I’m swimming about 20 feet down through a colorful reef off the coast of Isla de Coiba. My dive buddy Chuck Holton comes around a corner of the reef, making a fin shape on the top of his head and pointing behind him—the universal scuba signal for shark.
So what do I do? I head right for the spot he’s pointing to. I swim over a small outgrowth of coral and see below me about 8 feet worth of whitetip reef shark tucked into a small overhang.
Thought No. 1: Dude, you’re swimming toward a shark!
Thought No. 2: He’s probably more afraid of you than you are of him.
Thought No. 3: That was probably the last thought that went through the heads of a lot of guys who are now dead!
Shark Hunting—With a Camera
Thought No. 2 turned out to be correct. As I drifted closer to the shark, all the better to get a picture of him, he darted off with a swish of his tail. That was OK. There were plenty of sharks and fish where we were diving.
I was on a five-day dive adventure around this island about 30 miles off the Pacific coast of Panama. Coiba for years had been a prison colony, but eventually all the prisoners were released, and the island and its surrounding waters were declared a game reserve, meaning no hunting or fishing.
I’ve been diving nearly 30 years in the Pacific, Indian and Atlantic oceans, the Caribbean and Red seas, but nowhere have I seen more fish in one place—clouds of them swimming around the reefs surrounding the tropical island. And where there are fish, there’s bound to be sharks. We saw plenty of whitetips, some bull sharks and a hammerhead. But they didn’t seem very interested in us; why bother with something close to your own size when there’s plenty of chow swimming around for the taking?
Our dive team consisted of me, Chuck (yep, the same one who writes for Breakaway), Charles Thomas and professional wildlife photographer Stephen Kirkpatrick. We spent the week living aboard the Miss Bess, a 50-foot converted fishing boat captained by Carlos Spragge. It wasn’t exactly spacious, especially after bringing aboard dive gear for four guys, but the food was good and the diving great.
Because of heavy weather and high surf on the island’s west side, we confined ourselves to the eastern and northern reefs. That still left a lot of unexplored territory to check out, including an islet to the north called Granita del Oro (Grain of Gold), presumably because of its golden-sand shore. That was a prime viewing grounds for sea turtles, one of which circled me four or five times as I madly rewound my camera for shot after shot.
Coiba as a dive destination is so new that many of its waters remain unexplored. It was a thrill to realize that ours were probably the first human eyes to see some of the deeper reefs that are beyond snorkeling range—both in depth and distance from shore.
On one of our deeper dives—about 90 feet down—we saw a huge school of spadefish, the light glinting off the silvery-black mass of their bodies as the entire school turned on a dime. In other spots, teeny-tiny, rainbow-hued fish quivered among the nooks and crannies of the coral as curious humans looked on. Slithery morays slipped among the coral while brightly colored sergeant major fish, Moorish idols and triggerfish swam by in huge schools. Colorful starfish hugged the rocks and coral at the bottom.
And then I realized something: Man has been scuba diving only since 1943, when Jacques Cousteau co-invented the scuba regulator. From the beginning of time until 1943, these beautiful fish lived in their own world, most likely unseen by human eyes. Yet they were just as beautiful, created that way by God for His own good pleasure. He made them beautiful simply for the sake of making them beautiful. That tells you a lot about the God we worship.
Diving Dangers
Scuba diving is not just beautiful fish and sea turtles. While the sharks were pretty much content to leave us alone, we still had to be careful around them. And there were plenty of stingrays in the sandy spots, although they tend to leave you alone if you leave them alone.
Then there were the small nasties. One time in about 35 feet of clear water, everything suddenly got blurry. I thought something was wrong with my mask or vision—until I felt tiny stings all around my mouth and ears. We’d swum into a mass of tiny jellyfish, and the microscopic blobs were stinging the tender flesh on my face. These jellyfish are called agua mala—bad water. It was bad water, indeed, and it took a good dose of cortisone back on the boat to keep my face from swelling into a mass of red splotches.
But the agua mala were nothing compared to the salt-water crocodiles that inhabit the island’s waters. We saw one big boy, easily 8 or 9 feet long, sunning himself near a beach. (So that’s what ¡Peligro! ¡Cocodrilos en Estas Aguas! meant on the sign at the ranger station.)
And there were all-too-human dangers. The Panamanian authorities still maintain a strong military presence around Coiba, mostly to keep out poachers, but also because it’s not far from the coast of Colombia, in prime drug-running waters. In fact, a few weeks before we arrived, Panamanian police had made a major drug bust on Coiba as smugglers tried to hide their stash in the jungle.
I stayed behind one morning while everyone else explored the ruins of the abandoned prison. As I enjoyed coffee on the Miss Bess, a fast boat flying the Panamanian flag and sporting a .50 caliber machine gun on the bow roared up to our humble craft. The uniformed paramilitary police defined the expression no-nonsense, and as they boarded the Bess I wowed them with my extensive knowledge of Spanish: No hablo español.
They laughed. I offered them each a Coke out of the cooler—wait, does that count as a bribe!?—and then motioned that I was going to call the captain on the radio. Let’s say I walked briskly to the cockpit and called repeatedly for Carlos. Finally, through binoculars I could see Carlos board the launch and come racing out to the Bess.
It turned out the police had seen fresh tracks up a beach into the jungle, which could have meant either poachers or drug smugglers. Because ours was the only boat in the area, we were prime suspects. Actually, those tracks had been made by Chuck and Steve earlier that morning as they went looking to take pictures of crocs. Carlos explained, and the police seemed satisfied. (If we were bad guys, would we be hanging around a half-mile offshore just waiting for the police?) They socialized a bit with Carlos and were on their way—but not before warning us to stay off the beaches and out of the jungles. The .50 cal was all the convincing I needed.
Going Deeper
Through that week of adventure, I learned several things. I learned that God loves beauty, whether or not anyone else actually sees that beauty. That tells me I should strive to be “beautiful” in all I do, not because anyone is watching—although God certainly is—but to do it simply for its own sake.
I learned that there’s something special and God-honoring about Christian guys hanging out doing fun and slightly dangerous things. (Not shaving or taking a shower for several days adds to the, umm . . . atmosphere, too.) There’s something inherently good about this kind of fellowship, and it affirms the way God makes men.
I learned to trust what I know. Even after decades of diving, I’ll find myself occasionally seized with a brief moment of fear when I consider how much water is between me and fresh air. But I trust my equipment—which I’ve taken good care of—and I trust my training. I also trust my dive partners to be there if I need help. It’s kind of like living a life of faith. As young David confronted Goliath, he remembered the times God had delivered him from danger in the past. (Check out 1 Samuel 17:36-37.) I, too, can remember the times God has been faithful to His Word.
And I learned that I love to scuba dive—even after all these years. If you’d like to learn more about this fun sport, check out your local dive shop. There are wondrous worlds waiting to be discovered. And if you’re afraid of the water, find something you’re passionate about and pursue it full speed ahead. Life is for living, and you can go deep in anything God has called you to do. 
