refueled and loaded its rightful passengers. Then, with the knowledge of the pilots and all the staff at the ranch, we would have our uninvited and unbelievable visit to the Kenyan ranch...Ole Jogi.

Exotic Kenya Safari?

It started on a hot July day. It was summer in Maine and as was custom at Highland Lake on a hot summer day in early July, Doug and I were floating in the lake having a "toddy". For those who do not know Doug, he is my wife's cousin on her mother's side. Doug and I have been close for years...probably beginning back in around the mid-eighties when we started hunting for deer together. As newcomers to the deer hunting world, we were (and probably still are) looked at as "dweebs" that did not have a clue. This may have increased our bond...kind of like the idiots in some of those slapstick movies. Anyway, I digress...

A hot summer day in Maine, alcohol, and the ideas began to flow. It so happened that one of Doug's twin brothers went to school to be an elephant trainer. I know...who would have thought?
Matt (the brother) worked for a time at the San Diego Zoo doing his elephant training thing. Then by chance he somehow got hooked up with a very wealthy fellow that owned some 35,000 acres in central Kenya. Matt was offered...and he took...the position of "Animal Trainer" for this guy. At this time Matt and his wife Di were in Africa and had been for two or three years. They had a son, Adam, born while they were working there, and a new baby on the way. And...you guessed it...why don't we go to Africa? Of course! That's the ticket...we'll just hop on a plane and go to Africa and visit Matt...he'll put us up!

Well we spent the afternoon talking and dreaming and drinking and wiling away the weekend. By mid week I had forgotten all about the discussion. About Wednesday Doug called. It was all set. We would go in October for three weeks. Matt had gotten permission from his billionaire boss and we were set. All we needed was shots and visas and we were off. Holy shit! We were really going to Africa! You should also know this was about the time "Out of Africa" was out...you know...the movie with Merril Streep where she says, "I waaant to go to Aafrikaa". Well that's about all we could say for the next three months!

And then it got even better...we got Earl approved to go with us! Not only by Matt and his boss, but by Earl's wife! Next stop Nairobi!