An early morning to meet The Cenote Guy for diving in The Pit at Dos Ojos Cenote park. Aydin was very knowledgeable, entertaining, and friendly. We stopped quickly at a local market for lunch supplies, which consisted of fried chicken sandwiches, large thin cookies, and refreshing drinks made from coconut water, lime juice, and chia seeds. Then we hit the road. We arrived at the park and checked in, paid our fees, and traveled down an exceptionally bumpy road in the middle of the Mexican jungle to our designated dive spot. We passed a small Mayan school and learned a bit about the local Syndicate that ran the park, which consisted of multiple Mayan families that communally maintained and benefited from the revenue the park brought in. However, a small hiccup with gear sent us back to PDC to salvage the day. Aydin, noticeably and understandably upset, was hopefully soothed a bit by an impromptu Taylor Swift radio concert featuring “Shake It Off”. In relatively little time we’d gone back, ensured all gear was in top shape, and made it back to the Cenote park.
We geared up and clambered down a wooden staircase to a pool of water surrounded by steep rock, deceptively hiding the massive chamber below. We entered the water, cold but refreshing, and situated our gear before descending. If you’ve ever wondered what it might be like to jump off a cliff and fall in slow motion, then you should consider diving in a cenote. The water is so impossibly clear that you frequently forget it’s even there, and all you can see is the cave walls, the darkness of the deep, and the silhouettes of the divers around you, hovering in nothing. A favorite activity of our small group was to cover our flashlights periodically while swimming through the caverns so we could experience the natural light levels. Sometimes it was pitch black, with just the faintest hint of the doorway back to the world above, and sometimes the water around was perfect cerulean, seemingly bathing everything around us in serenity.
Car Wash was perhaps the greatest ode to nature of the places we’d been so far on this trip. The open pool of the cenote was alive with fish, tetras and cichlids and rumors of a crocodile. Long, trailing stems of lilies decorated the edges, and a vibrant carpet of green plants covered the silty bottom. When it was sunny, the entire pool shone and danced. When it was raining, looking up at the surface reminded me of watching rain against a window. The passages in the caverns here were beautiful, but what really struck me was the view out back to the main pool. Hovering in the water, a few tens of feet into the cave, felt much like being on the threshold of a portal between our world and somewhere else entirely. In one direction was the light, life, controlled chaos. In the other direction lay darkness, serenity, and a deeply unsettling promise of eternal stillness.
The adventure into Mexico’s heart began with the awe-inspiring El Pit, a cenote that felt like nature’s cathedral. It came to a close with Taak Bi Ha, a tight and technical challenge of all we’d learned so far. The entrance was deceptive in its appearance, opening up to an expansive underwater world. Diving here was intimate, navigating through narrow passageways and between massive stone columns, each more breathtaking than the last. The play of light upon the water and rocks painted a living mural, a dynamic art piece that shifted with each movement.
Between these dives, the surface intervals were moments of reflection, where the lush greenery of the cenote parks added layers to the day’s tapestry. The transition from the ethereal quiet of the depths to the lively jungle was a reminder of the diverse experiences that travel gifts us. The profound silence of the cenote depths, broken only by the steady rhythm of my breath, instilled a sense of connection to something greater than myself. These ancient waters, once sacred to the Mayans, were a humbling reminder of the vast span of time and history. To dive in the cenotes was to swim through the very veins of the earth, feeling its pulse against my skin. We were occasionally reminded, however, of just how dangerous this place could be.
Each day of exploration was a narrative, filled with the anticipation of the dive, the thrill of discovery, and the satisfaction of a challenge met. This was not just a dive trip; it was a pilgrimage of sorts, a journey that tested my limits and expanded my understanding of both the natural world and my place within it.
The cenotes, with their crystal-clear waters, intricate rock formations, and the life that danced within them, were characters in their own right. They were the silent narrators of a story that began long before I entered their waters and will continue long after. To dive in the cenotes was to become a part of this story, a privilege and a joy that I will carry with me always.
