September, 2005

It is almost light,  5:30 AM,  80 degrees,  I am driving across the Bridge of the Americas, jamming on some soul music, my truck is loaded with all my dive toys and I am excited to be off on another spearfishing adventure.  I even found a dive buddy a couple of days ago, but from what little I know, I think that it is probably not someone I could count on to save me in an emergency. I don’t not know if I am on my way to meet a dive buddy or a dive bomb.

    Lis had called a couple of days before from the other end of Panama regarding my newspaper ad for a housekeeper that could swim.  She spoke perfect English, had some time and said that she would like to join me on the dive trip.  She would ride the bus four hours one way,  I would drive four hours from the other direction and we would meet half way.  She would jump out of the bus and into my truck and BAM—- instant dive buddy.  But she was not exactly experienced – in fact, she had Never been in the ocean before, had never used mask fins or snorkle, and had not one piece of equiptment. Looks like another new adventure coming my way.

    At our meeting point I was greeted by a cute, smiling girl, with short curly hair, no make up, jeans and just a small back pack.  My immediate thought was “everything looks O. K. to me, who cares if she can’t swim”. She told me her first thought, when she saw me alight for the truck and she saw my earring and crystal beads,  was, “I’m glad I have plenty of money to get back on the bus if this doesn’t work out.”

    So off we went, and I was totally stoked to have a cute companion for the trip and someone that I could communciate with so easily.  Lis had finished at the University in Panama and had worked five years in Canada and was back home with her parents awaiting her Canadian residency papers. She had time on her hands and, from traveling, the self assurance to join up with a Gringo Space Man for an adventure into the unknown. We stopped along side the road and picked some mangos for our dive trip the next day, bought ice and gas and then we we got a great motel room for $20 a night.  I gave her a short course on diving late into the night but there was no hanky-panky,  just sharing some of the things we divers take for granted but that she needed to know about the new ocean world she was about to enter.

    Conditions have a lot to do with how someone enjoys their first ocean experience and unfortunately they were far from perfect today. As we headed out in the panga to one of my favorite spots six miles out in open ocean it was windy and rough but it did not seem to faze Lis.  She seemed comfortable until the boat driver said this was one of his favorite fishing places also, and Lis asked him for what kind of fish. When he said “sharks” he blew my story about nothing to be afraid of.  But my brave, new, dive buddy still agreed to get in the water after I assured her it was safe and that I would hold her hand. For the first ten or fifteen minutes I could barely get a breath because Lis was trying to climb on my back and she did not want to put her face in the water and maybe see the imaginary monster. I finally got her off my back by telling her to stretch out, float, breathe and put her face in the water. Of course in over 100 feet of water she can’t see the bottom, the water is murky and her imagination is going warp speed. We have all been there at one time. But after a few passes over the high sport I can point out some of the bait fish and rainbow runners and this grabs her interest enough to let her relax. I am really disappointed to have such bad conditions for her first time and also the diving is terrible. After a couple of hours she gets relaxed enough to release the death grip on my hand and watch me drop out of sight into the gloom. I manage to shoot a nice sierra for dinner then I remembered it is not fun to be left by yourself, floating on the surface in dirty water on your first day in the ocean.  When I came back up and took her hand I realized Lis was scared to death, but still not complaining—a very brave muchacha.  After checking a couple of other places we finally had to accept the fact that this was not the day to be diving, and with a swell coming, our plans for two or three days at sea just got cancelled.

    Back at the motel, after a tasty sierra dinner, we had a great de-briefing. Now that she was safe, Lis could articulate her emotions and impressions of her first contact with mother ocean and most of us could recall having some of the same fears and trepidations.  She rightly felt proud about what she had done, (survived) and I explained that with a little training and better conditions she would have a lot more fun.

    It was time to take Lis back and drop her off for the bus trip home but I had a chance to turn her on to one more new experience. We stopped at a vista point at the top of a mountain where I usually like to shoot rockets off but the rocket store was closed. Another thing Lis had never done was shoot a gun.  So I got out the pistol, explained how it worked, set up some bottles, opened the doors to my truck and cranked up some great soul music to dance to —- then while we danced slow and close, I told her to fire over my shoulder at the bottles.  As I held her close and danced with my new dive buddy de luxe, while she fired away with the pistol over my shoulder, I marveled at what an unexpected turn this spearfishing trip had taken for both of us. It was a great dive trip – almost no fish, bad conditions, wind and dirty water, but the unexpected gift was being lost in space with my new dive buddy de luxe. I felt like a teenager, enchanted by her bravery, her enthusiasm, low maintance, and her adventuresome spirit. Though I told Lis I had some plans for a long range trip in my panga in a couple of weeks and needed a buddy,  when I kissed her goodby at the bus stop, I never expected to see her again.

    I returned to Panama and a few days later another list member, whom I had never met, Bruce Mock, showed up with his wife Paola and his brother Logan ready for a trip to Coiba. We had a great time hunting wahoo and it was nice to be diving again instead of teaching, and to have clear water. I had a big wahoo come directly at me on the surface and instead of giving me a broadside, he decided to go straight under me. I had trouble bringing my gun to bear, as the move was unexpected, but I squeezed off the shot and grazed his backbone. He still had full power but zero control and went round and round me on the surface at high speed, with great splashing and commotion, and with the spear sticking straight up out of the water. The sight was pretty amazing. The wahoo weighed a little over 100 lbs. so I was happy with this new personal best for me. I also managed to shoot a nice pargo negro at 50 feet which is way too deep for me but I stoned him. Though there were not many fish we all had a super time and I will probably see Bruce again in the dry season.

    When I got back to Panama I had an email from Lis that she was bored being at home in the country and if I was still interested, she would like to report for duty in Panama for training and a trip to Trollop. Trollop is an underwater bajo at the far end of the Perlas and it would be my first time to make the long, two hundred mile round trip in my panga.

    The two weeks of training were Lis’s first introduction into the physical world of exercise and water skills. It was hard for her starting at 0,  but being persistent, she slowly learned how to kick, clear her mask, tread water, float and start to move in three dimensions. Being comfortable on the surface was enough and she saw no reason to dive down. The relating and training were so intense that my dive buddy- housekeeper did not have time to keep house and I had to hire another girl to be housekeeper for the housekeeper. This gave us more time to swim and plan the Trip to Trollop.

    Lis, David and I started early, and with 100 plus gallons of gas in the panga,  we headed South. We were lucky that David, a young, strong local diver who had been to some of the areas before, could take time off work. To avoid a disasterous collision with the occassional logs in the water required attentive driving, so every hour of so we would trade off and at least one person could rest on the flat floor of the panga. Five of six hours later we got to a small, wild, uninhabited island where we decided to explore and stay the night. I had heard of big iguanas and wild bananas but instead we found a waterfall on the shore, diving boobies, a small, very steep, white sand beach and impenertrable jungle. The diving conditions were not great, like 30 feet of vis and we saw few gamefish. Cruising the shore with Lis however was another story and she could finally see the bottom and all the life. As usually happens, the enchantment with all that you are seeing crowds out your fear and for the first time you really become aware of the Ocean Kingdom.

    There was no protected anchorage so the night was not calm and peaceful. Also the lightening and thunder raged and were so close together timewise you knew it was very near. David was so tired and the weather so warm, that when the area where he was sleeping filled with water an inch and a half deep, he never woke up. Since Lis and I slept in the forward raised area and we all went to bed before it was dark, we still managed to get enough sleep.

    We reached Trollop the next morning after passing several humpbacks. We tried getting in front and jumping in the water for a close encounter but had no luck in the murk.  We knew from the bad vis of 25 or 30 feet that our hopes for wahoo were probably dead. We threw a marking buoy on the first high spot and the current sucked it down for two hours. So all we could do with the fast current was get two people in the water, try to get in one or two dives before you went over the ridge and then get picked up down current and repeat it again. We saw wahoo but too far and David managed to shoot a nice 50 plus pound bohala. Lis and I floated thru many times and she never got to see anything interesting. I shot one small fish and we decided that Trollop was not happening—not now anyway.  We came a long way for few fish but I realized this trip had been a good recon for my next adventure farther south where I need to go armed with more than a speargun.

    So it was back to the same island for another night of tossing seas, thunder and lightning and hoping we didn’t go on the rocks.  My dive buddy deluxe not only never complained, she didn’t want to sleep and miss the star show. We were almost out of ice and out of food so it was time to start back the next morning.

    Three hours into the trip back and my dive buddy deluxe finally got her first blessing from King Nepture— the freedivers dream—- crystal clear water and fish everywhere. I jumped in to check, looked down and saw two sixty pound bohala going by in 10 feet of water. I looked up and told Lis, this is the magic we have been looking for, jump in.  It was perfect, clear, warm, alive, shallow with huge bolders and everything was out eating in the current. It was one of the most spectacular of my ocean experiences to see so much life so close. Lis’s fear evaporated and I could hear her squealing with delight.  There was so much activity, so much energy, so much beauty that we could not take it all in.  I had no interest in shooting because I wanted to be part of this happening. Lis never thought she could do this, but my patience and effort combined with her persistence and enthusiasm had overcome her doubts and my Dive Buddy Deluxe was now receiving her anointment into the high office of freediver, friend and lover of Mother Ocean. We both felt grateful for this incredible experience knowing it could only be understood by those that have been there. Lis’s life will be changed and new worlds opened. In three short weeks my dive buddy de luxe went from pure terrestial being back to the place where she reconnected with her Piscis beginnings.  Unfortunately we only had time to make one drift through but the revelation was burned into our minds forever.

    As we lay on the floor of the panga on the way back to Panama the visions were still dancing in our heads.  I knew for sure my Dive Buddy De luxe had been finally ensnared by the magic, that we all know, when I heard her ask —————Dix, When Are You Going To Teach Me How To Dive Down To The Fish?  I smiled.

Dix Roper
     Sept 15th 2005
     dixroper@earthlink.net