The University Scuba Club's association with Cozumel, Mexico has been a long fun filled friendship between its divers and this wonderful Caribbean dive spot. Cozumel crossed my life twice before I was to actually go there. My first encounter was in the early 60's when my Aunt Cola was visiting my home and showed slides of her travels. Aunt Cola was an artist and world traveler. She shared my interest in photography. That evening in addition to showing slides of her European travels, she showed slides of the tiny island of Cozumel. She had been on a cruise and had stopped there. She commented how clear and blue the water was and she thought that I should go scuba diving there. It was not until years later and after I had made several trips to Cozumel, did I realize and remember that she had been there first and recommended it to me.
 

My second encounter with Cozumel came at the University of Texas at Austin where I lived in a men's Co-op, the Campus Guild. There, in the mid 60's I lived with about 60 men and met Bill Albert and Jimmy Craig. Bill was already a world traveler and adventurer. Jimmy shared my love of the guitar. We lived in the same wing of the Campus Guild. Bill and Jimmy once drove all the way to Cozumel from Austin, camping along the way. Once they reached Cozumel they slept on the beach and convinced the local policemen to allow them to stay in the jail as a hotel. Needless to say, they did this on the cheap! Bill told me this story many times. I was impressed. I too wanted to visit the jail of Cozumel. Some years later, I got my wish.
 

Some of the early University Scuba Club's members attempted to drive down to Cozumel from Austin to scout this new dive spot. Instead, they ended up at Isla de Mujeres, a tiny island just north of Cozumel.  From their reports, the first club trip to Cozumel occurred around 1968 and was a roaring success. In the Fall of 1968, the Club had a Cozumel promotional Spring break trip meeting over at Judy Abrahamson's apartment just off Guadalupe. Larry Carrol showed slides and narrated about the Club's upcoming adventure. The round trip cost would be $125 plus your meals. I excitedly signed up to go in March of 1969. During the coming year, I would speak to other members about how we were looking forward to going on the trip. This would be my first experience in leaving the United States.
 

Our transportation was arranged by Sanborn's Travel Agency. This agency specialized in travel in Mexico. We car pooled to Laredo. On the way there, some of us spent the night at the home of Kenneth Benight's parents in Corpus Christi. I remember eating at the Ship Ahoy Restaurant that evening. In Laredo, all the Club members met and spent the night in a motel. After breakfast the next morning, we took a chartered bus over to Reynosa, Mexico and over to its airport.

Another twin engine plane would fly us over at early evening into the tiny island village of  San Miguel in Cozumel. Our faces were glued to the plane's windows as we were coming in for a landing. We were trying to catch a glimpse of the night lights of the small town of San Miguel, Cozumel where we would spend the next week. After passing through customs, a barrage of vendors, money changers, chiclet salesmen, special hotel deal men, and taxi drivers would descend upon us. Our best deal with the taxi was made and off to Hotel Lopez we went. Hotel Lopez was a modest multi-story old hotel right off the central plaza of Cozumel. The hotel was owned by Senior Lopez who would bicycle to the hotel in the mornings. The floors were tile and the rooms had ceiling fans. A spiral staircase led to the upper floors and on the roof was a patio with chairs and tables where we could look out over the city plaza, roof tops, and out to the ocean.
 

From the outside as you would face Hotel Lopez, to the left, was a dry goods store where you could find all types of unique things. Immediately to the right of Hotel Lopez was an international phone center where you could make phone calls. To the right of this was the Chichen Itza Restaurant, named after the Mayan city of Chichen Itza. This was one of our main eating places. As Texans knowledgeable in many foreign languages, we called this the " Chicken Itza ". In the back of the restaurant was kept Honda 50cc. rental motorcycles. As you were sitting and eating, motorcycles were wheeled in or out depending on whether someone was renting or returning one for the day. Also, out front sat some Volkswagen Safari Wagons for rent.
 

Come the first morning, the club had several tasks to be accomplished. A couple of task forces were assigned. One was to the boat union and the other to the dive shops and maybe a lunch group. There was only one source of boats, the boat union. We had to go down and negotiate for a boat for the week. The price would be determined from how many days you needed it, how many dives per day, whether the boat captain provided food or you did, the quantity of soda pop, and whether you had a lunch excursion to San Francisco beach. Eventually a deal was struck. All boats were very similar and slow. They were tied up at the only pier on Cozumel. This is where you would lug your dive equipment to and from at the beginning of and end of each dive day. Hotel Lopez was about two blocks away. At the end of the day, it seemed like a long way away.

Palancar Reef is majestic, huge, awesome. These gigantic reef formations set on a slope into the depths are thrilling to the Texas diver. When currents run slowly, visibility seems to go forever and then fades into the deep blue. The diver has to constantly monitor depth or he will be too deep before he realizes it. Current is the one thing that a diver has to be aware of. When currents get too swift to anchor, drift diving takes place.
 

Back then, all the union boats looked alike. About the only difference was the name on the bow. Frequently many union boats would be anchored in a small area. I remember coming aboard the wrong boat after a dive. As more divers came aboard, I began to realize that I was on the wrong boat. Then back into the water to swim around to the various boats to play " Does anyone know who I am and where I am suppose to go? ". Johnny Honeycutt once got separated from his dive buddy. When Johnny came to the surface, he got swept out to sea by the strong currents. After everyone was aboard, we eventually noticed a small human speck on the horizon and motored over to pick him up. It was a very unsettling feeling to not have one of your divers come back. All were shook up by this and greatly relieved to have him back on board.
 

One of the most amazing things about our diver Roger Bakeman was his negative buoyancy and how little air he used. Roger could wear a wet suit top, no weight belt, dive in salt water and be neutrally buoyant. Also, his air would last twice as long as any diver doing the same dive profile. He would use one steel 70 on two dives. Roger had been a former aquanaut in the Tektite project.
 

Lunches were taken in various manners. Sometimes we would have the boat captain provide it. Many times they would fix us cerviche made from the conch snail. The captain or an assistant would snorkel down 15 to 40 feet and pick up the conch. A hole was made in the top of the shell and a knife was inserted to cut the attachment muscle so the snail could be pulled out. Eventually a small piece of white rubbery meat was extracted and cut into small pieces. These were placed in a bowl with tomato, onions, spices and lime juice and let sit for about 30 minutes. The cerviche was served with crackers and soda pop. We were all amazed how a nice meal could be gathered from the ocean in such short order.
 

Sometimes we would pay extra and have lunch prepared for us on San Francisco beach. Cerviche plus fish caught on a hand line were prepared for us. Barracuda sliced like little discs and cooked over an open fire was mighty tasty. We would eat lunch at a table sitting under a thatched roof. Other times we would buy sandwich material at the market and have it aboard at noon. Lots of cheese from Holland could be bought and interesting canned lunch meats could be had. Once we had a meat that was a flourescent hot pink color. At this particular lunch, Doug Comer was sea sick and laying on top of the boat's cabin. I got next to his head and called his name and as he turned over, opened one of these hot pink babies for Doug to see. An instant moan of nausea hit Doug! The meat was quite good, but I have never seen such a thing before or since.

One night while eating dinner at the Chichen Itza, a group of us were talking about how we were going to arrange to go diving the next day. It seems that all the union boats were taken. We were a little gloomy over the idea of losing one day of diving. Up roars Luis Torres, wearing a black patch over one eye, on a Honda 50 motorcycle. He asks us if there was anything that we needed. Joe Jordan asks if he has any boat connections. Luis assures us that he can get us a boat and that will take us across the Yucatan channel over to dive the mainland coast. We were all excited about this.

The club's own pirate, Joe Jordan!

Joe JumpsWhile Barbara Neyland Looks On!

Generally, during the mid-part of the week, we would take one day of from diving and rest. We would rent motorcycles or Volkswagen convertibles and tour around the island. On the east side was the windward side with large waves. North on this side was some small Mayan coastal temples and a working lighthouse.  Cozumel's small shops had black coral jewelry made from black coral collected deep off Cozumel. Most of us at one time or another bought some of this. Some of us stopped at a small black coral factory outside of town. It was just a thatched hut where people were polishing and sculpturing the coral. Some of the group would take a ferry over to the mainland and go see the ruins of Chichen Itza.
 

When we had a large group going to Cozumel, we sometimes had to split the group up between Hotel Lopez and a house we would rent along the ocean front. As any traveler knows who frequently goes back to the same place over a period of time, you get to know the residents of the island very well and feel like part of the Cozumel community. Another place of interest was the local museum locate just off the main plaza in the municipal building. Here were Mayan artifacts and shipwreck treasures. Also located in this building was the city jail. I would go down and play checkers with the policemen. I always lost, because they kept changing the rules on me! I also asked for a tour of the jail to see where Bill Albert and Jimmy Craig had stayed. I must say that I was glad that I was staying in a hotel. At one end of town was the local cemetery that was interesting to look around in.
 

Generally, the last night on the island, we would find a place to have " the last supper " and have a good time. On Saturday, we would fly back to Merida and spent the night and then fly back on Sunday. Saturday night we would go to the movies in Merida and Hotel hop. Many of the movies are in English with Spanish sub-titles. At Hotel Flamingo, I met the wife of Robert Marx. He is an underwater archaeologist, adventurer, and treasure hunter. She told me that he was trying to duplicate a Viking voyage across the ocean in the boat that was used in the making of the movie " The Vikings ". She said that he was absolutely crazy, as the boat was a movie prop and not really sea worthy. After, I got home, I eventually read accounts of his voyage. I believe the reports supported her view that the prop was a very poor boat.
 

It seems that traveling can be an endless journey if one has the right combination of time, luck, and money. One evening at the Chicken Itza, a rich American sailor was looking for some people to crew his boat back to Florida. Several of our club members took off with him. Well, this adventure became one that none of our young volunteers will ever forget. Foul weather caused some mechanical failures aboard and the food got wet and sea sickness abounded. The sailboat was renamed by crewman Dr. Wylie Jordan, "The S.S. Catastrophe". The floundering boat took about a week longer to get back to Florida. Once in port, the Immigration Officials hassled our members for not having correct immigration documents. Dr. Jordan worked at the U.T. Health Center as a medical doctor. Posted on his door was a sign that said, "Somewhere lost at sea!". At a future club meeting as we were looking at slides of our trip, a slide of the infamous sailboat was shown. Someone rocked the projector back and forth and one Dr. Jordan moaned out in agony in the darkness.
 

Other than occasional sea sickness, one or two members might be laid out a day or two due to "tourista, Montezuma's Revenge, or the Aztec Two-Step". However, the most serious accident occurred to our motorcycle riding Judy Abrahamson, trying to duplicate Steve McQueen's type of riding. It seems that she failed to negotiate a curve and ran into a ditch. She did this on the second day of the trip and spent the entire week in the hospital at Cozumel. She was well enough to leave the hospital on the day the group left to come back home. There is a picture of her sitting in her hospital bed that says it all. She was not a happy camper!
 

Over time travel arrangements changed. Car pool to Laredo. Bus to Mexico City. Fly to Merida and then to Cozumel and reverse process to get home. Eventually, one could fly directly from Houston. Cozumel has grown. It has lots of dive shops and no more boat union, and faster boats. One thing has not changed, great diving and adventure!