Cenote Dos Ojos: Jumping at shadows and not letting intrusive (dive) thoughts win

I’ve dove Dos Ojos a few times. I know that it’s a popular cenote with both snorkelers and scuba divers getting their first taste of cenote diving. For me, I happen to like Dos Ojos. Despite having a few dives in this particular cenote, I always find it an enjoyable dive.

This time around, it was the desire to do three cenote dives in one day that brought me back. Typically, when someone wants to do three cenote dives in a day, a dive shop will take you to the Dos Ojos park, where there are at least 4 other cenotes besides Dos Ojos all close by. Sometimes you’ll dive the Pit, sometimes el Jaguar. Today, the schedule was Nicte-Ha (at my request) followed by two dives at Dos Ojos.

By the time we arrived at the entrance to Dos Ojos for the second and third dives, numerous other divers were already there. During our second dive, we pass so many divers underwater that it feels a little like a busy thoroughfare. Their lights bring an artificial brightness and illuminate a vast swath of the cavern.

So the stark contrast on dive three, when we virtually had the whole cenote to ourselves, led to an eerie feeling. Suddenly, the over illumination is gone, leaving just my and my guide’s lights. Tiny fish swim across the light beam, casting large shadows and making me look for much larger fish. The rational part of my brain, the part that knows this dive, knows there are no large fish in here. But the irrational part, the part that likes to intensify my fears when the lights go out, says, “what if there is a larger fish in those snaking tunnels that cavern divers just aren’t supposed to go?” Realistically, I know that cavern divers aren’t supposed to go down those tunnels due to safety reasons. That enters true cave diving territory, and that requires a lot more training.

But the tiny fish continue to swim through the light beams, and on more than one occasion, an oversized shadow has me looking for the fish that cast it.

Deeper into the cenote, we find another entrance, one that a few other snorkelers have access to. While we are aware they are there, I’m not so sure they know we are. It’s very shallow at this spot, maybe 5 feet deep, and an insidious thought creeps into my mind. I could reach out and pinch this snorkeler, who may or may not know I’m here and who is getting a little close to kicking me from above. The thought entertains me for a moment: becoming a cave monster, that thing that lurks in the dark and grabs an unsuspecting tourist. But I keep my hands to myself, knowing full well that while I might find it funny, I’m equally sure they won’t.

By the time we surface, the area is almost clear of divers. Maybe one or two stragglers, but certainly not the large numbers we saw an hour ago. We slowly break down our gear and start to pack up before another diver points out that we have a very flat tire. In an impressive display of MacGyver-ism, my guide uses one of my tanks and my regulator hose to put enough air back in the tire to get us, at least, to a nearby auto shop. The drive on dirt roads out of the jungle is a cause of amusement, driving slowly so we don’t re-deflate the tire. I am unbothered by this development as it seems par for the course when having jungle adventures.

First Time Diving With Bull Sharks

The day is finally here.

It was moved originally — bad weather across the Yucatan forced the dive to be moved to my final day in Mexico. But it’s finally the day of the dive and I am giddy with anticipation. I arrive at the dive shop early, my enthusiasm getting the better of me and my desire to get out there as soon as possible clearly noticeable. My gear is ready, I’m in my wetsuit and I’m pacing the Playa del Carmen shore line while we wait for the other divers to show up.

The site is no more than a quick three minute boat ride from a beach in Playa — one has to wonder if the sunbathers even know that there are sharks maybe a couple hundred feet from them. But the fact they are there and we don’t hear about attacks shows how docile sharks can be. Even Bull Sharks.

Diving with Bulls has become more and more popular, so much so that it seems that diving has become somewhat regulated. Each dive shop in the area has a designated time to “drop.” If you miss your window. You’re SOL.

We jump in right at 9 A.M. Descending down the line we can see their silhouettes against the white sand. But, at least to me, there’s a lack of thrill. The adrenaline isn’t pumping like I thought it would be.

It’s more of a waiting game. We saw the bulls almost immediately but then they disappeared from our line of sight for 10 minutes — granted, the poor visibility did not help things. Even when they made close passes it was hard to see them. During the 37 minute dive, they only make a few passes, keeping to our periphery.

I’m not disappointed, per se, but I was expecting something . . . more? Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the dives and I enjoyed seeing bull sharks for the first time but it felt few and far between. I would love to dive this again, maybe under better weather circumstances.

Casa Cenote: Searching for Panchito

Just before coming down to Mexico, I learned that at certain cenotes it’s possible to swim with Mexican crocodiles. Years ago, this wouldn’t be something I would’ve ever considered doing, but now, I’m intrigued by the idea.

Knowing that I have days of cenote diving ahead, I ask my dive guide if it’s possible to switch the location of one of them, hoping to get the chance to dive with Panchito — a Mexican crocodile frequently sighted at popular cenote. The guide agrees and knows that it’s because I really want to see the crocodile.

The cenote itself, Casa Cenote, is beautiful and popular. Both for divers and snorkelers. The cenote isn’t deep, and there are very few overhangs, meaning snorkelers can move around freely and divers who might be nervous about an overhead environment still have the chance to experience cenote diving. The colors, too, are truly incredible. Hit the place at the right time of day and the sunbeams dance in the water creating a magical effect.

About halfway through the dive, we surface to check and see if Panchito is hanging out. Turns out, she is! The moment I see her, my breath catches. Not from fear, but from awe. She is beautiful to witness in person.
As I slowly approach her I sense no agitation. No aggression. She’s peaceful. Of course, I approach slowly and cautiously. I don’t want to spoke her or make her feel threatened and illicit a bad reaction. She allows me to get pretty close, not so close that I’m right in her “bubble” but close enough. It’s amazing floating in the mangroves and watching this beauty.

But the peace doesn’t last long, at least not as long as I would’ve liked. Some snorkelers screaming and yelling make their way around a bend. They haven’t seen the crocodile yet, but are just being obnoxious and disturbing the calm. Suddenly one gets a little to close and screams. Flailing and splashing to get back to her group while screaming “there’s a mother Fu**king crocodile over there.” Of course this pronouncement causes other members of the group to panic a little. Now I should mention here that at the entrance to the cenote there is a sign that says there is a crocodile. Also, a few staff members let it be known when renting out snorkel gear.

All the noise has irked Panchito — not enough to get in the water and get aggressive, but she’s on her rock mouthing at us, letting her displeasure be known.

It takes some time calm down the snorkelers — when asked whether or not they saw the sign, they respond with “yeah but we thought everyone was joking about a crocodile.” Once the commotion stops, Panchito settles down herself. Returning to her peaceful laziness and sunning herself on a rock. The snorkelers, too, move on and return the way they came. We too need to continue on with our dive, which makes me a little sad. I’m so in awe of Panchito I’m not ready to say goodbye to her yet. I want to spend more time with her, but sadly it can’t be.

While I can’t say that I would actively dive with all species of crocodiles, or even most species, Panchito has definitely changed my perspective on them. I hope some day soon to return and spend more time with her.