One of the notable attractions of Tulum is its system of cenotes, interconnected underwater caverns of naturally eroded limestone. These are popular with scuba divers and snorkelers. Our hotel concierge explained that some of the cenotes are more shallow and open to daylight, while others are deeper with only small entrance holes that let in people and daylight. The Gran Cenote is one of the most popular since it is a bit of a hybrid with a shallow, open portion as well as a deep, enclosed area.

We went to the Gran Cenote first. The entrance is a humble gate on the side of the highway. 100 pesos buys admission to the cenote as well as the shabby amusement park-like area on the approach, which had several chickens (some with baby chicks) running free and some peacocks in cages. Em was hesitant. We spent some time standing on the ledge above where we could look down the stairs to the entrance – a dock that branched off in multiple directions. We watched some begginer scuba divers who were taking a lesson head for the cavern. We saw some swimmers and snorkelers ease down the steps off the dock that descended into the water. We interpreted the universal sign of guidelines that was made entirely of illustrations and icons: a red sad face next to a depiction of a hand drawing a heart into a wall, a green smiley face next to two swimmers using the buddy system, and so on. While Em was still easing into it, I used the worst bathroom I experienced on this trip. After about ten minutes, we walked down the thirty or so stairs to the dock.

Em secured our possessions in my backpack with great care, and we slowly put on our snorkeling gear and dipped into the water. We swam around the dock and then went through a shallow tunnel that led to another opening. It almost seemed artificial like a “tunnel of love” that people have to swim through. I was excited to see some small fish swimming right in front of my mask. Some tended to follow us around. I thought this was because they could tell I was a fish person. Em had the less naieve explanation that they were trying to nibble on our extremities. We circled around the dock in the other opening and made our way back to where we started. I think Em partly enjoyed the adventure, but she was done, so she sat on the dock while I explored some more. I was quite proud of Em for extending herself on this adventure.

I went into the cavern where some divers were exploring the depths with their lamps. The rest of us snorkelers could see from afar a bit of what they were looking at. I lingered there until the divers left and did another trip around the entrance dock and through the “tunnel of love”. On my way back, I spotted a sea turtle swimming along the floor of the shallow entrance. The turtle was right below a swimmer who was treading water, but I don’t think she noticed him. He continued down into a narrow crevice and went out of sight. I remember our friend Shawn saying that the depths of the Cenotes sounded amazing but were actually a bit creepy, and I could see what he meant. As a land animal, I find it slightly unsettling not being able to see the entirety of the terrain beneath me.

With the one trip to the Gran Cenote, Em had gotten her fill. I was seeking more adventures and more opportunities to get to know the local freshwater fish up close and personal, preferably uninhibited by too many awkward dog-paddling tourists.

While Em took a nap, I rented a bicycle and went to Cenote Calavera. This one was right next to the Gran Cenote, but it was quite a contrast. When I was approaching the entrance, a few scuba divers were leaving, and I walked up to the opening of about ten meters in diameter with a rope that dangled from a couple of trees into the water and a wooden ladder down four meters to the surface of the water. I was the only person in sight. If Em were there, she certainly would have stayed above ground. I left my bag on the rock surface and descended down the ladder. Some dragonflies were hovering on the surface. I heard an odd clicking / chirping coming from behind the ladder. I thought it was most likely bats, and the area from which the sounds originated was a veritable bat cave. With the daylight concentrated in the opening, I couldn’t see far enough to spot the walls of the cave, but the bats sounded far enough away. I swam around in the small illuminated circle for a bit and then tried to look into the dark area where I heard the bat sounds. I heard a voice above giving instructions about a regulator and saw a diving instructor peer down from a ledge. I’m not sure if he saw me, but he jumped in and then talked some hesitant students through doing the same. It was surprising, but I was relieved to have another human in the vicinity (I was reminded of the quote from, Alien, “In space, no one can hear you scream“). I slowly made my way to the edges of the surface, giving my pupils enough time to adjust in order to see more as I ventured farther. It was farther than I thought – reaching the edge was a bit like seeing the Phantom of the Opera’s lair but without any candle light. I swam under the bats flying above. Naturally, most of these nocturnal folks were sleeping, but a couple would fly around and then hang under the ceiling. As they went back to their perches, I saw that there were probably about one hundred sleeping bats among them.

The Phantom of the Opera’s Lair

Here’s a random video I found that gives a good perspective of the surface of Cenote Calavera. Listen for the bat-chirps at 1:09!

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UaihqrG_fYg]

A couple of days later, I was itching to explore some more cenotes. Understandably, my recounting of Cenote Calavera did not sell Em on any more cenote adventures. Our hotel concierge recommended Cenotes Cristal and Escondido. They are across the highway from each other, and 50 pesos buys admission to both. I rode a bike out to them while Em read Breakfast at Tiffany’s and took a nap.

Cenote Cristal was all open-air. No caves in this one. There was a wooden high-dive platform and some nice vegetation surrounding the water. It was maybe 9 meters deep at the center.

There was a diverse group at Cristal while I was there – two Mexican couples making out, a pair of professional swimmers with swim caps and skin suits doing laps, a couple of dogs, and some guys in shorts and t-shirts who were admiring the view from atop the high-dive. I saw another turtle in this one, but I couldn’t get as close this time.

I did a couple of leisurely laps and went across to Cenote Escondido. I was told it was a ten-minute walk from the gate off the highway to the cenote. I rode the rental bike down the path, which made it a bit quicker. This cenote earned its name (“escondido” means “hidden”). Escondido was a great cenote finale. It seemed to be the most densely populated with fish out of all the cenotes I explored, but I bet there were plenty of fish that I just couldn’t see at Cenote Calavera. Again, I had a school of fish following me around the perimeter from the minute I entered. Escondido was long and also quiet, about as deep as Cristal, but with some narrow passages in the depths at the edge.

As I surveyed the bottom, I saw clusters of small, silver fish nibbling algae off of the surface of the rocks. Every few seconds, one would quickly contort sideways to take a big bite and send a flash of reflected light up. First just a group of dull slivers, then flash, flash, flash. The whole effect was like the reverse of twinkling stars in the sky. There was a narrow passage around a tiny island. I wasn’t sure if I could swim all the way through it, but I did, moving branches out of the way of my snorkel and then emerging through crossed straw-like roots that the trees stuck into the water. I sat on the slippery algae-covered steps at the entrance to adjust my mask, and then I was startled by a pinch on my left nipple, then another one, which ensured me that I wasn’t just imagining it. At this point I realized Em’s explanation of why the fish followed us around was probably more accurate. I climbed out just to make sure I didn’t get mistaken for food again, and then I did another lap around. While I was moving (even very slowly), the fish wouldn’t bother me, and we coexisted quite nicely.

Note the fish in the left – reflecting light as it is turned sideways to eat algae.