As we explored the seafloor at the first site of the day, Argentina, something struck me as being very different from my previous dives. The ocean isn’t silent, by any means, but there isn’t a lot of sound.
This place sounded different. It sounded … like whale song: an eerie, haunting moan that resonates with the soul.
Later when we surfaced, others had heard it too. And although I’m unlikely to see a whale, just knowing they are there is very cool. I don’t know how far away they were (an internet search suggests whale song travels up to 3,000 miles, so that’s not helpful), but they were within shouting distance. For a whale.
If I do see one, it’ll be hard to get a photo. The water is cloudy here – it’s not like the Caribbean at all. Visibility is limited and it’s easy to lose your fellow divers if you aren’t careful.
This means you sometimes can’t see something well until you’re close. Like this white tipped shark.
Or this green turtle. The divemaster said his name is Steven, but I don’t know if he was serious.
One of the things I’ve noticed here is the numerous sea stars and sea urchins. I’ve seen a few elsewhere, but nothing like this.
The colors and patterns are just spectacular.
This cobalt blue.
This luminous red. On the ocean floor, the colors were invisible,until the flash went off.
This flowering urchin, with shells and rocks bizarrely stuck to its surface, surprised me.
And I don’t even know what sort of urchin this is, other than beautiful.
This is different than anyplace I’ve dived before. And it is great.