The pulsing throb of the Okeanos Aggressor's big diesels finally idled back letting everyone aboard know we had arrived. Lying in your bunk at three AM after the crossing from Puntarenas, it's your first clue that the thirty three hour exercise in unyielding anticipation is finally over. We had been delivered to one of the world's magical places for big animal diving, Cocos Island. Would the Hammerheads still be there? Will my equipment hold up in the tough conditions? Will I? Time to get wet and find out what Neptune has is store.

Cocos land-0011.jpg by Jaw's Dad, on Flickr
The Island
Isla de Coco is a small verdant spectacularly beautiful green island whose waters are home to some of the largest schools of Scalloped Hammer heads left in the world. It rises abruptly from the seafloor to about 2100 ft above sea level and your first glimpse lets you know you're someplace special. Its vertical cliffs spout stunning waterfalls filled from the 250 inches of rain a year that fall on the island. In this primordial place you half expect a dinosaur to poke her head out of the canopy munching on the strange looking vegetation that covers everything. The rocks and pinnacles just offshore, all around the island are the hot dive spots. Their names are famous among divers the world over; Alcyone, Dirty Rock, Manuelita. Cocos is a World Heritage site and a Costa Rican National Park. Three rangers are the only island inhabitants and will come out to your boat when you arrive. The parks fees are based on days of diving and a whole list of bureaucratic mumbo jumbo they will be happy to explain to you. My fee was $256 USD for the seven days we spent there. Some of the park rules have been changed recently affecting how the boats can dive the island. The dive operators are no longer allowed to drop on baitballs, for example. There is a new limit to night diving; three per week and only one night dive is allowed in the popular Manuelita shallow area where the schools of White tips chase sleeping fish under your lights.
The Boat
The Okeanos is an older boat, built in 1972, that has been refurbished many times to meet the needs of divers. At 110 feet she is adequate for the 19 divers we had aboard. The cabins are on the small side of some folk's expectations with a regular bed and twin bunk above. The dive deck is very well laid out with lots of room and storage for your gear. All the diving is done from two twenty-two foot RIBs with tank racks down the center. It can be a long kidney pounding run to Alcyone from the anchorage, especially in rough seas and driving rain, but it's worth the ride. (Hint; experienced divers try to sit in the back of the boat) The food was fine and plentiful, with breakfast and lunch served buffet style and a sit down dinner around the big table provided everyone an opportunity to tell the dive stories of the day. Beer and wine were included, a benefit I enjoyed and the water on board was fine. For some reason I have yet to understand, dive boats love to serve fish and seafood. Four of the dinners included Sea bass or some other ocean inhabitant. I'm firmly in the camp that thinks its bad karma to eat your photo subjects so they whipped me up some chicken.
The Diving

Hammerhead Dance by Jaw's Dad, on Flickr
Every dive on Cocos had a surprise in store for us. I looked to my left one afternoon at 60 ft and found myself swimming 4 feet from a whale shark. If you're lucky enough to see the large schools of Hammerheads they will only be overhead a short while. Your head is constantly on a swivel when diving the Cocos. We were there during the rainy season which increased the chance of seeing large numbers of sharks but also made for very tough shooting conditions. Squall lines came and went with regularity providing a soft rain but limiting the available light. Shooting conditions varied greatly throughout a single dive. The cloud cover and visibility would change constantly. I took almost as many images shooting into the blue to get my aperture right for a blue background as I did shooting subjects and I still missed pretty often. The big stuff is there because the current brings in food so most dives have a little water movement involved. Three of the spots we dove have lines to pull yourself down into the current. A couple of spots have some interesting vertical swirls that can catch you off guard and spin you off into the blue if you're not paying attention. There were only a couple of dives that required pulling yourself along the bottom to get to a hole where you could hide out and let the water flow over you.
In addition to the hammerheads I'd come to shoot, we saw large Galapagos sharks, a few Tigers but always at a distance, huge schools of Big Eye Trevally and big Marbled rays are common. On one memorable safety stop, floating in the blue, a school of around fifty Silky sharks came right through us in loose formation, simply mind blowing. When diving the Cocos, never turn your camera off until you're back on the boat and it better be up and ready to fire when you hit the water.

Schooling Big Eye Trevally at Cocos by Jaw's Dad, on Flickr
The main action revolves around finding a Hammer cleaning station where the butterfly fish wait to clear parasites off the big sharks. The best option I found was to find a hidey hole close by and wait. The sharks really don't like your bubbles and will spinoff well before you can get a shot if they see you.

Scalloped Hammerhead by Jaw's Dad, on Flickr
The shallow dives in the afternoon were a surprise too. Black and orange frogfish were fun to shoot and we even found a pair of Harlequin shrimp munching on a sea star at Manuelita. Sometimes the guides are even surprised. My new friend and dive buddy Linda found a small white frogfish descending off Small Dos Amigos that the guide had never seen.

Black Frogfish Beauty shot by Jaw's Dad, on Flickr
Cocos is one of the few places in the world where unbridled jubilation was a common sight on almost every dive. It's a blast to look over at your dive buddy and see her arms raised doing a Rocky imitation after a flyby by a big hammerhead.
Shooting aboard the Okeanos
In general photography aboard the Okeanos was doable but far from optimal. The boat appears to be setup for what I'll call dive tourists. They really aren't geared up to support serious photographers. While the camera table on the dive deck is huge the charging station area inside is one small side table with one set of plugs. I should have got a picture of the twenty plus devices and batteries plugged into multiple power cords and sprawling out onto the couch. There is no place inside the boat to put your housing together. Opening and changing lenses and batteries in 100% humidity is not my idea of fun. I've been spoiled by the camera rooms on other liveaboards. It's clearly an area they could improve on.
The Captain on our trip had the unenviable job of not only being the skipper, he was also the dive guide on one of the RIBs and resident photo pro. I don't ever remember seeing that situation before and it's tough to see how it can work out well. The Okeanos has lost many of the experienced crew and the Captain has his hands full training up new people. On one infuriating occasion my "dive guide" swam through a cleaning station to ask me where my buddy was, scaring off the hammers and blowing the setup. In fairness Steve Douglas and I didn't make it easy on them. My buddying up with a guy carrying lights that would illuminate Yankee Stadium was never a good idea. He was testing the new Keldans.

Steve Douglas and the new Keldans by Jaw's Dad, on Flickr
My strobes would ruin his clip and he scares away anything that doesn't want a suntan. We separated on the reef and the crew didn't know how to deal with it. After the first few dives we realized this was never going to work so Steve swam off on his own and I partnered with two beautiful ladies who also happened to be great divers.
Missed Opportunities
The long boat ride out provides a great opportunity for the boat to provide an overview of the diving and maybe a short history of the island. If the crew had shown some pictures of cleaning stations, for example, our group would have been better prepared. Some of our folks didn't figure it out until well into the week and a little info up front would have made a big difference.
The long ride home gives you lots of time to think and I found myself wondering why environmental organizations don't have liveaboards stuffed with their pamphlets, especially in an area as fragile and environmentally sensitive as the Cocos. They have a captive audience that just experienced firsthand how special and majestic these places are. Why not use the opportunity to connect with the people who care?
Pura Vida
Pure life is the motto of Costa Rica. Cocos is a living breathing environment that truly represents that ideal. Unfortunately, it is under tremendous pressure. The trawlers are lurking just outside the 22 mile limit to the park. Many of my friends who have experienced this special place have told me that they can see the impact shark fishing is having on the life around the island. My council is to go now. See for yourself the spectacular place, Isla de Coco. Take lots of pictures, make some astounding images. Then share them with everyone you can so the world will know what we stand to lose.

Pura Vida at Alcyone by Jaw's Dad, on Flickr
Cheers,
Steve