Dives, Goals, and Map Pins; or, A Trifecta of GTMO Firsts

Today's weather in GTMO: high of 85º, partly cloudy, but mostly sunny

Some more GTMO firsts: 

I got to dive two new places this weekend as part of my final two classes for my Advanced Open Water certification. It only took 4 months from beginning to end to get the certification, thanks to sickness (ear infection), bad weather and poor diving conditions, and crazy weekend conflicts. 

The whole point of getting an advanced certification here is it opens up several dive locations that are restricted by the base to divers with a basic open certification. It was actually good to get a refresher on some skills---it was 21 years ago I got my original dive certification, and around 10 years ago that I took a refresher class (complete with a dive in Lake Travis, Austin----DIS-GUS-TING). 

I loved both dives. I did my deep dive (89') at The Slot. From the top is the best views of GTMO, in my opinion (the lighthouse and mountains in the background). You go down some steep stairs and through a little channel, then hang onto a rope for dear life as the current rips you towards an open space. Once there, we went to a wall that is very deep (hundreds---maybe thousands?---of feet deep in spots) and goes all the way to Honduras. It's kind of cool to think that it's part of the same wall that I dove on my honeymoon almost 21 years ago. 

Cable Beach was the first place we swam when we moved here, and I really loved the bright coral and fish during my first dive there. It was shallow---only 30' for most of the dive---and the visibility was much better. I finished my Navigation class there. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I was much more nervous doing the compass work than doing the night dive. I am geographically impaired. I really, honestly have a hard time using a compass. Seriously---what sort of dummy can't figure out a compass? 

That would be me. . . 

And another first. I'm playing soccer, but instead of women's league, it's more like skills practice and pick-up games. Tonight I played co-ed---first time doing that since I was pregnant with boy #2 way back in 2005. Not only did my team win our fun game, but I scored a goal. Gooooool! Yes, I'm bragging. I'm the oldest (or next to oldest) person at every game, so I can brag a little. 

Lastly, the Map of Lost Mail has another pin to add, and the first of 2014. 

We are STILL getting a trickling in of Christmas presents. We got this very sad looking box last week: 

I'm not sure why it was rewrapped and resealed. Was it falling apart? Did someone get curious and decided to open it and take a peek? 

What I didn't realize until I started opening it was the sticker from yet another exciting destination for my Map of Lost Mail. Can you spot it? 

My mail has now been to Catania, Sicily! If you don't know anything about Catania, it is the second largest town in Sicily and sits in the shadows of Mt. Etna. No, I haven't been there---I just looked it up online. It is really gorgeous, if the Internet is to be believed. 

And now, here's my latest version of my mail map: Oman, Italy, Sicily, Spain, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia. I haven't been to any of these places and would like to visit most. (I've never talked to anyone about visiting Oman, but if you have been and liked it, convince me to visit so I can say I want to go to all of these places). 

The Latest Version of the Map of Lost Mail

Harder Better Faster Stronger; or, Once again, with feeling

Today's weather in Guantánamo Bay, Cuba: high of 88º and partly cloudy. 

Year two here means experiencing the same things over and over again. However, this year's going to be harder, better, faster, stronger (with all apologies to Daft Punk).

First (better, stronger): diving

I have managed to finally log over 50 lifetime dives now, and I only have two more dives to get my advanced open water certification. I've been taking classes to finish that cert so I can go to a wider range of dive sites on island.

Twenty one years after my first dive, I finally faced my fears and experienced a night dive last weekend. It wasn't nearly as terrifying as I thought. (I blame reading too many Peter Benchley novels in my early teens for my irrational fear of night diving).

We saw: a huge urchin stretching out from its exoskeleton to feed; a parrotfish sleeping in its nighttime cocoon; a freaky arrow crab; a baby lobster; my first Gitmo starfish sighting; half-burrowed, sleeping rays; and a graceful, fluid octopus that was clinging to the bottom of a colorful coral ledge.  Puffer fish don't puff out in their sleep, and their spines don't show---so when we came down on a sleeping puffer, it was amazing to come nose-to-nose with the little guy, hovering like a hummingbird, suspended completely still while we got much closer than we can during the day.

I also went on a wreck dive (okay, it's a "wreck" dive, as it was a barge intentionally sunk for an artificial reef). Lots of damsels and wrasses and two of the biggest angelfish I've even seen were gliding in and out of colorful sponges and corals and through crevices in the old barge. It was so nice to see something different from the same places we've been before. We definitely will be back there (and hopefully with a camera next time).

All dives were at Girl Scout Beach, which I love because it's great for finding sea glass, has more sand for laying out and reading a book in the sun than most other beaches, and it's relatively easy to get to.

I don't love the steps that go from the bottom of Girl Scout to the area where you park. It's especially rough when you are hauling tanks and gear (and going up is always much more difficult than going down). It also doesn't have tables, restrooms, or water, so you are really roughing it.

I'm happy to get more dives in (and more "difficult" speciality ones, at that), and I'm looking forward to a second year of diving, with many more locations available once I finally finish my certification.  I've become a stronger diver because of the classes and I'm making great memories every time I go out with my son or husband.

Second (better, faster): This year's parade was also bigger and better for us, because our youngest got to be on a float. He was so excited when he found out he was going to be in the parade, he exclaimed, "It's my wildest dreams come true!" Um, okay. Then again, I managed to be in the Christmas parade every year I lived in our little town and loved the experience. Granted, I was never a beauty queen doing my beauty queen wave from the back of a convertible (that would be my sister), but I was a band geek and therefore got to march the little route for years. As a little kid, I was always on a float with Brownies or a church group. I do remember one year helping decorate a float made of chicken wire with tissue paper down at the National Guard Armory. No chicken wire and tissue here, but several nautical themed floats that were quite cute:

The experience this year was different for me, too, because instead of getting pelted with candy, I waited for my son at the end of the route (where most floats had run out of candy). Maybe it was a larger parade, or many I just had a better view from a different vantage point, or just maybe I've been here so long that everything is starting to look bigger than normal, but I thought this year's parade was larger, with better floats and more of them.

And third (harder): sickness.

This one isn't good.

This time last year, I ended up with a bad respiratory infection and my first case of asthma in years and years. I guess the December funk has hit again. I finally gave in and went to the doctor today---it's really not a bad experience here, since you are in and out in less than 30 minutes, tops---but I hate being sick because, really, who likes being sick? Plus I am allergic to almost every antibiotic, so getting sick is frustrating, to say the least. I can't just pop a pill like a normal person and be okay in a few days. I have an inner ear infection, so goodbye, diving, until that is over. I'm on a nice cocktail of cold medication and antibiotics and a little something for the pain, so I missed a party at the youngest's school tonight and used a sick day today (or half a day) for the first time since I've been here. To make matters more complicated, there are no albuterol inhalers on the island---the one and only pharmacy is out and may get some next week. Not a good time to be asthmatic! I am even loopier and crabbier than usual (who knew that was possible?), and to me, things like ear infections seem to get harder to deal with the older you are. You know how life is as an adult---you are too busy with kids and work to be sick. Hoping a weekend in bed will cure everything---although I would much rather be hanging out with little kids at a Christmas party, or diving, or last minute shopping, or wrapping the presents that (hopefully) are sitting at school because I wasn't there for mail call today.

Four-Minute Scuba Dives, or, We have a malfunction

Diving is not for the weak.

I don't mean that in an, "I'm so macho doing an extreme sport and you're a sissy" kind of way.

I mean, if you shore dive from Windmill Beach in GTMO, you have to have a strong back, shoulders, and arms to schlep equipment from your car to the picnic area, and then from the picnic area through dirt and sand to the water. Then you may have to swim out a hundred yards before you slip underneath the waves.

Son 1 and I went for some diving early Sunday morning. I will be the first to admit that I'm not a finite detail kind of person. It's a good thing my son is, because this is what you have to remember:

fins

mask

snorkel

boots

skin (or wetsuit)

BC (buoyancy compensator)

weights

regulator

dive computer

also, towels are necessary, snacks are nice, mask de-fogger is preferable.

I'll just say I'm not the ONLY person in my family who has realized while in the process of dressing out to dive that I've left a crucial item at the house. With the exception of a snorkel, you have to have each of these items to make your dive.

We did a great job of getting everything packed (okay, my son did most of the packing except the towels and snacks), and we got to Windmill in plenty of time to pick a good spot to set up. The weather was great---not windy, low tide, sunny, not too hot. The water was warm---my son only wore his swim trunks and a tee shirt---and my ears cleared quickly for once (I sometimes take a few minutes to descend). The visibility was amazing. For only the second time since we've been here, I spotted sand dollars, and I got one for each of the boys.

Then, of course, disaster---I realized my dive computer would not turn on. The computer doesn't only tell me my depth and how many minutes I can safely stay at that depth, it keeps me from ascending too fast (one way to get "the bends") and most importantly, its pressure gauge tells me how much air I have left.

Important stuff, right?

So we aborted the dive and I had the shortest bottom time yet (the son said 4 minutes, but I wouldn't know, since a clock and timer are also part of the computer. Grrrr).

We did have a fabulous snorkel on the way back. I usually hate snorkeling, because I think you tend to look more like lunch to a predator when you are up on the surface than eye-to-eye or on the bottom. I don't want to find out either way.  We made good use of the heavy equipment we'd schlepped, with the BC doubling beautifully as a snorkel vest, and on rougher days, a regulator can be a good alternative to a snorkel when the waves get a little crazy. It's an expensive way to snorkel, no doubt, but it's not a bad way to do it.

The son turns to me and shouts, "Look, mom, a baby barracuda! Did you see it?"

I shout back, "Nope, but I HAVE SAND DOLLARS!"  Woot!


Then, "Mom! Four or five barracudas! Did you see them? And more babies!"

Me: "No, I didn't---but did you see my sand dollars??"


Then, "That was an awesome sea turtle! I think I got a picture of it!"

Me: "What sea turtle? Huh? But hey, I have sand dollars. . . "

My son says that 1)I need to do a better job de-fogging my mask---you can't argue with that when you see the pic of me above, and 2) I need to get a stronger contact lens prescription. He's right about that, too.

We have a waterproof case for a digital camera that is clunky and awkward to use, but once you've played with it a few minutes, it takes great photos. In the four minutes we were down, we unfortunately didn't get many pictures, and these are less than stellar. But still---that moment when you are ascending and are caught in the spectrum of white/brown sand and coral, rising out of the darker deep waters, seeing more and more sun's rays cutting through once you get closer to the surface---he did manage to get a picture of that. And whether it's 40 minutes or 4, I love that moment when you ascend through the bursts of colors that is the ocean.

Oh, and did I mention----I have sand dollars!!!

Hotel California; or, Firsts, Lasts, and In-Betweens

The past few weeks have been frustrating, with the hurry-up-and-wait mentality of someone (DoD? Congress? DoDEA? I don't even know whom to be frustrated with) about furloughs. We get emails basically saying, brace yourself, letters are coming soon, and then we get another saying, we jumped the gun, it's going to be a few days/another week/another 2 weeks before we know something. 

You know, there is this saying about poop and a pot, and it really applies to this situation. 

And now. . . 

Some more firsts here in Gitmo: 

1) I ran my first chipped 5K! There are hills, and then there are Gitmo hills. Dear lord. We ran from the downtown Lyceum to Girl Scout Beach and back. I realize that this means absolutely nothing to 99% of you, so I'm going to pretend that I have posted a map and you are amazed at the route I have taken. As my husband has reminded me, I really don't want to be the one who gets in trouble for posting a map of this place online, so use your imagination and be impressed.

Texas Hill Country hills ain't got nothing on Cuban hills. There were some VERY steep ones there and back, and all I can say is, when I get back to flat Texas, I will be able to fly. Or at least run five or so miles without passing out. 

2. Some of you ask about my kids, and honestly, I feel that this isn't the place to talk about them. That especially goes for my teenager. If he wanted you all up in his business, he would have his own blog thing. 

But I am in constant awe of him and how he is NOT like I was at that age. This kid left his only home he really remembers of 9 years to come here---a real leap of faith, not that he had much choice. He went from a large group of life-long friends to being one of about 50 highschoolers, and one of only 10 or so students in his grade. Yes, ten. Like 1-0. He's had to take some classes online to get everything he wanted on his schedule (not that easy, especially with The World's Slowest Internet). 

Got a few days? You can download that file---

actual screenshot from our house.

He wanted to continue tennis, so he is one of four kids who play on the team. That means tennis tournament season is him, his three teammates---and lots of lots of grownups. Yes, when you are a teen here and participate in sports, it means you play either individual or group matchups, depending on the sport, with JTF, active duty, civilian, foreign national, DoD adults, and/or their spouses. It's crazy watching your kid play in a match against someone much older and experienced in the game. He made it to the second round before being eliminated, and I'm SO proud of him. There is absolutely, positively NO WAY I could have played adults in a competitive match at his age. First, they would have slaughtered me (and he definitely held his own), and second, I would have chickened out. So kudos to my kid. 

Also, he is thisclose to being SCUBA certified. I was scared to death at 22 of getting certified. I'm so happy he's a much gutsier and braver kid than I ever was. 

But that's the joy of having kids, sometimes----they aren't like you were at their age. Thank God. 

3. Pearl the Blazer has a new companion: 

We hasve looked at Jeeps several times over the years, and now we are living in the best place on earth to have one. The stars aligned and we found the right one at the right time for the right price. People call our stretch of road "Jeep Row." There are at least 10 on our street. 

We haven't named her---or him----yet. Suggestions? Anyone? 

4. I ate these:

Two sea snail shells, a snail foot, and a dime for size comparison

Sea snails, picked from the ocean, grilled in their own juices and eaten right there on the beach. 

And I KNOW some of you eat clams, escargot, or (raw) oysters, so don't even pretend to stick your nose in the air. A mollusk is a mollusk is a mollusk. 

And they weren't that bad. 

5. Today I climbed a tree for the first time since I was 12 or so with our youngest. It was one of the strangely twisted, gargantuan, and beautiful banyans in our neighborhood. You know what? It was fun. I need to get out and climb more trees. I really forgot how much I loved doing that as a kid. 

And lasts. . . or one last. . . 

I try not to take too much of the rumor mill seriously, but when I heard a few months back that our one and only commercial airline was leaving the island, right after my parents had bought tickets from said airline, I panicked a little. They called IBC and were assured that it was not going out of business. 

Well, IBC is leaving the island. Their last day here? The day before my parents were scheduled to fly in. 

"Disappointed" is a word I use when I forget to catch the latest episode of a show I like, or realize I can't cook something I want because I'm missing one ingredient. I'm really not sure what the word or phrase is I want to use. "Pissed off?" Not really that. . . I am angry, but also disenchanted that they were sold something and guaranteed they could use it when, in fact, it is void and null. And there's that possibility the airline knew it when they sold the tickets to them. It's complicated when there were other stops and hotels and cities along their path here. Cross your fingers this sorts itself out and they can get on what is now one of only SIX flights a month to this place. So it's my last time to take rumors so lightly. 

As my pal Beth says, "You are living in Hotel California. You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave." 

I'm going to submit that as my entry to the (Un)Official Gitmo Tourist Slogan contest (especially since "It's On the Barge" isn't so funny anymore).