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News
of Turkeys earthquake carried up to Crystal River. Initial
reports indicated at 284 dead and hundreds more missing. I
listened intently as the tradegy unfolded, trying to comprehend
the immensity of it all. Ironically, just days before I had
'experienced' an earthquake measuring 8.3 on the Rictor Scale.
Sat in my train seat on an American subway, I had experienced
the ground opening up, concrete support pillars crumbling
under the weight of roads and buildings above, fire and flooding.
It must have been dreadful. The difference with me was that
I could get up out of my seat, walk through the 'attraction'
doors and back onto the Universal streets non the worst for
my ordeal.
Above
me inky black skies gave way to a crimson dawn. Unfamiliar
miles rolled past beneath me. Empty food wrappers and drink
cartons on the passenger seat, a crumpled map hanging into
the footwell made me feel like a real traveller, a journalist
on his way to his next article, and over the inane drivel
on the radio I just kept humming Simon and Garfunkel's 'America'.
'You
can't miss it,' Tom directed me the day before. 'It's
on highway 19, next to KFC.'
Despite
my hanging around the doors, I wasn't allowed in until 0800
on the dot. Kit hired, disclaimers signed and monies paid
myself and an American couple followed Dave Middlestadt down
to King Bay. With kit in hand we boarded the vessel - an aluminium
floating platform with an outboard and a canopy - and cast
off. It had the capacity for 22 snorkellers/divers Dave told
us. I felt a little conscious that we numbered just three.
'It's
a Hell of a lot easier with three!' Dave assured me.
As
we rounded the corner, I could see a similar vessel anchored
up. There were a number of snorkellers already in the water
and as I watched a solitary manatee surfaced, snorted and
submerged again.
'There's
two here!' came cries from the water.
My
kit was on. I was poised for an immediate entry. All was still.
And then away from the group another manatee rose. With the
vessel coming to a standstill I made my entry and finned gently
out to the site winding on my disposable. The manatee had
definitely been here. I couldn't see a thing.
King
Bay was a huge natural freshwater harbour fed by King Spring,
with depths rarely exceeding 2 metres. The whole area nominated
a wildlife haven, it offered every creature comfort a manatee
could wish for. During high season it was not uncommon to
swim with 50 or 60 and by all accounts there shouldn't have
been any around at all during our visit.
It
was quite an eerie sensation, swimming pretty much alone in
the vastness anticipating some huge mammal I had no previous
knowledge or experience of to come up at me out of the gloom.
Despite majority reports of their gentle nature, I had my
apprehensions!
It
was several minutes later before I had my first 'interaction'.
After many sightings - I decided that 'playing with the humans'
was not on their list, they were running rings around us quite
clearly - an inquisitive adult honoured us with its presence
and allowed us the privilege of administering some enthusiastic
T.L.C. Cautiously at first, the presence would lost just a
minute or so. But with the obvious pleasure of having its
back rubbed the visits would lost enough for us all to contribute.
You could almost see the pleasure across the big, happy face.
With back, head, fins and tummy rubbing going on, we were
all turning out to be quite agreeable.
I
wasn't sure what to expect on this package - you hear so many
stories of badly run tours with much energy and emphasis on
getting you in and out as quickly as possible. I was sceptical
and prepared to speak out. As it happened, I had no need.
We were in the water just after 0900 and were not in the least
rushed. In fact, Dove, 'never tiring of these interactions',
expressed so much enthusiasm for the day that I came away
with a good deal of admiration for him.
Approaching
midday we made our way around to King Spring. Dave and I would
dive, Stacey and Glenn could snorkel if they wished. With
my eagerness to dive the water clarity improved. A stride
entry and a decent to the 'manatee monument' displaying wise
words lovingly carved into a marble block headed with an equally
well sculptured manatee figure.
16
metres to the bottom and an opportunity to explore the large
limestone cavern, its walls encrusted with fossils, its floor
inhabited by shrimps. My torch beam bouncing around the ceilings
and walls would occasionally fall into shallow passageways.
Fixed on the entrance, I would follow the beam and, as safely
as possible, push myself a little way in. I could wholly understand
the desire to penetrate deeper, to explore and open new realms.
But alas, lack of experience and common sense prevailed. I
would live to dive again.
The
return to the jetty afforded us another opportunity with the
manatees. This time on a sandy shallow with a half submerged
post adopted by the creatures as a scratching station. A scratching
station that required no human 'interaction'.
I
had taken 27 shots on my disposable and a preview of the video
footage of the day secured me my own copy.
The
following day the sniffles began. The sneezing and coughing.
'Flu symptoms!' I thought. 'Weils disease!'
The conditions were right - still, freshwater. Manatee urine,
not to mention all the other bay inhabitants and visitors!
It could happen! And so it was, that I, Andy Clark, during
a once in a life time 'interaction' had contracted Leptospirosis.
Or so I had convinced myself.
It
was the developing news of the Turkish disaster - 14 thousand
dead, expecting to double, with thousands more missing - the
story I had started my day with, that made my self diagnosis
so ridiculous, and on the scale of things, so insignificant.
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