Day 42 - Dangers of being a model and Day One of my cavern course

I don't know why I'm taking the cavern diving course. I remember that the first time I saw a cenote last summer, I just knew I would be taking the course one day. The jungle around is amazing. The water is crystal clear. The cavern overhead is a little scary. It is unbelievably inviting. On the other hand, you can always dive cenotes on a tour, without any cavern certification, so really, I cannot justify spending my money and time on this. But I guess I should stop looking for a reason for everything. This just makes me happy. Isn't that enough?

When we enter the territory of our first cenote this morning, we are greeted by the land owner, who is comfortably seated under a palapa, making it impossible to escape an obligatory conversation on a random topic (this is something very typical in Mexico: if you want to start something on a specific time, you always have to account for several random conversations on your way to fulfillment of your goal). The story is not bad though: "On the dangers of being a model". Apparently, a lot of professional model photoshoots are done on the cenotes land because of the surrounding jungle beauty. A couple of days ago, a photoshoot crew brought some wild animals with them - leopards, tigers, monkeys, snakes - to fortify the jungle ambiance, I guess. One of the tigers was forced to put his paws on a model's lap, but he didn't seem to like this pose at all and 5 minutes into the photoshoot, took out a huge chunk of the model's leg.

The course lasts 2 full days - from 8AM till 5PM. It's a lot more technical than a regular diving course, as apparently cavern diving goes beyond the definition of any "sport diving" (who knew). All my regular scuba equipment has to be modified a little bit to give me a perfect trim, which means nothing should be dangling from your Buoyancy Compensator (BC) not to disturb the silt in the cavern and to eliminate the danger of potential entanglement. Lots of little clips make their appearance from my instructor's tool box and onto my BC, hooking everything perfectly in its new place. An 8-foot long hose regulator replaces my alternative source and my normal regulator is secured with a bungy rope around my neck, for the new air sharing procedure (in a cavern it is at times impossible to swim side by side, and the hose has to be long enough to allow swimming in a file while sharing air). When you go into a cavern, you must always "run a line" on your way in and spool it back on your way out. This is one most important cave diving procedure - without proper lining you may easily get directionally confused, lost, and eventually die. I love how in the book for this particular course, they are not shy with the word "die". Usually, diving manuals emphasize how safe diving is: yes, they all say, it is important to adhere to all the proper procedures, but if you do, it is super safe. No mention of the d-word. Here, the opposite: on every other page - if you don't run the line properly at all times, you will die; don't forget to match your equipment before every dive, otherwise there's a good chance you might die; if you exceed the limitations of your training, you will die. Caves are unforgiving, the book says. It is understandable that more precaution should be taken while cave diving, because you are in an enclosed environment, and if you are low on air or lost or have any other problem, you cannot just go straight up to the surface, but actually have to find your way out of the cave first. So all of this precaution results in introduction of some new items you carry underwater and the necessary redundancy for each. Two cavern reels (130-foot each) and reel markers on a D-clip on the lower left of my tank; a line cutter on my shoulder; two lights clipped to my chest; computer and pressure gauge in a different place than usual for a better "trim"; a slate with a pencil on my right wrist (you have to write down your air supply and time for every dive's in-turn-out points). I feel like an astronaut.

Seven full hours of training fly like minutes. It is so much fun! I first learn to run the line on land, tying it off between the trees, and then spooling it back, careful - but not always successful - not to jam the reel. It is not easy! Then, we go into the water. Open water drills first - in the lake part of the cenote - and cavern drills next. Rinse, repeat. For the first time during this trip I'm NOT cold underwater. Apparently, task loading helps you stay warm or simply takes your mind off you being cold. Running the line is amazing. When I get a hang of it and stop jamming the reel or slacking the rope all the time, I find it very meditative. I feel new appreciation for Moirae's tough job. It is also quite interesting to notice how introducing new tasks disturbs your established routine, forcing you to suck in the areas that you've seemingly mastered. For example, my buoyancy control in the open water is really good by now. But when I try to swim with my eyes closed while holding onto the line with my right hand and protecting my face with my left arm (you are supposed to do it in a windshield wiper-like motions so that you don't hit some rocks with your face in low visibility conditions), I immediately start to sink down and have to constantly adjust my BC, careful not to disturb any silt on the cavern floor. That doesn't frustrate me though. I know that as always, it's all a matter of practice, and by the end of the day, a reward - I feel comfortable. And very happy!

Exhausted, at 5Pm, we come back. Playa del Carmen is so different from Cozumel. For some reason, Cozumel is a destination of choice for the Americans, while Playa is more European (as clearly displayed by ashtrays in all the restaurants). Another difference is peace and quiet of Cozumel vs constant buzz of Playa. Their Fifth Avenue is really little different from its New York's counterpart. People, people, people EVERYWHERE! I'm "un"used to it already. I realize why this whole scene bothers me. All of a sudden, I feel the pressure of "being on vacation", of this need to immediately enjoy something, otherwise you'll waste your precious free time. For the past month and a half I've spoiled myself enough with the new notion of time, and almost convinced myself that "time doesn't exist" and you have as much of it as you can possibly want. Ferry doesn't come on time? Who cares, there will be another one. You miss your dive day because you didn't wake up early enough to make it to the boat? No problem, there will be another day. An endless sequence of other days... But here, in Playa, the crowds of tourists remind me of where I really come from, and almost mold me back into the NYC time attitude. But I don't give in, and all I do is walk around a little, find a nice Thai restaurant, and have yummy teriyaki noodles for dinner.

Life is just moments. Time does NOT exist. As a bonus for my time-free spirit, I get another heart-image... on the toilet door of this Thai restaurant.