Scuba Archives - Page 2 of 3 -

Sea of Cortez–Part Three

By Simone Lipscomb | July 30, 2015

Monday July 20th

We are motoring south. The engine started at 4am. It’s 7am and we are still near Angel de la Guarda. Two seal gulls are riding on the bow of a panga. A nice way to travel from one place to the next if you are a bird…a smart bird.

The mountain that is this island is persistent in its beauty. More gradual slopes toward the sea on this eastern side of it but still very craggy and tall. Unbelievably tall. The color of rock is more even here with red standing out strongly. There is some striation but not the rainbow colors of the mountains yesterday.

As we draw closer to the southernmost tip of Angel de la Guarda its massive face affects me deeply. Again I am struck with awe…to my core. There is a V in the face that reminds me of open arms.

We move closer and it feels as if we will be consumed by this beautiful mountain. I need to go eat breakfast but find myself unable to leave my perch on the deck. I watch the massive mountain come closer and closer.

Stones and dust fade into wrinkles and colors of earth, sacred Earth, whose face is marked with smile lines created when She laughs at wind, sea lions frolicking and tides kissing Her beautiful self.

These bones bake in the sun and cleanse me in Her reflective glow. Her white-chalk, pock-marked bones are whiter still from nesting shore birds. Red, pink, salmon, rust, orange, roughened, weathered, ragged by forces beyond control…lay bare these bones.

Layers and layers of color and texture open to elemental forces so powerful only mountains such as this could behold them and manage a wrinkled grin.

The vast, ragged peaks stretch all around me. At first glance they are barren in red, rust and white-stained splendor yet upon closer observation the details emerge. Green patches of life exist in this magical place following lines of finely-ground particles of rock. Tufts of tender, determined vegetation cling to fissures and slides and their roots go deep causing even more breakdown of hard substrate, creating a welcoming home for their offspring. Whether they consciously plan for the future or it it is just the genius of their living matters not.

Only 36 hours after torrential rains fell and already the mountain slopes grow greener. By the hour, these rugged, rocky slopes become robed in verdant softness.

Could it be that I, too, soften as my dry bones greedily suck nourishment from the life-giving waters and the blue heart of the Sea?

A sea lion barks the entire second dive and I learn that they can bark underwater…incessantly. Like a controlling man bellowing at his wife, the males are very protective and territorial with their harem of females. When a female or two escapes his control to play with us I am as happy for the free sea lions as I am for myself witnessing their agile playfulness.

The faces of the female pinnipeds are so sweet. I roll and play underwater and the more I play, the more playful they become. I think how lucky they are that few humans come here to spoil the pristine and peaceful place…and how lucky I feel to be one of the few given the chance to frolic with them.

I’m in the panga now with Juleo…the small-boat captain…while divers are on the night dive. The canopy of stars is brilliant with no light pollution. The Milky Way is breathtaking and grows steadily brighter as the sky darkens. Layers and layers of stars shine like gemstones flickering with stellar fire.

The sea is mostly quiet and still so the black water mirrors the sky as tiny phosphorescent dots drift on the surface. Greenish globs extend into the dark water until they merge with the glade of the crescent moon and disappear into its brilliance.

Nearby the exhalation of a sea lion catches my attention and my heart as she swims around the panga looking at us. Sweet words pour from my heart as I send love her way.

It may take a while to understand how this magnificent sky of stars and galaxies will change me, but without a doubt it will. I feel it deeply in my bones.

The small rock reaching from the sea floor to the heavens, frosted white with bird droppings, is only a silhouette against the setting moon. I, too, reach for the heavens and with a grateful heart bid goodnight to the Sea, stars, moon, krill and sea lions. Sleep well dear ones.

——

Sea of Cortez–Part One

Sea of Cortez–Part Two

Sea of Cortez…Part One

By Simone Lipscomb | July 28, 2015

Friday and Saturday…July 17th & 18th

If the sky from Pensacola to Atlanta on the evening flight can predict how spectacular the trip to the Sea of Cortez will be, I can relax. The towering clouds of red and orange are magnificent and perhaps the most amazing sunset sky I have ever witnessed. But I am paying close attention to my ears as there is still the lingering respiratory bug caught on a flight from Bonaire just two weeks ago. If my ears won’t clear I cannot dive…on a dive trip.

I like to space my trips out but this opportunity came up and I turned it down twice before a woman cancelled and another spot opened so how could I say, “No.” When things happen like this I just go with it and trust that I’m making the right choice.

The midnight arrival (Pacific time) at my Phoenix hotel room makes me crave sleep but the internal clock awakens me far too early. I feel miserably tired and like the cold virus caught a deeper hold in my immune system from lack of rest. In meditation this morning I relax and visualize my body healing with blue-white light.

Breakfast, lunch and then time to catch the shuttle to Rocky Point, Mexico.

The journal comes out as the shuttle passes through the Sonoran Desert of Arizona…and Mexico. This place of desert inspires solitude, a deepening of the inner experience of quiet. The elemental energies of wild places call to me.

Why do I like the desert so? Perhaps because there is no place to hide, a person is totally exposed. The desert drys the bodies of wildlife, cactus, humans until there is only white bone left…and that also disappears eventually.

In the distance, a streak of lightning hits near the mountain. Dark, blue-black clouds hang near the earth bringing life-giving water to the thirsty desert. Or floods.

Can’t hide in a desert, there’s so much light. Shining so strong, Oh, so bright. Lay bare these bones.

Let the storm winds blow ancient dust, where I have been buried, to the four directions. Lightning strike the mountain and bring down the rocky fortress that has been my protection, my prison. Sheets of rain release me from this grave of fear. Lay bare these bones so I might quench my thirst as I drink in the fullness of life.

Dry river beds…geometries of water and currents…swishes and bumps, last remnants of carved sand and stone. Spires reaching toward heaven, eroded from centuries of wind and water. Etched and worn. I feel like that today.

Arrival at the marina creates chaos…loading gear and casting off from land. People are in frenzy-mode setting up dive gear, camera gear. The rushing and intensity of this makes me want to crawl up on a warm rock and bake in the sun in solitude. Instead I find myself nearly tossed off my bunk from heavy seas. I set up only dive gear I might not even be able to use. Clothes are in drawers. Underwater camera equipment still locked in the hard case, unassembled and still in multiple pieces. I feel like that….little bits and pieces.This is not a nice sea this night. It is bumpy with waves over six feet and torrential rains and lightning.

I feel exhausted and unprepared for rough seas after being opened and laid bare by the Sonoran Desert.

What am I doing here? I feel exposed and the sea demands more. And it punches with heavy-handed blows and lightning that makes me yearn for safety. Somewhere around 3 a.m. I awaken to water pouring on my bunk and wonder if we are sinking. A quick trip down the hallway to the dive deck affirms we are still afloat and in a horrible storm.

The sea calls to the deepest, buried emotions within and they come out like the full force of the storm. I tell the Sea Mother, “You called and I showed up. What now?”

Tarpon Buzz and Turtle Love

By Simone Lipscomb | June 10, 2014

The sun set over the mountains far from our entry point. Golden sky glowed with lingering day as night descended.

Twilight found me slipping beneath the surface….again. Into the turquoise water that appeared gray as light faded until my bright light illuminated it.

Small silver flashes zoomed past as I slowly kicked into the deep. Nighttime on the reef…a time of rest for some and action for others.

Not long into the dive a large hawksbill sea turtle was spotted foraging for food. We directed our lights away from it so it wouldn’t be blinded but another diver started shining his light directly on the turtle and began chasing it. Of course this lead to me kicking into high gear–quite literally–out of my relaxed blissful, happy place and I begin flashing his face. He didn’t stop until I intercepted and was about to grab his arm and direct the light away from the turtle. I felt molten lava stir within as this endangered species was harassed by a careless diver.

Once the turtle was safely moving on without the spotlight, my dive buddy and I moved away from the group and found in front of us another hawksbill, a bit smaller, and so we hid our lights so as not to reveal her presence. We floated in the dark, gray ocean, barely able to see the outline of the turtle as we stayed between it and the other diver who was still searching for the original turtle. With loving hearts we fiercely protected our sea turtle friend.

After turning around and going into the shallower sand flat, tarpon began hunting with our lights. We came into contact with several other divers who were photographing and videoing the frenzy of these large, silver fish indulging in some easy dinners. We broke away from the crowd and swam on but had gotten just past the mosh pit of people when I felt a rush by my right side as a huge tarpon buzzed past me, using my bright cave light as a feeding beam.

The rush of such an animal, over five feet in length with shiny, silver plate-like scales and large eyes, zooming past me barely missing my side was wild. I knew he was going to come back yet each time he buzzed me I squealed into my regulator. We played a game of hunt the fish with Simone’s light. I loved every minute of it. It’s quite possible my face hurt from smiling so much while trying to hold the regulator in my mouth.

I sit propped up in bed now, yet still underwater moving and flowing with gentle surge. Nearly four hours were spent beneath the surface, communing with the Ocean and many creatures that live within Her. It was a dive of strong emotions….feeling protective, feeling ecstatically playful and mostly feeling immense love for all life. Oh…and grateful. Very grateful.

Bob Marley Speaks

By Simone Lipscomb | June 8, 2014

Dawn. I was walking with my scuba gear to the Ocean. As I approached the entry, an osprey cried and I glanced up. Just above the dive benches was the magnificent fish hawk perched in a tree. He flew out over the water as I continued walking. I’ve seen them many times but never perched on a tree…over the bench I was about to use. Pretty big smile to carry into the dive.

Nice dive, beautiful fish, easy 54 minutes of gentle kicking and gliding and watching life on the reef begin the day. No other human here, just the Ocean and this mermaid-woman hybrid. And today I went further, to an area where elk horn coral ‘trees’ are being used to grow this coral species. I felt resounding H O P E throughout my being. There are people that care, that are taking action to help. Another smile with my entire being.

During the time underwater I thought of a former dive buddy and smiled at the saltwater happiness we experienced in years past. My heart and mind sent him gratitude and love, that energy that never dies or changes…only grows and deepens as compassion grows within us. Heart happy goodness, a smiling heart for this human sea-creature.

Photo from the internet....don't know who to credit with it. — *Photo from the internet….don’t know who to credit with it.*

After the dive, as I was walking back to the condo…still dripping with sea water and lost in the peaceful feeling of saltwater baptism…I saw two bright yellow birds wearing bright, orange caps. The saffron finches watched me walk up to the sidewalk where they were perched and so I stopped and greeted them. They stared at me in my state of saltwater sogginess and gave me a message as we connected for several moments.

At the time I didn’t really know what it was they were telling me, but a few minutes later I got it. Even though Bob Marley sang of three little birds, that’s the song that came to mind and reminded me of the sweetness of life…in this moment…in the present. Now.

“Don’t worry about a thing, ‘Cause every little thing gonna be alright. Singin’: Don’t worry about a thing, ‘Cause every little thing gonna be alright. Rise up this morning, smile with the risin’ sun, ‘two’ little birds, Each by my doorstep singing’ sweet songs, of melodies pure and true saying’ this is my message to you…don’t worry about a thing. ‘Cause every little thing gonna be alright.”

There is hope within this mermaid woman today….for all life, for every living thing. So today, as I welcomed the day in my saltwater way, I smiled with the risin’ sun and it has been shining all day long within me.

Note: Many of you have asked me about the solo scuba diving I do. I wanted to write a tiny bit about that…first, I am an instructor and whenever I’m with students, especially new students, I’m basically solo diving with the added responsibility of whoever is with me. Secondly, I am certified as a self-reliant/solo diver. Third, as a sidemount certified cave diver I am basically solo diving in the cave (with other people present of course) because of the way my gas supply is configured. And lastly, I have hundreds of dives and use my cave diving ‘rules’ when solo diving…I turn the dive when I reach thirds so I have two-thirds of my gas supply to return on, etc. And I always dive shallow enough to do a controlled emergency swimming ascent to the surface if necessary. I do NOT condone solo diving and always, always encourage divers to keep in practice and get instruction for new kinds of dives. A solo diver must be well-equipped in underwater navigation skills and self-rescue skills….etc. So please do NOT go off on your own as a scuba diver unless you have extensive dive experience and proper training.

Magic of Submersion

By Simone Lipscomb | May 21, 2014

All focus comes to the breath. The feeling of freedom comes with a cost of being on life support. The metal tank cinched snugly to my body, the array of hoses and regulators each contributing their role to my underwater experience.

Amid fish and corals, sea turtles and respectful divers the true meaning of home is experienced. The Mother and I are reunited once more.

Her salt pulses through sister turtle’s body and mine as well. Such stillness…such openness. Peace. Home…..Freedom.