Jad Davenport wrote a post called Mysteries of the Underworld where he describes his encounters in Belize. It is a fairly long story but it captures every minute detail that sets the readers mind into an enveloping imagination that intrigues you to keep reading after each line. It is captivating, descriptive and very much honest. Because of the length of this post, we will dedicate several blogs to his perspective of Belize - the best of both worlds.
“We drop in together, descending quickly to 70 feet. The cubera are there, listless, squirming in the dim gloom. There are dog snapper, too, their large canines hanging out of their mouths. But there's something else. I don't see it at first because I'm focused too tight. All I see are spots, like hundreds of sand dollars, impossible because the bottom here is over 400 feet deep. My eyes refocus and I see a whale shark swaying through the darkness. It passes in seconds, and it's the only one we see. But it's a whale shark, and I'm smiling from ear to ear.”
Have you ever wondered what it is like to go on a tour to dive the blue hole? Belize diving in the Caribbean should not be taken lightly. Read on to see what he found exciting while diving in Belize.
“The Blue Hole is really a collapsed cave formed 15,000 years ago when the reef was dry. Rainwater melted through the karstic limestone and ate away a massive cave system. At some point, part of the ceiling collapsed, creating the hole.
It's our first dive of the day, and with just eight minutes at our depth of 130 feet, it will be our shortest. We gather in the shallow 82-degree water rimming the hole before descending over a sandy bank. At 50 feet, the slope falls away into the dark abyss. I feel a chill and look at the temperature reading on my computer; it's dropped six degrees.
I've dived the Blue Hole before, and I always wonder if it's not just the hype from Jacques Cousteau's famous 1970s expeditions that draws us all out here. There's little coral growing inside the hole, only cornflake algae, and few fish. It's deep and gloomy. But then I hit 130 feet and see the stalactites and dripstone pillows and cave entrances, and I know exactly why I came.
The Blue Hole finished, anxiety in our group vanishes; the deepest, darkest dive is done. Seven miles south at Half Moon Caye we indulge in a sunny surface interval on a white crescent beach amid slender palms. From a nearby bird-viewing platform, I'm treated to the noisy revelry of more than 2,000 breeding pairs of red-footed boobies, one of nearly 100 bird species counted on the island.”