Liquid Blue; Living Underwater, Cozumel, Mexico

Dear Fellow Diver,

"I collect rainwater. I can let you have some if you want."

The owner of Liquid Blue Diving, Steve Michels, had picked up our gear at our hotel and was driving my partner and me to the Mega store to buy bottled water. While generous, the thought of filling plastic bottles with rainwater and carting them back to our room in the luxe El Presidente didn't fill us with longing, so we let it pass. "That's OK." he said, "I'm meeting friends for golf. Ever since they closed the golf course, we have played in the street."

"You hit golf balls down the street in San Miguel? Don't the neighbors complain if you hit their house with golf balls?"

"Nah. We use tennis balls."

We had arrived in Cozumel for ten days of chilling and diving, although chilling wasn't in the mid-October forecast. At 2 PM, it was 90 degrees with 90 percent humidity. Due to scheduling problems, we split our dive time between Liquid Blue and Living Underwater. We hung by the pool the first day to shake off the indignities of a 3:30 AM wake-up call and 6:00 AM departure from Newark.

Liquid Blue's sole dive boat, the Bonita Luna, set up for eight divers and two crew, pulled into our hotel dock at 8.00 AM the next day. Our gear was rigged to 120 cu. foot steel tanks filled to 3,000 psi with 32 percent EANx, and our fins and masks were stowed under our seats. Steve had already checked our cards and logs, so divemaster Roberto briefed us on the boat. We were crushed to hear the best sites in the south, like Punta Sur and Maracaibo, were closed due to high winds. And San Francisco and Santa Rosa reefs were subjected to the intermittent closure by the Marine Park to stop the advance of Stony Coral Tissue Loss Disease (SCTLD). The lack of recovery has led the Marine Park to admit the closures were just to allow the reefs to rest from the daily presence of hundreds of divers. So, it was a short ride to our first dive at Punta Tunich.

After rolling in and descending to the sand to meet Roberto, we and the other two divers headed to the reef, where a blacktip reef shark patrolled. I usually wear a 3mm suit and a 3mm hooded vest, but in the 86°F water, I was almost sweating.

In the pre-dive briefing, Roberto instructed us to stay behind him, but for some reason, in the current, I always wound up in front. Roberto swam up to me and gestured to me to stay with the group. (I don't particularly appreciate being grabbed underwater). He found a couple of splendid toadfish and a large green moray lurking under a coral head. Porkfish sifted the sand while schools of yellow-lined grunts huddled under coral. I paused to search for critters in healthy brown tube and branching vase sponges before being swept along the reef. The maximum depth was only 67 feet, and after an hour, I went up to a mandatory 5-minute safety stop, handed up my gear, and ascended a long, wide ladder.

After a 70-minute SIT spent in the boat munching granola bars and fruit and sipping water from plastic bottles, we rolled in at Chankanaab.

While Roberto was poking around coral heads, finding another toadfish and a small spotted moray, I decided to stop looking for eagle rays and peered into several sea plumes, spying a tiny fringed filefish hiding in the blades. Nearby, as I passed a nest of damsel fish eggs, the mama sent me on my way with a nip on my ankle. A bait ball of yellow-lined grunts hovered at the edge of the 100-foot visibility. While hanging at 15 feet, four barracudas came by to check me out.

While the rule was not to descend below the group, it was no problem because the deep sites were off-limits. We had no time limit but were to notify Roberto when we hit 700 psi. Gas hogs could surface independently, provided they had an SMB, which meant that while the group continued to drift, the captain was helping the surfacing diver, and nobody was at the helm. With most boats carrying only two staff members, this is fairly common in Cozumel.

When looking for a new dive shop before we departed, we considered Punta Sur Divers. Their two-tank nitrox dive is $106, as opposed to $124 for Liquid Blue. After paying a reservation fee, I was told that since I take blood pressure meds, I had to complete a lengthy medical form and get a doctor's letter to dive. I'd never had this problem before, although the October and November issues of Undercurrent made it clear this is something we superannuated sub-aqua mariners had better get used to. This time, it seemed like an indignity. I asked for our deposit back, and Punta Sur gladly refunded it.

On their website, Liquid Blue seemed to tick all the boxes. Towels, jackets, snacks, first aid, DAN oxygen, complimentary large tanks (in addition to standard 80s), and small groups. They generally offer two dives daily with the possibility of a night dive. They would rinse and store our gear, including wet suits, which few operations do. I did not visit the dive shop; it was in San Miguel at the owner's house. The boat could use a little TLC. The paint is chipped, and there was grime in the seams between the floor mats. Several of the tanks were rusty and missing inspection stickers.

I like to board the dive boat tucked into my rubberwear and ready to go. The next day, Liquid Blue delayed our pickup time to accommodate customers from a cruise ship. 10:15 became 10:45 while we steamed in our wet suits. If they had picked us up at 8:00 as usual, we could have had an early dive and spent our SIT waiting for the new folks. I chucked the hooded vest for a simple hood and took two pounds off my weight belt, leaving four lbs. My aluminum back plate weighs two lbs., and I carry a Nautilus radio, buddy line, trauma shears, and a DAN safety kit, so you can't judge all my weight by what's on my belt.

At Paseo de Cedral, I saw a lot of algae and evidence of SCTLD on the brain corals. Two juvenile black tips stayed at the edge of my vision. We gathered around a coral head to view a five-foot nurse shark that eventually swam away, circled back, and glared balefully at me as it passed underneath me while I floated three feet off the bottom. Nearby, a long green moray gaped. Three brilliant Queen angels stayed close while brunching on sponges, and a large honeycomb cowfish flashed psychedelic colors.

My partner had continual problems with her new mask leaking. Continually having to press her mask to her face caused a nasty mask squeeze and burst capillaries in her left eye, painting the cornea an alarming shade of red. Captain Rogelio docked at the Paradise Beach Club, and she took a cab to the DAN-recommended hospital CostaMed, where she received an eye drop prescription and was advised to stay out of the water until her eye cleared.

We three remaining divers gathered on the bottom at Yucab and again found coral loss. Roberto signaled to us to stay together and ascended to the boat to swap out the tank he had forgotten to swap for a full one during our SIT. There wasn't much current and not much going on, fish-wise. An oversized hermit crab in a horse conch crept along, and a huge porcelain crab tried to hide in a reef hole. As noted in the November Undercurrent, with so much algae on the reefs, maybe they could benefit from a population of Caribbean king crabs to chew the reefs back into health. If nobody eats them.

In the pre-dawn darkness the next day, palm fronds rattled in the wind. Whitecaps chopped above a darker sea, and the winds forced the harbormaster to close down diving. So, we indulged in the buffet breakfast, which we don't do when diving. I snarfed up crisp bacon and used a hot croissant to mop up fried eggs before tucking into a fruit compote. My partner sensibly stuck to yogurt, fruit, grains, and amazing local honey. Afterward, we tried to laze by the pool, but the wind was so strong the staff couldn't open the umbrellas, and we cowered under a palapa on the swimming beach until the afternoon sun chased us.

We've been to the Presidente at least once a year since 2015. There's not much employee turnover, and the staff always greets us like long-lost family, especially the bartenders. Sun, salt, and storm have taken their toll, and it's time for an upgrade. The mattresses are too soft for my surgically repaired back, and our outdoor furniture cushions had spots of black mold. They are pricey and need to do better.

At the resort, we could happily dine daily at the Le Cap Beach Club, with a menu of grilled fish and chicken, Catalan coca pizzas, steaks, sushi, and vegetarian dishes. We usually save one night for steak at the Alfredo di Roma Trattoria and their fine selection of Spanish and, yes, Mexican wines. A visit to La Choza in San Miguel is always required for their excellent chicken mole and veggie fajitas. We tried the new Sereno on the fourth floor of a small strip mall on the southern end of town, where we bid the sun adios with Campari spritzes and high-end margaritas and scooped up herb-roasted carrots, veggies tacos, and an Argentinian pepperoni pizza so spicy it took off the roof of my mouth.

The winds did not abate, and our time with Liquid Blue was used up. When things settled down, we joined Living Underwater for our final diving days. Owner Jeremy Anschel now uses a Pro Ear Dive Mask so he can occasionally join his divers in the water again. He says it helps him clear and prevents the reverse blockages that had kept him out of the water.

Living Underwater caters to a maximum of eight divers/snorkelers, and passengers. However, they don't mix divers and snorkelers unless it's a family. They provide 85, 95, and 120 steel tanks and offer two morning dives. A three-tank adventure day and night dives are available if four people sign up. He has a motley mix of various manufacturers' gear for rent equipment. Before you visit, you email him your C-card and insurance cards.

On finally flat seas, Jeremy's boat, the 33-foot Jewfish, headed to Palancar Caves. There are always three crew members aboard Jewfish. Even though we had dived there a dozen times, dive guide Pepe found passages in the labyrinth that were new to me. Lobsters huddled together in side chambers with glassy sweepers, but I saw no large fish other than a solo black grouper. Pepe is an excellent critter finder and always seems to locate baby peacock flounders or nudibranchs in the sand. During our SIT south of Palancar Beach, a salt water crocodile came over to check us out, so snorkeling didn't seem like a good idea, and we headed north to Dalila.

Dalila is, let's face it, a beginner's dive and lots of operations use it as a second dive. The sponge life seems healthy, and I saw four-eye and spotfin butterflies and the ubiquitous splendid toadfish, but nothing heart-pounding.

Then the winds returned, shutting down the port for two days, and we were down to one last diving day before our departure. We asked for deeper dives like Punta Sur, but even when the port is open, the winds in the south may make the trip uncomfortable at best and dangerously bumpy at worst. So, we rolled in at Colombia Normal, a pretty reef between the deep and shallow Colombia reefs. Pepe again led us into swim-throughs I had not visited before. I left the group and dropped down the wall to 102 feet, refreshing my skill of checking out the overhangs while inverted. We can go along at our pace, and divers who have demonstrated their skills can leave the group and go deeper. When the gas hogs run low, the divemaster puts up an SMB, and the hogs take their safety stop while the others complete their dives. Buddies are required with no time limits.

All the fish we missed on earlier dives seemed to congregate at Tormentos. The current zipped us northward past hundreds of oceanic triggers, a school of horse eye jacks, a half dozen barracudas, and even a bait ball of grunts. After 55 minutes, we continued to drift at 15 feet for our safety stop. The group had split up in the current, but the Jewfish was about 100 yards off and slid on over. We passed our gear to deck hand Roberto through a removable slot in the gunwale and climbed aboard. Shrugging into the after-dive parkas, I asked for a towel and found they were no longer offered. ¿Qué paso,, Jeremy? A large rinse tank that can be divided into four sections for cameras, masks, or separate sections for different diver's cameras was available.

A Cozumeleño fact of life is that the dive site you want may be closed, or if open, there could be a dozen boats on it. Ascending with one hand raised above your head is a good rule to follow in Coz. On several occasions, we came up to find ourselves surrounded by other boats. Divers have been hit by boats in Cozumel and seriously injured. Remember your open water training so you don't become a statistic.

-D.L.

Our undercover diver's bio: DL got his Open Water certification in New York in 1987, having failed a resort course in Jamaica due to a misunderstanding about the local flora . He added C-cards in Advanced OW, Rescue, Oxygen Management, Advanced EANx, while traveling to Caribbean, Mexico, Egypt,Hawaii, PNG, Australia, Bikini, and Fiji. He has dived the 200 foot deep Windjammer wreck in Bonaire on air six times, earning him the nickname "Old Twitchy."

Divers Compass: The flights from New York require a connection in Miami, Houston, Charlotte, or Dallas. It's impossible to arrive before 11.00 PM, so consider an overnight in one of the hubs for a next day early morning departure . . . . If you can avoid the Saturday-to-Saturday try and fly midweek, you will find the Immigration area pleasantly empty. . . . In October, our beachfront luxury room at El Presidente was $535/night, excluding tax and resort fees. . . . For the holiday season, it goes for $777. Try the classic room beginning at $332 . . . If you want to check out the reef closures before you set dates for your trip, click here https://www.aldora.com/sustainabilityandconservation. . . .Liquid Blue https://liquidbluedivers.com/diving . . . . Living Underwater https://living-underwater.com/pricing-packages