Puerto Madryn, Argentina

Tuesday, February 22, 2005:

Well, I had been warned. Katerina, a Swiss-German divemaster in Utila, Honduras had told me that my experiences diving there and in the Galapagos would spoil my diving expectations forever. My instructor and various other staff members at the Bay Island College of Diving told me the same thing. Various experienced divers on the Galapagos then told me the same thing even more forcefully.

They were right.

I arrived at the dive center at 9 AM (www.scubaduba.com.ar) where I tried on my equipment amidst the bustle of a large family preparing themselves for their first ever immersion. One of the divemasters introduced herself, then introduced me to a rather plump middle-aged man "from France," who did not speak Spanish and spoke only a little English. "I am from Belgium!" he corrected her, a bit sternly. He seemed to have had enough practice saying that, of all things, in English. He later told me that he was a certified divemaster who was in the process of training to be an instructor. I wondered what he was doing all the way down in Patagonia (south of almost all of Australia at this point) where the water was cold and he couldn`t speak the language. I assume I missed something due to our inability to communicate past the basics. In any event, he would be diving with me and we would be "buddies" or whatever the word for "buddy" is in French. Or Flemmish. Whatever.

After gathering our equipment together, we crossed the street to the beach and waded into the water where a boat was waiting to take us out. We motored out from shore for about 10 minutes to a floating wooden platform that several dive shops seemed to be sharing to use as a base for diving there. It was clearly the spot from which they trained new divers. Accordingly, we dropped the large Argentinian family off before continuing on our way toward our first dive site, which I was told would be a wreck submerged in approximately 65 - 70 feet of water. Apart from me, the divemaster and captain of the boat, there was the Belgian and a 30ish Argentinian man. I sensed from the number of questions he was asking that he wasn`t very experienced and had not dived in a while.

When we reached the area above the wreck, some 25 minutes after leaving shore, the divemaster (a woman of about 30) briefed us on the site (and instructed us NOT to enter the ship) and, without delay, we put our equipment on and hit the water. I had been wondering for some time how I would feel about diving again after a 2 1/2 month pause and whether I would remember everything or feel nervous. I found myself relaxed and extremely comfortable. When the Argentine man complained about the cold water, I admit I felt a bit smug, having experienced the same (and colder) conditions in the Galapagos. And the current here was nil.

We descended into murky, dark green water and found ourselves at 40 feet below above the deck of a large (120 foot?) freighter that had been deliberately sunk here at the end of its days to create a dive site. Algae and various plants and animals clung to the surface of the hull and all about the surface of the ship. In the dim, eerie light, the scene was reminiscent of an old Jacques Cousteau documentary. But there weren`t any sunken treasures or historical relics to be found. We descended to 70 feet to find that the only thing on display for us were a few fish darting in and out from the crevice under the hull --- including some large (3 foot) white salmon and an even larger specimen, likely a species of grouper (nearly 4 foot), with huge "lips" and bulbous eyes. We circled the boat several times, rising slowly all the while, as the divemaster stopped periodically to point out various fish to us. It was interesting and relaxing but the stimuli were fairly lacking in comparison to the Galapagos. There were a few big fish here, yes, but only a few and only a couple of types. Where were the sharks? And turtles? And goofy, playful sea lions? I have seen more fish at once in 1 second in the Galapagos then I did during the entire dive at the wreck. So, was it a good dive? I guess it wasn`t bad. But it utterly paled in comparison to everything I had experienced before. To top it off, we had to surface after 30 minutes because the Argentinian began to run out of air. I still had half a tank left and could have managed another 20 minutes or so (I think the Belgian had the same). Fortunately, I didn`t really want to stay down for that much more time. There wasn`t anything more I would see during that time.

Our second dive, after a 30 minute surface interval, was off the platform set up for novices. This dive truly was lame, by any standards, and certainly my worst. I doubt we ever reached a depth below 20 feet and the few fish we saw were nothing spectacular. The variety of strange green plantlife was mildly interesting, but didn`t make for a decent dive in and of itself. Only the thought that I was in Patagonia, diving a remote shore at the southern edge of the world, was enough to give the dive enough novelty to feel worthwhile. After 45 minutes we returned to the platform. I had used only a third of my air. I didn`t understand why we had gone diving in that site in the first place. Was that as good as it got, after the wreck? I had heard there were sea lions here, and that there was even the chance to spot whales. As it turns out, this applies to dives near Peninsula Valdes. We were about 60 to 70 miles away from all that.

Overall, the best thing about the experience was the discovery that I hadn`t forgotten anything or lost any confidence, something that is very reassuring to me as I consider taking a divemaster certification course somewhere in East Africa (most likely Zanzibar). In fact, I managed to confirm (at least in this case) the mantra the divemasters on the Galapagos kept repeating: "If you learn to dive here, you can dive anywhere." And, by way of clear implication, you can dive almost anywhere easily. Not to sound too arrogant, but the conditions here were extremely easy by comparison.

After I returned to Puerto Madryn, changed and had lunch, I booked a trip to see the Valdes Peninsula park the next day. I then went to a couple of other scuba operators to see if they had dives out of Valdes or another park with more wildlife (particularly areas where you could be in the water with penguins, sea lions or --- if you were really lucky --- whales or dolphins). The response I received wasn`t encouraging. They did these dives, but infrequently, and only when a large enough group of people indicated interest. It was an hour and a half drive to any of these areas, much longer by boat. One operator suggested I try to book a dive directly from the main town on the Valdes Peninsula, but this is logistically very difficult. I would have to see if I could find time to book it during my trip there.

My last order of business was to book a plane ticket back to Buenos Aires on Friday. Since I wasn`t going to be doing much more diving (maybe I will try it again on Thursday if I can find a place that doesn`t tell me how fascinating it is to look at dark green plants in 15 feet of dark green water as one of the dives), I could justify the $80 price. I`ve had it with buses already. My next big bus trip can wait until Africa. My next good dive will probably wait until then as well.