BITTEN

Salt Pond, Long Island, Bahamas 23º16.7N | 75º6.9W

A freediver waits on the dive platform at Dean's Blue Hole.

An exotic location, death-defying action, mystery and intrigue. It's not an Indiana Jones movie, it's a sports competition.

Next week, divers are converging at Dean's Blue Hole here in Long Island for a competition, where they will attempt to set and break world records for diving as deep as possible on a single breath. And I don't mean 30 feet. We're talking hundreds of feet down -- and then back up, dives that last two, three, four minutes.

I expected to be interested in the competition. I did not expect to get bitten hard by the journalism bug. I thought I had long since developed an immunity to that particular news bug, but this story has captivated me. So I've pitched it, literally thrown it out there to see if I can sell the concept.

And so we wait.

For word. For the competition.

In paradise.

NOT FOR TOURISTS

Salt Pond, Long Island, Bahamas 23º16.7N | 75º6.9W

Traveling by boat, we often skirt along the edges of the land, rarely penetrating the barrier between land and sea, between water people and land people. But sometimes, and not often enough, we find a doorway and sneak through, even for just a few hours.

Last Sunday in one of Long Island's tiny towns, I was looking at handmade straw purses in the back room of a small marine store.

"Those aren't for sale," the purse maker told me. "They're for the talent show at the church this afternoon."

So, at 4 o'clock, we paid our five dollars at the door, me and Chip, Karen and Dale, stood in line for our plates of homemade cake and cookies, and then awkwardly wedged ourselves into the last four plastic chairs near the front of the room, the only foreigners, at the Holy Cross Talent and Fashion Show.

Laughter, singing, prayer, babies, great grandmas, sulky teens, bright dresses, sweet people who didn't seem to be bothered at all by four white people in shorts crashing their church party -- or taking pictures of their children.

Husband hunter.

Not even the lady at our table who drove some 30 miles hopefully canvasing the gathering for a husband.

In finery from local shops, the islanders, young and old, promenaded across the stage, some shy, some buoyant, all relishing the coos and applause of an adoring crowd.

Between fashion sets, a thin teenage boy quietly sauntered onto the stage, while the announcer told us he was dedicating his song to his little sister, Zena.

The preacher's wife leaned over from the table next to us to inform us that his 10-year-old sister Zena died just a few months ago.

And through clear despair, without a hint of teen bravado, he labored through a recorded song by a rapper who lost a sister too. At the end of the song, he stopped by his grandmother's side for a long embrace. Though he never shed a tear, his face, his whole body exuded profound grief, and for just a moment, we felt it too.

And then, just like life, the show went on.

The whole scene a reminder that what is paradise to us is real life to those kind souls who live here.

Hat making contest.

The winner.

"Can I have this dance, for the rest of my life."

SIGHTS OF DEAN'S BLUE HOLE

Salt Pond, Long Island, Bahamas 23º16.7N | 75º6.9W

A tree growing on the edge of Dean's Blue Hole.

Karen coming out of the abyss.  Photo by Dale Thomas

Dale going down.   Photo by Chip

What are they doing, and why are they shouting, "BREATHE, BREATHE!"

My thoughts on Dean's Blue Hole.

My thoughts on Freediving.

The Women of Freediving

The Men of Freediving 

My article about Freediving in the New York Times.

BLUE OR BLACK?

Salt Pond, Long Island, Bahamas 23º16.7N | 75º6.9W

We drove our rental car down an inauspicious sand road, past an unassuming, handpainted sign that said simply:

DEANS BLUE HOLE 

TURN HERE

At the end of the road, we walked down a white sand path and into ....

Dean's Blue Hole.

Here are the facts: A blue hole is a vertical cave filled with water, or, in this case seawater. Dean's Blue Hole is circular at the surface about 100 feet in diameter, surrounded by shallow -- really shallow water -- and plummeting sharply to 663 feet at its center. Above water it is protected on three sides by craggy limestone cliffs and rocky hills. About 66 feet below the surface, it widens into an underwater cavern over 300 feet wide.

As usual the facts don't tell the story -- at all.

Here is the story: This place is magical, capturing the imagination, tripping the senses and tweaking the intellect. Science fiction has had its way with black holes but has clearly overlooked the blue ones. Standing on the precipice in six inches of water, you lean over and peer into the abyss, equal measures of horror and seduction twanging your nerves.

Am I peering into a simple vertical cave of water or is this a portal, a magical transporter into the aquatic world? If I plunge in will I follow the wake of the incredible Mr. Limpet, become a mermaid, a dolphin, a citizen of the deep, or just sink right to the bottom? Can I bear not knowing?

More of my photos of Dean's Blue Hole.

Thoughts on Freediving.

The Women of Freediving

The Men of Freediving 

My article about Freediving in the New York Times.