The other night we went to bed anchored in Bahia Los Frailes, one of only two boats in the anchorage, the full moon illuminating the high clouds in the east and making the long strip of beach glow white. A few hours later we were up and motoring toward Cabo San Lucas while 6 planets, with a 7th to join soon, lined up in that vast sky above. The celestial display was like a review of everything I learned about the planets and stars when I was a kid. Then, Cabo, the Big Party at the bottom of the Baja, a drastic contrast to the beauty and solitude of a remote anchorage or a night passage under full moon. The bars on the beach blast music - mostly bad, and the DJ from one particular bar rages on at full volume, spilling onto the beach, the restaurants on all sides, and into the anchorage, leading games, contests, goading everyone into a zipped up tequila-drinking frenzy. Worst of all, he sings "Happy birthday to you" and a lot of "Happy marriage to you" terribly off-key.

But it's okay. We're finally on the Grand Adventure, the Bucket List Box Checker that I've alluded to for the last few months. Because so many things conspired to thwart this endeavor, I was hesitant to speak too soon, plus, we're still learning about it. But here it is: we're on our way to the Revillagigedos Archipelago, a UNESCO World Heritage Site and national park 200 miles south of Cabo San Lucas, to do some serious and amazing diving. Comprising 4 volcanic islands - San Benedicto, Socorro, Roca Partida and Clarion, the archipelago is located at the confluence of the north and south equatorial currents, with something mixed in about the California current, making it a nutrient-rich place to hang out for migrating humpback and other whales, and a full-time home for hammerhead sharks, giant manta ray, tuna, tiger sharks, silky sharks, and oh so much more.

Spending time with these pelagic creatures is a goal we've had since 2010, when we pondered a quick stop after setting out on our Pacific crossing. At the time, it was upwind, would add at least 5 days to our already long passage ahead, and would consume more of our precious stores of food, water, and fuel. So, in concert with our crew, Greg and Tiffany, we made the decision to keep going toward French Polynesia. We can't say we regret it, because we know now that we were woefully underprepared for a diving stop in the Revillas, but since then it's been at the top of our long Bucket List. Finally, 15 years later, it's time.

I started investigating all I could about taking our boat to this special place, and here's what I've learned: the islands are a top destination for dive boats, bringing as many as 4000 divers per year from around the world to spend time in the pristine environment. The diving is challenging: strong currents, deep dive sites, rocky anchor-eating anchorages, and tough restrictions on diving make this a place you don't go alone. You don't go unprepared. You don't go without knowledge of exactly where to drop anchor, and other important things like, when the ash is spewing from the volcano on San Benedicto, don't be downwind! Most importantly, you need someone to run "top cover" (probably not a real diving term) in the dinghy while divers are in the water, since the divers may surface in a much different place than they went down due to the strong currents. Anchoring the dinghy and diving off is largely not possible in the deep water, and not allowed in most places, to protect the coral and not entangle the mantas. CONANP*, the national park system in Mexico, tightly regulates the visits, restricting the number of divers that can go in the water at a time, the required distance to maintain from critters, the tossing of garbage, food and other waste, and the soaps and cleaners that are washed into the sea from the boat. We're stocked with reef-safe sunscreen, dish soap, and shampoo, will not dump our holding tanks while at anchor (we never do that anyhow, eeewwww!) and will not be tossing food scraps out the window or, in the warning words of a fellow cruiser who spent many months in the Revillas, we'll have sharks circling our boat for days. In Frailes we scrubbed the slime and barnacles off the bottom of the boat, since we can't do that in the Revillas in order to avoid introducing invasive species.

All of this is why we're glad we didn't make that quick, unprepared diversion in 2010. And, also why we were in a bit of a quandary about our planned visit - it had become apparent that we needed a buddy boat for this adventure, and we had no idea how to find one. To begin with, the permit process to visit the park is daunting. There's a steep daily charge to be in the park - $100/day per person, and I heard that CONANP was doubling that this year. Luckily, as retirees, we're exempt, one of the few good things about growing old. Applying for the permit requires writing to CONANP (in Spanish) and supplying piles of documents to support the fact that you're on a sound, insured and legally owned boat, that you're divers who have advanced certifications or better and have dive insurance, that you have read and understood the 8,000,000 page document that lays out the rules, in Spanish, and lastly, for us, proof of our retirement status. So I did all that, with the help of others who had done it before, and after a few back-and-forth's with the park office we were awarded a month's visit in January with an official park stamp and everything. We paid our annual park fee and can now visit any of the national parks in Mexico. But still, finding another boat, with the permit, the time, and the soaps, how would we do that?

Well, leave it to my socially-inclined husband Allan, who fell into conversation one day in the boat yard in Ensenada with a newly-arrived couple, Derek and Deneb. Turns out, they were headed to the Revillas as well, in January, and moreover - best-ever - Daneb, a marine biologist, had been a park ranger on the islands for 4 years. (Giant exclamation marks!) She has recently formed a non-profit, the Centro Interdisciplinarion en Ciencias Aplicadas de Baja California Sur, commencing a 2-year study on shark cleaning stations, called, appropriately, "The Cleaning Stations Project." The'll live aboard their boat, s/v Amphitrite, and make multiple trips per year, basing out of La Paz, Baja California. Amphitrite is a beautiful boat, but currently not equipped with a dive compressor or a water maker. (This won't to stop Derek and Deneb, who are frugal with their water, and because of Deneb's connections in the islands and with the dive boats, tank fills are possible, although difficult.) But we have those things, and a great boat from which to stage. Deneb has intimate knowledge of the dive sites, the rules (she helped write them!) and the complex dance that makes up this whole adventure. You see where this is going? By the end of the conversation a mutually-supportive union had been formed, and we've been planning and fine-tuning ever since.

And trying to surmount the numerous inevitable events that conspired to thwart the endeavor. Things like the failure of the dive compressor a month ago, the multi-layered drama of getting a replacement compressor motor shipped to Mexico, Allan getting sick, Alison getting sick, Alison bruising a rib a few weeks ago, old dive gear finally giving up the ghost, and other things I've already conveniently forgotten. But the compressor got fixed in the 11th hour thanks to my smart husband and his creative and talented mechanical skills, and, icing on the already good cake, we were loaned a second compressor by my friend Ricardo. We got over the whatever illnesses beset us, bought new gear, tested it out, and my rib, although annoying, isn't going to stop me from diving with giant manta rays.

More about Deneb: raised in La Paz by marine biologist parents, she earned her master's degree in Marine Biology and in 2018 went to work for CONANP, helping to set up the newly-formed Revillagigedos National Park. She worked as a park ranger for 4 years, making months-long trips to the islands on Navy ships or dive boats, living ashore or on the boats, and was in charge of all marine monitoring. In that realm, she met her husband, Derek, a Canadian diver, sailor and ocean conservationist, and together, they have come to this point - the formation of the non-profit that would, under its umbrella, continue numerous projects in ocean conservation and education. They are both passionate about their work, and we, as kids who grew up watching The Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau and harboring secret dreams to be marine biologists, are thrilled to assist, even if just for a short time.

After a 6am call each morning on the radio to coordinate the dive schedule with the dive boats in the area, Daneb will have a plan for our day. She'll dive down to around 95 feet to set up cameras on several of the known shark cleaning stations in the islands to record the behavior of the critters that come to visit. One of the hopes is to learn more about how the presence of divers affects the operation of the station. Do critters in need tend to stay away if divers are there? Do they leave and possibly miss out on critical care? The results of this study will inform CONANP and other scientists if further restrictions are necessary to protect the animals that come to the cleaning stations for this critical care. We'll join her on the dives, assist where we can, run top support when Derek wants to dive, fill dive tanks, fill water jugs, make vegetarian chili, and generally try to be very Jacques-Cousteau-esque, although Allan refuses to wear one of those tiny French bathing suits.

Let's talk about cleaning stations: these are not man-made places with drive-through service, but rather, locations in the ocean that the fish somehow establish - how they do it is a mystery. There are no signs and I'm not sure how they advertise, but apparently the word gets out. The cleaner fish - shrimp, gobi, wrasse, and angel fish to name just a few, are highly-trained and waiting for customers like sharks, mantas, mola-mola and many others to stop in for a nice de-bugging. The cleaner fish tend to the important business of cleaning wounds, removing parasites and bacteria from teeth, gums, skin. It's a win-win for all: although no money is exchanged, the big fish get a makeover, the little fish don't get eaten. It's a beautiful thing, an underwater miracle, and we get to learn more about it in one of the top dive spots on this amazing planet, with a marine biologist as our guide. You can learn more by checking out the link I put below, and/or by re-watching one of my favorite movies, Finding Nemo.

So, barring any other endeavor-thwarting events, we'll be in the water with giant mantas the size of living rooms in just a few days, keeping a sharp eye on the tiger sharks and hoping to spot a shy hammerhead in the distance. We plan to go through as many as 8 dive tanks per day, so we're grateful for the extra compressor, muchas gracias amigo Ricardo. We're stocked with food for a month, since the only thing in the islands is a small Navy base, and we're not allowed to go ashore anyhow. No groceries, fuel, trash cans or boat washes until we get to Barra de Navidad in mid-February. I'll be posting a few blurbs from the islands, since we'll have the Starlink in Priority Data mode (which means no Netflixing or Facebook scrolling, but email is good, phones work in Face Time or WhatsApp.)

In summary, we couldn't be more excited and proud to be part of the project. Speaking of which, it's a start-up, and looking for funding. I've put the link the website below, and if you're an ocean conservationist type looking for a fun place to donate a bit of extra cash, here it is.

More about giant mantas, lurking sharks, scrubby cleaner fish, rocky anchorages and trip-of-a-lifetime adventures in the weeks to come!

* CONANP - Comisión Nacional de Áreas Naturales Protegidas

Ps: I figured out how to make these links work, so click away!

Click here for Deneb's Website

Cleaning Stations:
https://ultimatedivetravel.com/cleaning-stations/

Our tracker, and current weather:
https://forecast.predictwind.com/tracking/display/SV_FlyAweigh/