Ampliar

Amy Houghton became a certified diver at the age of ten. At age 19, she had already achieved the dive master degree.

Ampliar

Ampliar

Ampliar

Every time I come to Cuba, I fall for it all over again. This is a place of gorgeous scenery, amazing people that live in a mystical conglomerate of historic reminiscences, trapped in beautiful landscapes packed with sugarcane fields and tobacco plantations. As far as the sport of scuba diving is concerned, this is really a paradise for diving enthusiasts: great sea bottom walls, old-timed flotsams, spectacular sharks, plentiful marine species and corals, let alone good-tasting rum and superb music beats.

Most people coming to the island arrive in Havana, a picture-perfect city full of moxie, colorfulness and a varied and singular architecture. Despite the fact that Havana is a very attractive place, the best scuba diving you can find is outside the island nation's capital, out in the provinces where time ticks on even slower.

Heading west we get to Pinar del Rio, on the westernmost side of the island, following a tiresome four-hour drive from Havana. We're in Maria la Gorda, a place named after a young woman who was abducted by pirates and left on the premises. Waters here –where coral walls are pretty deep- are strictly safeguarded for they are considered a national park. This guarantees great schools of fish. The best known of all dwellers here is Lola, a friendly 330-lb. Goliath mero that sometimes swims alongside divers.

In Paraiso Perdido (Lost Paradise), one of Maria la Gorda's diving sites, you can swim next to the edge of a 66-feet-deep reef that eventually slopes down a wall to 100 feet deep. Huge coral clusters are sprinkled by enormous pot-shaped and tubular sponges, as well as lobsters and crabs that live in crevices and holes. We can gaze at huachinangos, cirujanos, small meros and good deals of angelfish. Visibility easily reaches 150 feet. This is also a coveted nestling site for marine turtles. Havana's Center for Marine Research is carrying out extensive conservation programs aimed at protecting these peaceful species.

Not far from here, on Cuba's westernmost tip, we find the Isle of Youth, and farther to the east we happen on Cayo Largo del Sur, a tourist area where Jacques Cousteau's favorite reefs are located. Mr. Cousteau once said he'd seen more fish here than anywhere else. Years later, I've had the same feeling myself in a place called El Acuario (The Aquarium). I felt like floating amid huge schools of grunts, yellowtail snappers and red snappers, while the sand was garnished with countless seashells and crabs. From a distance, I could make out a huge school of grunts fluttering around a huge coral head. Jam-packed and close to one another, they were still and soon took me into their gang.

Other two sites near Cayo Largo (a two-and-a-half-hour boat ride) are Blanco and Sigua keys, both of them famous for their devil rays and eagle skates, as well as a fabulous marine wildlife. Walls here are jaw-dropping and seem to vanish into an endless depth of dark-blue water. I swam down the tunnel covered by gigantic sponges that make up a delicate rug of shadows and shades. On the other side, coral abysses make us catch our breath and stand still at 115 feet below, while a reef gray shark swims around along the wall, right under me.

As I descend to the coral gardens, the silver-hued reflection of light dazzles me. The closer I get the sooner I discover a small school of African pompanos that flap in their fancy shapes. All of a sudden, I recall the feeling of being linked to the sea, a sensation of amazement and admiration that makes me say to myself, “That's what I'm here for.”

One of my favorite scuba diving sites in Cuba is on the other side of the island, in a canal not far from the northeastern city of Santa Lucia. This is one of the few places in the world where divers can stare at unprotected guides feeding huge and mighty bull sharks of over three yards long.

During one of my recent visits, I happened to see a dive master plunge into the water and swim close to the pack. He carried a bag of dead fish and a harpoon. We saw him make his way to the tethered buoys. Shortly after that, we all jumped into the water and dogged a second dive master.

I took the air out of my vest to go down to fifty feet. We quickly swam past the flotsam and knelt on the sandlot in a position assigned to each and every one of us. The first dive master was waiting for us and he immediately began to wave a piece of dead fish in the water. My eyes were glued on the deep blue, searching. Clang, clang, clang; I heard the dive master hitting his air tank, as if he were ringing a mealtime bell. Suddenly, I distinguished a huge shadow in the horizon that sent my heartbeats racing. False alarm! It was just a humongous 330-lb. black mero. A few seconds ticked by and then I saw it! It was a huge 3-yard-long, 1,100-lb. bull shark. He came out of the blue… and then another one showed up. The first two sharks came up coyly, as if they were sizing us up. One of the bull sharks, still hesitant and somewhat shy, bit the dead fish straight from the dive master's hand. Sooner than later, more sharks turned up for the feast. I counted four, five of them. One of them was a big tiger shark that I believe was a three-yard-long 1,250 pounder.

When all the bait was gone, we swam slowly to Mortera, all shrouded with orange-hued and yellowish elephant's-ear sponges. We paused for a moment to feed Margarita, a friendly two-and-a-half-yard-long green morel eel. The other dive master was right behind our backs with his harpoon in hand, making sure that no shark was sneaking up on us. We soon swam out of Mortera's different holes. Sometimes we found our bodyguard waiting for us next to a crevice. As soon as the undercurrent began to go stronger, we made our way back to the shore. Forty minutes later, we had had an exciting scuba diving experience with sharks and a spectacular immersion down to a sunken ship.

Next, Amy recounts her experiences in a zone known as Jardines de la Reina and on the so-called floating hotel, launched to the water for the first time ever back in 1991. She refers to some privileged sites for the practice of this kind of water sport, spots like Los Sabalos, La Meseta de los Meros, Coral Negro II and El Farallon, where, “before the boat engines are off, you can make out the silhouette of silky sharks flitting graciously under the surface. They were swimming in circles, looking for dregs of food. I slowly swam into the realm of these silky sharks. They forgave my interference as I slid along seventeen beauties. Light rays coming from above the surface were shining down on their sleek bodies, and I didn't want to go back to my own world. For me, diving in Cuba arouses a heavenly connection with nature, something that brings both peace and passion.”