Building Memories (BM) uses personal experiences and relates them to topics of importance to building.
This BM explores cenote scuba diving in the jungles of Costa Maya, Mexico.
Scuba diving has been a lifelong passion, dating back to high school. In the summer of 1980, I lived on the Greek island of Zakynthos for two and a half months. During that time, we spent hours each day snorkeling and diving in search of “sunken treasure.”
Just off the coast, we discovered a shipwreck in about 20 feet of water. Although we never found treasure in the traditional sense—no gold, silver, or jewels—we did uncover an array of historical artifacts: pottery, a small cannon, and various handheld weapons. It was thrilling at the time, and only later did I learn that removing ancient artifacts in Greece was, in fact, very illegal.
Over the years, I’ve been fortunate to dive in some incredible places: the Hawaiian Islands, Wisconsin and Illinois quarries, various parts of the Caribbean Sea, Cozumel, the Cayman Islands, the Ionian Sea surrounding Zakynthos, and along the coast of Costa Maya, Mexico.
Among all these adventures, the most unforgettable experience was cenote diving in the jungles of Costa Maya.
Cenotes are natural sinkholes or underground water chambers with an opening to the surface. Over millennia, they’ve formed through geological shifts and erosion. Trekking through dense jungle and suddenly emerging into an open canopy that reveals an inviting pool leading to an underwater cavern is a remarkable prelude to any dive.
What makes cenote diving distinct from cave diving is light. In a cenote, you can always see sunlight filtering from the entrance—you’re never in complete darkness.
Each cenote we explored offered something unique. Some chambers were enormous; others, small and intimate. All were adorned with stunning stalactite and stalagmite formations, sculpted by time. Every cenote also features a halocline—the transition layer where saltwater and freshwater meet. Passing through it blurs your vision momentarily, but once you emerge, the water becomes crystal clear and still.
I vividly remember equalizing my buoyancy and floating motionless about 30 feet above the floor of a 60-foot-deep cavern, perfectly balanced. In that suspended silence, surrounded by ancient rock and soft rays of light filtering through the water, I felt as though I were flying.
It remains one of the most breathtaking experiences of my life—one that continues to stay with me to this day.