I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden in the shade
I love the bouncy Beatles tune. And I've always been attracted to the concept of visiting "the coral that lies beneath the waves." But here in reality -- as the crew of the Atlantis Submarine XV closes the hatch and the digital depth gauge at the front of the cabin begins describing our dive in big red numbers -- 20 ... 25 ... 30 feet below the surface -- I find myself more concerned about leaks than about any octopus' flower patch.
Earlier, 40 of us had climbed aboard the tender Sub Quest in St. Thomas' harbor. A 20-minute cruise took us to Turtle Cove near the Buck Island National Wildlife Refuge, where we met the Atlantis. As we arranged ourselves inside the cool, spotless interior of the 65-foot-long sub, the captain busied himself flipping switches and our guide recounted the vessel's perfect safety record. My only other submarine experience was Disney World's 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea ride, where I learned how to avoid giant squid. I didn't hear any mention of sea monsters lurking in the USVI, but I still had a nagging worry about water pouring in
Fifty ... 55 feet deep, and the silence inside the dimly lit sub makes me wonder if I'm not the only one listening for drips. Then the bizarre and beautiful world of the coral reef comes into view, greeted inside the Atlantis with a chorus of "oohs" and "aahs." Large round portholes glow blue in front of every seat, and soon each one, including mine, has a nose pressed to it. Stingrays wriggle into the ocean floor, raising clouds of sand; parrotfish flutter around a giant brain coral; and angelfish flit amid tall purple sponges. Sea fans sway in the current like seductive dancers beckoning us to join them. Long feathery plumes of gorgonians fall into the same watery rhythm as they gorge on plankton.
A horse-eye jack glides by just on the other side of the glass, peering right at me, and I suddenly realize that, down here, I'm the one in the fishbowl. A large, ungainly puffer waddles past. The strange-looking fish is minding its own business, but I'm still tempted to scream "Boo!" just to see if it'll blow up. The sub drops deeper, 75 ... 80 ... 85 feet. "Reef shark on the left!" our guide announces, and we all swivel to that side. "And there's another!"
The excited chatter caused by the shark sighting dies out as the captain steers the Atlantis into Snapper Valley, a canyon just a few feet wider than the sub. I hold my breath for a moment, remembering that perhaps I should be nervous, but then let it out in a happy sigh as I get a close-up view of the canyon's coral wall teeming with underwater life. Everyone aboard is totally immersed in the magical scene. Our guide stops his narration, turns up the music -- another Beatles tune -- and sits back to let us drink it all in.
And we lived beneath the waves
In our yellow submarine
For more information on the St. Thomas Atlantis Submarine Expedition, visit www.atlantisadventures.com.
Posted online 03/23/04.
