A Coral Reef Adventure
Posted: Saturday, November 21, 2009
by Gregory Lewis
PopGnosis
The finer value of experience is in its sharing. There is, of course, the intrinsic value of experience, which makes it important to our self. A particularly intrinsically valuable experience adds to our self-preservation repertoire. But, normally the enjoyment we derive from an experience is amplified when we get to share it with others who respond in a positive way.
That was the first time I got sea sick, an experience that just can't be appreciated if you've never had it, except perhaps by trying to simulate it with a half gallon of whiskey. Even years afterward I would get sea sick just thinking about going on a boat. I have actually cancelled fishing trips after getting sea sick by imagining myself getting on a boat.
As the years passed I have mostly grown out of my conditioned sea sickness. In the past 12 years I have found myself on several boat trips. One of those is where I first fell in fascination with the Florida Keys, where I now reside. The waters were smooth as glass, and I learned to continuously pump ginger into my belly, before, during and after the voyage to alleviate queasiness. Dried ginger candy and ginger ale are palatable alternatives to over the counter medications. The resulting experience was a very positive one.
On the Pacific coast, when you look over the side of a boat the ocean is deeply mysterious and foreboding. Being a temperate sea, it is obscured by green algae. Jellyfish appear from nowhere like ephemeral dream figures. You look down, and can only imagine what is lurking in the misty depth.
A couple days ago I had the opportunity to nurse my phobia on a boat trip to the reef. This wasn't my dad's boat, this was a newish 33-foot Century, with twin 250 horse power Yamaha engines and a captain who knew his way around the Keys. He took me and a friend out to Looe Key Reef, which is like an island that doesn't quite rise to the surface. At low tide there's about two feet of water over the "island." On the way out, the water became bluer than the blue Florida sky. It was like looking into the clearest aquamarine gem stone, with an emerald cut. A spare sandy bottom was mottled with patches of coral.
We docked on a mooring ball, which is a permanently fixed buoy around Looe Key. Other boats were there as well. Looe Key is a popular national wildlife refuge, where catching fish, touching coral or even standing on the bottom is forbidden. The first mate pointed to a big fish directly below our boat. I thought it was a nurse shark at first, but it turned out to be goliath grouper.
"Is that grouper going to swallow me whole?" I asked the captain. A workmate from years ago told me a story about a diver who was swallowed by a goliath grouper. I don't know if it was true or not.
"Nah, you're bigger than him," answered Captain Robin.
I put on my fins, mask and snorkel (I'm not certified for a tank) and without further ado, fell backwards into the water. My first vision was an enormous fish, the size of a big sheep, staring face to face with me. I wasn't nervous. Well, maybe a little. Would this thing try to suck me in? Are goliath groupers friendly?
It wasn't a menacing fish, and we stayed close to one another for the time I was in the water. He was interested in the shade of the boat, and I was interested in staying near the boat. The water was crystal clear. At about 30 feet deep, I could see everything! Straight down were coral hedges. Brain corals, branch corals, elk horn corals. Around me were hundreds of fish, mostly yellow tail snappers. They would normally be something I fished for. Did they know I am fond of the taste of their flesh? Would the fish get even with me?
Straight down, directly below me a reef shark cruised the sandy bottom. This wasn't a nurse shark, but one of its toothier cousins. I kept a good eye on it for several minutes, but realized it wasn't interested in me, so I resumed looking around. The visibility was so good it was like swimming in a swimming pool. Even though Robin told me the water would be cold without a wet suit, I went in without, and the temperature was a very pleasant 78 degrees Fahrenheit.
As I turned around, a school of little yellow and black striped pilot fish swam within inches of my facemask, casting a curious eye at me on their way by. When they passed, there was a rather large great barracuda only a few feet away from me. She was like a silver plated torpedo, with an impressive set of dentures. I know divers who are nervous about barracudas, but this was a well behaved cuda, and if it came too close, I would have swam toward it to shoo it away.
I would like to have stayed in the water forever, but the chop was getting a little more than my stomach could handle. In fact, I was wondering if I might have to vomit in the water, so I climbed back into the boat. Meanwhile, Robin and my friend were swimming the bottom toward another boat.
When the divers returned, we left the reef and motored back to the harbor, where we made one more stop for lobsters. My Florida lobster stamp allows me to catch six lobsters per day. Between three of us, we caught 15. Over the lobster casserole I made that evening, I reflected on my adventure. The ocean is still a mysterious place, but in the sub tropics it's not so dark and foreboding. You have a clear view of what's coming or going.
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Top-level comments on this article: (2 total)Enjoyable article and I'm envious of your boating and diving in such beautiful waters. I boat the Great Lakes and as nice as they are--they're not the Keys. I've never experienced sea sickness but I never heard about ginger to help deal with it--I'll pass that tip around to some friends.Please log in to respond to this comment.
Enjoyed the article very much Gregory.BlessingsPlease log in to respond to this comment.
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