It was a grueling red-eye flight from LAX to the American territory of
Puerto Rico, the most devirginized of the Virgin Island chain.  Close to 7
hours later, we walked off the plane to the intense heat of the Caribbean
spring, picked up our rental divewagon (SUV), and hit the road after a brief
mixup where I ended up in Old San Juan for the short drive to our hotel on
the island's east coast.  At least it should have been a short drive, but
traffic on the island can be quite heavy even with the multilane highways.
Instead, I took the coastal bypass route which wended through beach towns
crowded with palapa huts selling all sorts of grilled things.  How people
can tend a roaring fire outdoors in the 95-degree heat was beyond my
comprehension, but I appreciated absorbing the sights and smells from the
air-conditioned interior of our vehicle.

Eventually we had to get back on the main highway.  For half the stretch,
the highway is more like a wide boulevard, with traffic signals every
half-mile or so.  PR drivers are a bit loco, so as a born-and-raised L.A.
driver I felt right at home cutting in and out of every little opening that
presented itself and gunning it at each green light in hopes of making the
next one before it changed to red.  I soon noticed that the craziest of my
fellow motorists were all female, a role reversal from the normally passive
American female drivers.  Then I considered the possibility that they could
all be well within the negative swing of their mentrual cycle and perhaps it
was not wise to challenge their domination of the road.  I cut back to a
moderate pace and tried to get into a more laid-back Caribbean pace as we
left the crowds and traffic of the city behind.  The road finally opened up,
strip malls gave way to jungle, and eventually we were there.

The Westin is part of a god-awful behemoth of a golf resort, having to wend
over a mile from the turnoff through the golf course over speed bumps and
around crawling golf carts, but it's a nice property on a very nice beach.
Being morning still, our upgraded room wasn't yet ready.  We left our
luggage with the bellman and sat down to a nice lunch.  And then a few
cocktails.  Finally we gave up on the upgrade and took whatever they could
find us.  The hotel was packed solid and, as this was a freebie on Starwood
points I couldn't be too choosy.  They offered to let me know when an
upgrade became available and actually called us with an open ocean-view
junior suite a couple nights later but by that time we were too ensconced to
move.  Our room was a jungle view instead, with a little balcony over
looking the driveway in front of the hotel and the coqui-filled trees
beyond.  The coqui, for those not in the know, is rumored to be a little
frog that lives in the trees and emits a sound similar, but eerier, to that
of a cricket.  While I heard plenty of them, we never did manage to spot one
even during our rainforest hikes.  Perhaps they just pipe in the noise.  In
any case, at least until the teenage kids started hanging around the
driveway right under our room and talking loudly all night, it was a
pleasant alternative to the roaring surf.

Dive day one was supposed to be at Humacao on the southeast corner of the
island, but Sea Ventures, the dive op I chose for the sole reason that it
had a website, told me upon my confirmation call that they had canceled the
Humacao dive due to a DM calling in sick and that we'd have to dive Fajardo
instead if we still wished to dive.  As we were there to get wet, I
begrudgingly accepted.  They also offered us an afternoon 2-tanker so I said
we'd do that as well.  After all, what else is there to do but dive?  Golf?
Not a chance.

Though Fajardo was a half-hour closer to our hotel, their boats left a
half-hour earlier so we still had to get out by 7:30 a.m.  It's also closer
to the El Yunque rainforest, so its visibility suffers from runoff.  Still,
we were assured, it hadn't been raining for weeks and the viz was supposedly
up to 60' or so.  A big fat lie that was, as we discovered on our first
descent into the murk at a site called Pyramid.  Due to the presence of 4
students and 4 newbies on the boat, they took us to a spot with a 35'
maximum depth.  And we couldn't see the bottom from the surface.  Viz was
probably 20' at best.  And nothing to see.  According to Janna's logbook, we
saw a tiny cleaner shrimp sitting on a lizardfish, a few reef fish, and a
few flaming tongues.  Swell.

Swell?  Yes, lots of swells.  The wind was blowing hard so the surface chop
was about 4'.  This, combined with the fact that it had been raining in the
rainforest for the past two days even though they told us that it hadn't
been raining, really trashed up the water.  Plus, PR waters are pretty
overfished so there's nothing over 5" to see.  Lots of beaten-up soft corals
and sea fans and that's about it.  The DM must have recently been awarded
his august title.  He gave one of the most thorough and long briefings I've
ever encountered that told us absolutely nothing about the site and
everything about how to use our gear, ascend, descend, etc.  When I asked
about any special fish life in the area, he actually replied, "I dunno.  Are
sergeant majors rare?  We have a lot of those."  Swell.

Dive two was more of the same, at a site called Sebastian as if we could
tell the difference.  I was lagging behind the group and they disappeared
into the murk.  Eventually I found them but by then the DM had realized I
was missing and indicated, even though I was back, that we were all to
ascend and look for me.  Upon surfacing, he recounted and found us all
there.  I believe his main reason for ascending was to take a heading on the
boat that he had lost, but I didn't say anything since the newbies were
already confused.  We re-descended and made our way back to the boat.

At that point, I informed the other DM, the more competent one, that we
didn't want to do the afternoon dives due to severe boredom.  He said I
would have to talk to the boss, but assured us that we were the only two
divers on the afternoon boat so it would be better.  Instead we were to
share the boat with a family of snorkelers, as if that were supposed to be
better than students and newbies!?!  Actually, he assured us, it was,
because they could take us to an islet that offered decent snorkeling on top
of the reef, and a bottom of 75' for the dive.  Not relishing the idea of a
confrontation with "the boss" on the very first day of our trip, especially
since we were scheduled to dive with Sea Ventures for the next few days and
they already had my credit card number, I relented and we agreed to make the
afternoon dives.

To their credit, the second set of dives was much better.  Viz was improved
off the islet, Palamenitos it was called, and we did go deeper.  The islet
was one of what they call the Spanish Virgin Islands.  I felt bad for the
snorkeling family, though, because the group included two tiny four-year-old
girls and by that time the seas had grown to 5', big swells much bigger than
the poor little things.  But they braved the water and probably didn't see
sh.t for their money. Oh well, not my problem.

We did our first of the afternoon dives at a site called Sand Slide.  It
started with a gently sloping hill of sand that led down to a reef structure
in the 40-70' range.  The viz was maybe 40', double that of the morning
crap.  And we saw the biggest lobster I've ever seen in person, a giant that
must have extended over 3', just sitting on the reef wall not trying to hide
since he probably could have eaten us if he wanted to.  Unfortunately the
reefs even out here were covered with algae.

Dive two, after less than a half-hour surface interval since it was getting
pretty uncomfortable on the boat by that point, was at a site called Spur
and Groove which, not surprisingly, was a spur and groove reef that bottomed
out in sand at 75'.  We headed down one of the grooves, and at the end,
sitting right at the mouth of the grove over the sand was a real live
dolphin, only the second time that I've seen one of the fearsome beasts
underwater in the wild.  The DM ignored him, looking at his watch, and I
couldn't believe that this guy was so jaded that he didn't give a whit about
the dolphin.  Having no underwater signaling device, I finally finned over
and shook the guy, pointing vigorously.  He perked up when he saw what I was
pointing at, and we both hung out watching the dolphin watching us while we
waited for Janna to catch up and enjoy the show.  Fortunately the big fishie
hung around long enough for Janna to get a glimpse, then he swum off away
from the reef out into the murk.

We continued that dive across the sand to a little boat wreck, which we
explored a bit finding a big fat green moray at one end and his little black
and white spotted cousin at the other, then retraced our steps back to the
reef, up a different groove, and finished over what appeared like a meadow
of sea grasses studded with little mushroom-like things that looked like
mushrooms.  I searched in vain for seahorses and pipe fish and other
creatures of the grass but couldn't find a one.

On day two we made it down to Humacao, a bit under an hour's drive from the
hotel.  The dock and dive shop was buried within a huge residential
development and I had to following instructions such as "turn left at the
7th speed bump."  When I finally decided to park and ask someone where I
could find the shop, the guy indicated that we were there and pointed around
the corner.

Humacao was where all the visibility was hiding as our first dive, at a site
called Medusa, offered over 100' of sweet Caribbean clarity.  Unfortunately
all the fish were hiding elsewhere, but we did spot a spotted drum. Corals
were much healthier here, but a bit monotonous compared to the Caribbean
diving standouts.  The second dive that day, at "Rooms" had a bit less viz,
but still decent compared to the day before, and we were pursued for a while
by a massive barracuda.  The terrain was less monotonous on this second
dive, as the reef was cut through with various interweaving channels so you
could vary your path back and forth.  We were given the option of doing our
own thing on that dive and we gratefully did.

Day three was our road trip day.  We got up at 4:30 a.m. while it was still
dark, but nice and cool, and left the hotel at 5 for the long drive to
Guanica.  We took the one real freeway in PR, a nice three lane toll road
where I could cruise at 75 through the mountainous interior of the island,
dodging all the slow idjits in the fast lane just like back home.  PR is a
large island and we were basically going from one corner to the other,
hoping for clear water at the other side.  Sea Ventures' shop in Guanica is
based at the Copamarina Hotel, an isolated resort at the end of a one lane
road through the Guanica Dry Forest reserve.  I managed to stay awake for
the entire trip and we arrived on schedule, walking through the hotel to the
dive shop hut adjacent to the beach.

Our fellow divers that day consisted of a couple families staying at the
hotel, all newly certified but seemingly capable.  The DM, who had certified
them earlier that trip, catered to them while ignoring us.  I asked where to
check in, he replied, "you check in with me," then left again to help the
newbies.  Finally I managed to get ahold of his manifest so we could sign
in, and we got our weights.  While the newbies were getting their rental
gear situated, Janna and I ran for a bathroom break.  When we came back to
the dive hut, I noticed that they had already loaded the newbies' gear and
weights on a wheelbarrow and were carting it to the dock.  They left our
stuff behind.  I grabbed dive bag and weights and grumbled to Janna about
how little I'd be tipping that day.

The boat was a carbon copy of the boat used at Humacao, plenty comfortable
for 8 divers, a DM and a captain.  The ride out to the reef was nice and
calm, but once we went out the cut, the water got even choppier than the
previous day as the winds were still blowing stiff.

We made the dive, but the conditions were hardly what they were the day
before.  Viz was down to about 30' from the strong surge, even as we made
our way down the gently sloping "wall" to about 80' or so.  While the dive
was supposed to be to 100' or thereabouts, I suspect that they kept it
shallow due to the newbie presence aboard.  Unfortunately, that meant we
didn't manage to get deep enough to avoid the swells.  Worse than the viz
was the fact that the sealife was practically non-existent on the Guanica
reef, a fact borne out by the video I took of the dive, the most boring dive
video I've ever seen.  But my main purpose on this dive was to finally get
my video camera wet as I had been too hungover the other mornings to deal
with it.  I have a few issues with the optimal manual focal point versus
using autofocus on the camera and I need to learn a bit more about the
housing, but the camera stayed dry and the video looked sharp and smooth
even though there was nothing to see.

Getting back on the boat proved problematic, as I almost drowned getting
wrapped up in the current line while trying to hand up my camera and fins.
But that's what I get for taking my reg out of my mouth upon surfacing and
Jim Greenlee will happily dance on my grave when I finally succumb due to my
poor surface technique.  One of the newbies got clobbered with the ladder
and was rubbing his shin, drooling with pain, as I sat down next to him.  He
looked so bad at first that I thought he might have had a head bashing or
even DCS, but finally his oblivious parents noticed something was wrong with
him and I turned my attention to the between-dive snack.

Soon the captain let us know that a second dive today was iffy due to the
conditions.  We all agreed to wait it out for a surface interval, hoping
that it would blow off.  Capt. Bam Bam invited me upstairs to share the
cockpit with him, and we discussed other Caribbean diving locales as we
puttered around the lagoon.  He moonlights as a vice cop and talked on about
exciting busts of drugs and illegal aliens.  At the end of the surface
interval, we attempted heading back through the reef, but the conditions
proved worse than before to the point that we were even getting splashed up
in the cockpit, a good 15 feet above the water's surface.  The DM and Bam
Bam conferred and agreed that we weren't going to attempt a second dive.  We
headed back to the dock and were only charged $50 a piece for a single tank
dive.  So much for our 5-hour round trip.

The drive back took even longer than expected.  See the Fear and Driving in
Puerto Rico thread for our misadventures on the Panoramic Route back home.
I later called in to Sea Ventures about diving the next day at Humacao and,
having canceled Humacao yet again, they offered us a morning trip for the
next day at Fajardo.  I politely declined and called an official end to our
diving in PR.  We instead hiked about 5 miles in the rainforest the next
day, not once spotting one of the elusive coquis though we heard quite a
few, and then checked out of our hotel the next morning and drove up to Old
San Juan for our final night.

Old San Juan is a very nice neighborhood.  Our hotel there, the Sheraton,
was across the street from the bay with a great view of the water. We took
the ferry across the bay to the Condesa area, where walked over to the
Bacardi distillery and visitor's center.  After the half-hour ferry-ride and
an hour of walking, we finally arrived to a closed gate and found out that
Bacardi was closed for Good Friday.  It's refreshing to know that one of the
biggest proponents of vice, the largest rum runner in the world, closes for
a religious holiday.  Unfortunately it wasn't my religion and we were a bit
pissed off for having made the trip with the information that the factory
was open 7 days a week.  We headed back to our hotel, where the casino was
also closed for Good Friday, and proceeded to a nice walking tour of Old San
Juan and the El Morro Fort until they too closed, then a great dinner at our
hotel, and a good night's sleep before our trip back home.

The moral is that I would never again choose PR as a diving destination.
Perhaps the weather conditions just weren't as favorable as they could have
been, but given the scarcity of fish life even when the conditions were
decent, and the amount of driving necessary to get from a civilized resort
to barely mediocre diving, I can't recommend PR for anything more than a
night's layover in Old San Juan where the food does happen to be very, very
good.  Never again will I travel to a Latin American country on a Catholic
holy day.

As for Sea Ventures, I'm not sure that there's anything better on the
island, but they certainly have room for improvement.  The final insult was
when I asked for my multiple day discount and was told I would be receiving
a credit on my credit card.  This of course never happened.  I'd recommend a
boycott of the shop for that reason, but since I'm already recommend a dive
boycott of the entire island, calling for a shop boycott would be
superfluous.

Sorry I got this out so late, Matt Cushing, but you get what you pay for.
If your trip was in any way better than mine, please let us know.  Otherwise
I'm writing the island off for good, especially since Continental now flies
direct to Bonaire from Houston.