Mexican Adventure, Part III: Scuba: not a sport, but fun nonetheless

Poolside cheeseburgers and shameless gorging aside, our main activity in Cozumel was Scuba diving, which we did over two days. My first day was spent alone with an instructor, as I needed to complete two more beach-based dives for my certification. Luis, my instructor, was a young, cheerful bloke who was passionate about diving and was actually an ex-semi-pro surfer as well, so we had a lot to talk about. He was very impressed with the surfing-specific wetsuit I had brought from home, but I didn't have the heart to tell Luis that the suit was in no way an accurate indicator of my actual surfing ability.

So while I spent my first two dives off of the beach on the first day of scuba, Crystal, already certified, went off on the boat with 5 other divers, where they had hit the jackpot: no sooner had their boat reached their designated dive spot and floated to a halt, that half a dozen dolphins started leaping out of the water, mere feet away from the boat. The group's dive master had begun to go through their plans for the first morning's dive, but when he spotted the dolphins - an extremely rare sighting - the dive master went bananas. He was so excited by leaping dolphins that he ditched his dive safety speech and yelled for everyone to dive in the water, lest they miss the Vegas-grade show. They dove in, and had a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Meanwhile, I was stuck on the beach, practicing breathing exercises and talking about my awesome wetsuit with Luis.

The second day's dive was none too shabby. I finally joined the rest of the divers aboard the boat, and we did see some terrific sea life: beautiful reefs, colorful fish, and one giant lobster. One fish in particular had me chuckling throughout my dive: it was scaled with a diamond pattern, and in the undersea light, the coloring of its scales had a distinctly 1970's bachelor pad, rompus room motif: subdued reds, burnt oranges and yellows, and shimmering quartz. I figured if any fish would evolve to have chest hair and drive a Corvette, it would be this one. I called it the Leisure Fish. I imagined it inviting other fish couples to it's little reef, and after some tasty krill cocktails, they would switch swimming partners at the end of their soiree. It's amazing what oxygen deprivation can do to the mind.

The diving really was good fun. When you finally learn to control your movements and maintain neutral buoyancy, it does feel like you're floating in zero gravity, and it's obviously a treat seeing the fish and other creatures in their natural habitat.

I think scuba is one of those activities that some die-hard devotees will insist is a sport, and not a mere activity. After my admittedly short stint underwater, I can now prove these people dead wrong. Any activity where an obese, 350 lb Texan can seem more graceful underwater than a healthy, physically active 175 lb. man, is not a sport. While I was struggling to maintain buoyancy and constantly adjusting my breathing and weights, the big Texan, one of the other clients in our boat and a seasoned diver, floated through the murky depths with the grace and agility of a shark. It was impressive. Back on land, of course, this husky gentleman moved with the typical, deliberate gait of a man who was trapped in his own cell of corpulence. I know it's a harsh observation, but I'm just saying I can understand why bigger people love Scuba.