The whole story started when I wanted to go diving with the manta rays in Tobago. Unfortunately, at that time, the trip for a family of five like mine proved out to be a little bit too pricey for my shallow purse. It is then that the owner of Aquadreams, the very professional Gene Dold (Aquadreams which has its web site onwww.aquadreams.com, is a travel agency based in Miami and specialised in diving packages, with a focus on Caribbean islands; its prices are very much lower than comparable England based travel agencies and the service offered is first class [e.g., a specific email is sent to you to give you the UPS reference of a parcel that has been sent to you; the tickets for the trip came with a lot of documentation on the island and on the diving there; all questions are answered at once]), came with a suggestion which sounded more or less like “Why not try Curacao, one of the best kept secrets of the Caribbean islands?”

After some investigations (among other things, best thanks to Nigel Turner and Iona Hill who gave some very comprehensive answers to some of the questions which I had put on a divers' forum), I decided to give it a go and I must say that I have not had any single regret about it at any time.

If I were to describe the diving in Curacao at the Sunset Beach Waters Resort in a few words, it probably would be: “Easy relaxed diving on a magnificent resident reef, best dived at nights when all other divers are asleep, leaving you free to focus on what you want”.

But to give some inner feeling about diving in Curacao, let me try to make you share the sensations during one of these night dives:

“It is 9:00 o'clock p.m. and the beach is completely empty and pitch dark, except for the projector light and for the spare bulbs that are kept running at all times around the diving club, just to help the divers get ready. My buddy and myself are strangely silent, probably due to some primal nocturnal fears. When we arrive at the diving club, as agreed upon with Harry, the Dutch owner of the diving club, two tanks are waiting for us, bright yellow against the surrounding darkness, our own little lighthouses. We retrieve our equipment from the club locker and we gear up without exchanging a word, focusing on the “task” ahead.

After the usual checks (strange how at nights, such routine checks are even more important than during daytime to keep your mind from wandering onto more sinister thoughts), we walk the few meters of white sand that separate us from the sea and easily enter the refreshing waters within the boundaries of an artificially made lagoon. After taking our compass bearings, we hover over the ripples of the sand to the open sea, encountering in our way some ghostly grey snappers (Lutjanus griseus), which quickly swim out of sight.

Soon after, we come across the remains of a small plane sunk on purpose for try-dives. In the light of our torches, it comes out brightly lit in orange by all the orange cup corals (Tubastraea coccinea) that festoon it and only open at night to reveal their striking colour. This is a truly magnificent sight!

But, it is time for bigger things and we swim away to deeper grounds. A couple of fin strokes take us to the edge of the shallow waters and we peep into what we know to be almost infinite depths (during daytime, we have been able to get a glimpse of what lies down there and it seemingly goes down forever and ever, up to…150 meters, according to the local divers). We glide effortlessly down until we reached the agreed upon depth of 20 meters where we adopt a more horizontal course.

The first thing that strikes me is the variety of corals: although I am not an expert, I can easily make out more than ten different varieties in terms of forms, colours or shapes. Everywhere around them, hundreds of marine creatures are busy finding their way and food, from small, transparent larvae that hover in the open and which you can only notice at night when your torch lights them, up to some very large specimen of Caribbean spiny lobsters (Panulirus argus) and hairy clinging crabs (Mithrax pilosus), very similar to spider crabs. In between these two extremes, when looking carefully in all nooks and crannies and waiting long enough to detect movements, I can see little banded coral shrimps (Stenopus hispidus) which are commonly seen at cleaning stations, some Pederson cleaner shrimps (Periclimenes pedersoni) with their transparent bodies and their purple legs, several blue-eye hermits (Paguristes sericeus) as well as a delicate banded clinging crab (Mithrax cinctimanus) in the middle of a giant anemone (Condylactis gigantea).

Then, all of a sudden, a startling spot of bright turquoise colour catches my eye and I see a specimen of a juvenile Caribbean Reef octopus (Octopus briareus). For some unknown reason, he likes my torch and decides to spend some time playing like a young pup with me, swimming back and fro between the reef and me. Eventually, it disappears in the darkness below, changing colour at the very last moment from its original turquoise to a dark orange.

Then, something more sinister then slowly edges its way in the area lit by my torch and a hunting purplemouth moray (Gymnothorax vicinus) comes to investigate all interstices to find its “catch of the day”. The way this moray thoroughly and methodically investigates all potential hides, one after the other, leaving no ground unexplored, gives me the creeps and leaves me sorry for the fish that have hidden there. All of sudden, it does not seem a good idea anymore for a fish to hide in the reef during the night, especially if you consider the number of morays that hunt there and their methodical hunting process.

Other morays like the spotted morays (Gymnothorax moringa) which I observed during the same night dive, also seem to hunt in a similar pattern, gliding stealthily and deathly from one hole to the next, up and down. Later, I even get the chance to watch one when it catches a prey: in a split second, it is over. The frenetic moves stop, the water calms down and the moray resumes its quest for some more food.

By the time we have seen all these things, we have to get back to shore: using the shallow wreck of the airplane as an indicator to the way out, we are soon back to the club where it is difficult to acknowledge that already an hour and a half has gone by in what had seemed to be a ten-minute dive at the most.

Next time for sure, I will bring an underwater camera!

A survey conducted by the English Tourist Board has revealed what the English public considers the “Seven Wonders of Britain”. Participants in the survey were asked to select their choices from a short list of 17 possibilities within England. Here are the results of the survey:

1 . . . Houses of Parliament and Big Ben
2 . . . Stonehenge, Wiltshire
3 . . . Windsor Castle, outer London
4 . . . Eden Project, Cornwall
5 . . . York Minster, Yorkshire
6 . . . Hadrian's Wall, up North!
7 . . . London Eye, London

Source: http://www.britainexpress.com

Readers may recall that for the last couple of months, we have had an appeal by Mike who was looking for his friend Bob, who was sailing around the South Pacific. Well, the good news is that Bob, Mike's friend did get in touch, so all is well. But here is a quick but fascinating piece on how Mike got to know Bob, and Bob's sailing adventures.

I, as a young engineer fresh from university, first met Bob in 1962. He had done an apprenticeship as a watchmaker and was therefore a “real” engineer in my eyes. After some initial arguments we became good friends and have kept in contact, even when I changed to medicine. About fifteen years ago he decided to sail, and bought an aluminium 40 ft sloop from a Count in Brittany, who had gone bankrupt. It was a bare hull with sails and engine, and Bob moved it to the garden of his bungalow near Chichester, and spent the next twelve years fitting it out.

He did a beautiful job, but did not have the funds to buy electronic navigational equipment; he uses a sextant. He was going to call his yacht Rabia, after my wife, but we thought that would be unwise because Rabia means rabies in Spanish. Two or three years ago, I lose track of time, he set off for Australia with his son. Their main problem was finding experienced crew because neither of them knew much about sailing. Bob's son soon gave up and returned home, and Bob has continued with anyone that he can pick up on the way. Recently he spent five months in the Marquesas looking for crew, and eventually found a treasure hunter searching for fifteen tons of gold in Tuamotu. They found lots of sharks instead. He has reached Pago Pago in Samoa and is wondering what to do after he has landed at Australia, sell the boat and retire, or carry on sailing.

If there's only one trip you do in Seoul, it should be this one. The iron curtain has gone from Germany but is alive and well here. You have to take a tour. ON this occasion, the tour bus was 98% Japanese, just me and an American guy who spoke English, so we got the front seats and a guide to ourselves, and as we listened, we had the Japanese snoring champion behind us!

Panmunjon is the site of the UN base Camp Boniface, named after a UN Soldier murdered by the North Koreans. You are taken to Ballinger Hall, where you get a slide show showing the history and what you are going to be seeing. It's at this point you have to sign a disclaimer form saying you won't blame them if the North Koreans take a pot shot at you while you are on the tour!

The Observation post is next, where you look across to “Propoganda Village” an uninhabited North Korean village that has a 160 metre high flagpole, this dwarfs the 100 metre high one at Freedom village on the South Korean side. You look down also on the 4 huts, 3 blue and one silver where occasional peace talks take place. Then you cross the road and enter blue hut number 2, inside is a table with microphones down the middle.

Outside North Korean guards peer in at you, you are allowed to take photos surprisingly. But the two sets of guards glower at each other through their sunglasses, so they cannot make eye contact. The Southern guards have only half their body showing, so they are less of a target!

Back at Camp Boniface you have an all you can eat “All American” buffet lunch, chicken, sweet corn, potatoes, etc etc. You are then free to buy a T-shirt or other souvenir. By the gate is “The worlds most dangerous golf hole”! If you slice from here you won't get your ball back!

Buzz is in the Beetle's opinion the only decent low cost airline. On board information includes useful hints and tips about your destination, what to do and where to stay, and what's more, you can keep it! Yes, you have to pay for your food, but the service is far superior to a carrier such as Ryan Air. From 27 October 2002, Buzz will be flying up to six flights a day from London Stansted to Amsterdam, the land of Vermeer and Amstel beer. Prices start from just £21 one way – so you've got no excuse not to visit one of the most relaxed, vibrant and cosmopolitan cities in Europe. Buzz are also launching their new winter schedule: from 27 October 2002 until 29 March 2003, you can fly to some great winter destinations – and from 14 December, they are reopening their routes to Chambéry and Geneva – great for planning a cheap skiing holiday. See www.buzz.co.uk