Text by Mary L. Peachin with photos by Mary L. Peachin and Diego Ávila
November, 2014, Vol. 19. No. 2
Do you love searching for the deadly blue ring octopus, a fully exposed flat-headed stargazers, the ultimate frizzy “bad hair day” bright-orange hirsute frogfish, a crab fest between an orange and purple decorator crab carrying a live urchin, or perhaps a mimic or red octopus, abundant, colorful soft and hard coral? If so, then you are as a spoiled scuba diver like me. Colombia can’t compete with Indonesia’s underwater diversity, but the country can. And, if you are looking for a quick trip, same day flight, one that is cheaper and faster than going to the Northern Caribbean, Colombia is a great option.
While the South American country’s claim to diving fame is shark infested Malpelo Seamount, I wanted to explore more of Colombia. For me, this was a very special trip. My husband, who has dived maybe four times in the past thirty years, wanted to visit Colombia, and he wanted to give scuba another try. Cheers, I wouldn’t be traveling alone, but since he felt adamant that he didn’t need a review course, I made arrangements for him to have his own instructor.
Bogota, Colombia’s gateway is faster and cheaper than any northern Caribbean dive destination. Perhaps, it is not widely known its past reputation for guerrillas and drug cartels, who have headed north to Mexico, have made Colombia a hot new destination, especially for foodies. My final consideration was merging airline flights and routes from the western part of the U.S. being obscenely priced with ridiculous routes, plus overnight stays going both directions.
Santa Marta, Colombia’s third largest port following Barranquilla and Cartagena, was my final decision in spite of being limited to two daily dive options. For a price, I am sure a third or night dive could have been arranged, but either would have been more hassle than it was worth. The decision clincher was Juan Davila, owner of a small inn named Casa Verde.
Growing up in Bogota, Juan spent many vacations in Santa Marta’s nearby beach town of Rododero. At the time, Santa Marta was infamous for its fields of “Colombia Gold,” the finest marijuana. Six years ago, Santa Marta, Simon Bolivar’s La Quinta de San Pedro Alejandrino (final resting place began attracting trekking backpackers headed to Tayrona Park or Minca, a small colonial town in a coffee growing region of the Sierra Nevada’s.
Casa Verde’s door, like other street side inns was barred with a tastefully decorated a wrought iron gate that remained locked with a padlocked chain. Rather than feeling incarcerated, we felt protected. This, in spite of never feeling threatened on any Colombian street. The staff was helpful and friendly. Breakfast, including fresh juice, yoghurt, fruit, and eggs, was included in our $125 room. Casa Verde had a tropical garden courtyard with a small plunge pool. I loved the intimacy and warmth of the place.
Our second floor room was simple. We had a view of the cathedral, one that only chimed on Sunday, but then did so hourly all day long. A colorful hammock hung on our wrap around balcony. The pebble tiled bathroom had a large walk in shower with low pressure hot water, that is, if you didn’t turn on the cold water. There were no amenities besides bottles of soap for the granite sink and shower. No Kleenex, nada. And the daily, except Sunday, housekeeping service retrieved our requested additional blanket on several occasions. The air conditioning was either too warm or cold. Juan looked at the large colonial homes and charm of the city. “I felt that Santa Marta was ready for a place a step above a hostel.”
And, as an aside, Juan could recommend the perfect dive operator, Quimera Divers. Owner Diego Ávila is a marine biologist.
Early December, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, is generally a good dive trip time for me. It’s holiday shoulder season with fewer travelers and more availability on shorter notice. But, no-one told me about “la loco.” During December, January , and part of February, crazy trade winds whip down the Sierra Nevada’s (probably like California Santa Ana’s) churning the seas. I never thought of any impact created by wind blowing down from the mountains rather than from the ocean up towards land.
Several hours after arriving at Casa Verde, Diego Ávila came to meet with us. He shared his conservation philosophy with us, took my dive gear, and said he would send a cab to pick us up at 7:45am the next morning. During our visit, he was moving his dive shop to Santa Marta’s “Fort Knox” secured state of the art marina.
Granate is Tayrona National Park’s first bay, an area fortunately protected from the trade winds. While we probably would have enjoyed better visibility another time of the year, we had at least 50 feet. My five mil wetsuit and hood kept me comfortable in the 77-78 water.
Colombia’s underwater terrain reminded me of the Sea of Cortez. Multiple boulders blended with scatterings of soft and hard coral. Between dives at La Percera and El Paso del Angel, our surface time was spent in a ramada overlooking a small beach where we enjoyed homemade cookies and mangoes. Diego showed me how to squeeze the mango, bite off the tip, and suck out the sweet pulp and juice. He brought water sold commercially in handy six ounce plastic bags. We relaxed as we enjoy our ocean view.
The next day at El Cantil de Granate we descended down a sixty foot healthy reef wall returning to the boat after observing sardines in a small swim-through. In other words, my tank banged its ceiling.
At Calichan Isla Aguja, we did a version of a Colombian muck dive. The sandy bottom was surrounded by a fringing reef. The more interesting critters we saw were a small frog fish, red-lipped bat fish and a “red robin” or small red flying gunard. The latter looked more like a scorpion fish to me. There were flamingo tongues, snake and tiger eels, numerous lobsters, sergeant majors, batfish, file fish, arrow crab, lobster, a seahorse, and the usual cast of Caribbean characters.
Approximately 17 years ago, ten minutes from the eastern side of Santa Marta’s new Marina, a cargo ship was intentionally sunk in approximately 100 feet of water.
Located near El Morro de Santa Marta, an ocean seamount protruding thirty plus feet above the surface, the ship is teeming with schools of small fish. Safety conscience Diego ran a line to the ship’s bow and also hung a tank at 15 feet. Descending at seven in the morning, there was no current. Being the only dive operator located at Santa Marta Marina, we had the wreck to ourselves.
Diego told me that “those thirteen dive operators in Tayrona Park won’t spend fuel money to motor twenty plus minutes to El Morro. The pang-like boats I saw in Tayrona carried as many as fourteen divers. Since Santa Marta is considered “a kindergarten” for sardines, I would suggest that those Park operators ran “sardine” rather than “cattle” boats.
Quimera Divers boat had the appearance of a speed boat with two 95hp engines. There was a sturdy, but narrow ladder to access the boat. The dive masters took a fin sweeping leap over the approximately six foot sides. Rather than back roll from that height we donned our gear in the water prior to ascending and descending. The boat had seats lining both sides, a half-length canvas cover, 20 tank holders in the center of the boat. There was no space for camera gear or water for rinsing either cameras or masks. Diego said that he does not take more than four divers. Even that might be cramp.
To be honest, I’ve admitted that I am very spoiled, but I enjoyed every minute of this very basic diving with Quimera Divers in Santa Marta. I was happy to pay the $300,000 pesos or approximately $95 a day for two tanks. I found the town charming in spite of the streets and sidewalks being treacherous with manhole covers missing, all in great need of resurfacing and paving.
Following the traditional afternoon siesta time, we wandered the cobblestone streets.
Restaurants surrounding Plaza de los Novios (Lovers) included Ouza (Mediterranean), Son Tapas, El Bistro, and Lulo Cafe. My favorite Colombian dish was Ajiaco, a cauldron of soup brimming with shredded chicken, potatoes, and a plate of rice, capers, and fresh avocado to mix to taste and tasty róbalo (snook), a flaky, white fish better known as a game fish to Caribbean fly fishers.
If you go: Casa Verde, casaverdesantamarta.com
Quimera Divers, www.quimeradivers.com