Snorkeling with potato chips

We had originally booked a snorkeling trip for Wednesday, but had to postpone it to give Jett a day to recover.  That turned out to be a good move as Wednesday was mostly cloudy but Thursday was impossibly sunny and clear.  I don’t think Massachusetts ever gets that sunny.  It was like someone had removed my eyeballs, polished them with a soft cloth and put them back. My sunglasses needed sunglasses.

We had snorkeled in Cozumel before, but as a tour from a cruise.  This one, booked through the hotel and leaving from the hotel dock, was both longer and less expensive than the other.  Given the beauty of the day and the low price, we decided to go all in and booked the 3-reef tour. We left at 12:50 – 20 minutes late because, the staff claimed, the boat had had a flat tire.  In charge was “Skinny Winnie” – a rotund jolly man (yes, if he grew a beard he would make a wonderful Mexican Santa) who proved to be talented as both a free diver and mixologist,

Our first stop – and the only reef whose name I remember – was Columbia.  The bottom was 40 or 50 feet below the surface, but the coral formations were towering and in some cases had peaks just 10 feet beneath the surface.  The colors were spectaular, the water was crystal clear and the fish were plentiful.  I found myself wishing, for the first time in a long time, that I was in my scuba gear so that I could inspect these formations more closely.

I also found myself wishing that I had brought an underwater camera.  I didn’t take one this time because the pictures on my previous trips were underwhelming – gray panels with vague shapes and maybe a spot or two of color, like something a very depressed Mondrian might produce.  But I think I would have gotten some nice shots on this trip.  Damn.

Sometimes fish are scarce.  I have done snorkel trips where very few fish were seen.  On this trip I put my face in the water and was startled to find a fish staring back at me, within arm’s reach.  Some chum may have been tossed in the water to attract them as I noticed pickish particles floating around, but the fish seemed more interested in the people than the food. Inquisitive little buggers.

The second reef ended in a cliff, dropping off to over 100 feet.  Snorkeling always produces a “flying” feeling, but swimming over the edge of the cliff made me feel like I was heading toward Europe.  Which I was, I guess… just a few thousand more miles to go.

The third stop was a sand bar.  The booze had started to flow by this point and it got a little weird here.  We all got into the water (except Jett who stayed on board to keep out of the sun). Skinny Winnie joined us, holding a bag filled with bags of potato chips and towing a boogie board loaded with mixed drinks and cans of beer.  We stood on the sandbar, chomping on potato chips and drinking.  Just to say I did it, I put my face in the water and kicked a bit, holding my can of beer and my bag of chips out of the water.  Snorkling with potato chips.  Another first for Sparky.

We had one more stop at a reef that sported LOTS of huge starfish.  And a few sand dollars (or are they sand pesos in Mexico?).  It was unlike any spot I have ever seen before.  Surreal.  But I was getting tired, so I stayed just a few minutes.

The trip back to the hotel was surreal in a different way.  Skinny Winnie convinced a suprisingly large percentage of these married, middle-class parents on Mexican holiday that this would be a good time to do tequila body shots.  So Jett and I got to watch (because we most certainly did not participate) couples licking lime juice off of each others’ thighs and sucking tequila out of their navels.  What would their kids think if they could see them so engaged?  I think at 15 I would have thrown up.  If a few of the photos taken that day get to Facebook, families will be destroyed.

One of the couples on that trip went on a pirate trip the next day.  They said it got even weirder… some woman, traveling with husband and family and under the influence of too much tequila, tried to limbo in a short dress and thong panties.  Most of the paying customers got a crotch shot that they really didn’t want.

Mexico makes people crazy.