Let’s just start off by saying this was one of the most exhilarating and crazy days of my life. One thinks they know what such a creature looks like because they’ve seen pictures and videos online, but the reality is: you’re not prepared for what it feels like—to know just how insignificant you are, to be faced with something that could swallow you whole simply by accident, not even out of hunger.
My day began at 5:30 a.m. when I woke up and got everything ready for the 6:30 a.m. ferry that would take me to Playa del Carmen from Cozumel Island. Maybe it was because I was excited about the trip, but I struggled to fall asleep the night before, only managing to do so at 3:40 a.m., so I took on the crazy, hectic schedule with only two hours of sleep under my belt. No problem—I’ve been there before and have managed just fine. Wrong. Advice #1: Sleep your eight hours. If you’re thinking you can go to Cocobongo the night before and wake up all peachy, you’ll face my fate.
Once I arrived at Playa del Carmen, I headed straight to the Seven Eleven next to the ferry pier and bought my breakfast: a salmon onigiri and a Sprite (this step was completely unnecessary, a pure act of gluttony). Just as I was taking my first bite out of the banquet acquired, my guide arrived and so the walk to the van began. It was a short walk, but it made taking chunks out of my onigiri kind of hard.
The drive—that’s the most boring part. We drove around one and a half hours, made one stop to pick up two other fellow passengers, and finally arrived at Punta Sam. Thankfully, at this point, I still hadn’t been lulled to sleep by the moving vehicle because I am known to go comatose on the road.
At Punta Sam, which is the departure port at Cancún, they offered us a breakfast consisting of a banana (which you aren’t supposed to take onboard with you for very valid—and also very superstitious—reasons), a yogurt, a small bread, a pack of cookies, and a coffee. And considering the fact that I had just finished breakfast not even two hours before, you would think I would have refused mine—but I wanted this article to closely resemble what the experience is like, so you could say I sacrificed myself for you. You’re welcome.
While you’re eating, they brief you on what to expect, show you where the restrooms are, and offer wetsuits for $18 USD (if you want to swim without a life jacket, you’ll need one). I paid for the wetsuit, which will come back up again later in the story.
Advice #2: Don’t wear sunscreen. You’re about to swim with huge sea creatures that will very much appreciate it if you avoid harming them with the chemicals in that bottle. Not wanting to get sunburn is valid, but just wear protective clothes and help save endangered species.
It was finally time to embark. My boat had thirteen people: eleven passengers, plus Leo, our guide, and Ernesto, our captain. Once we were all settled down and had fastened our life jackets, the ride began. It was one hour and a half of puke-inducing waves. I say this as a double-entry islander (born in Cuba, raised in Cozumel): never in my life had I gotten nauseous on a boat, never in my life had I regretted not taking a Dramamine, never in my life had I—
We’ll get there.
If you think nausea is the only thing awaiting you, then you’re in for a doozy, because yes, of course you are meant to be wet when swimming at sea—that’s the whole point—but no one prepared me for the splash zone!! My eyes are now capable of seeing underwater without protection after such exposure to sea water.
Here’s where advice #3 and #4 come into the mix: Take a Dramamine, and maybe, don’t bring children under the age of 12. It’s a long way from the Marina to the whale sharks, kids tend to get bored rather easily and if your kid feels seasick, it will be very hard for them to turn the experience around. Also, I’m sure you’ll feel sad if they’re not enjoying themselves.
Onto the best part. After we passed Isla Mujeres, that’s when we knew we were getting close. You first start seeing other boats, sprinkled across the sea—not necessarily together, but you get an idea that they’re all seeing the same thing—and then it is your turn. First a fin, then you notice the large shadow underwater and that’s when you know you’ve made it; that’s when you know you’re about to come face to face with a whale shark.
All the drowsiness from the trip leaves your body rapidly—there’s only excitement. They start sectioning you off in pairs (which, kudos to the authorities for that one), and one by one, the couples start diving in. I was the third couple to go in, and here’s where my worries as a working woman (not an ocean enthusiast—my excitement was very much still present) came in.
The moment my head was fully submerged—BOOM—huge creature swimming in front of me. It must’ve been around 10–11 meters long, and right as I pointed my camera at her to collect footage for the job I’m very much still supposed to be doing, the new camera decides that it just doesn’t feel like complying.
Here’s where the stressful part of my day starts off.
We continue swimming, making sure to stay at least three feet away from the whale, giving her space to eat without disturbing her. While I’m swimming and taking my camera out of the case to see what’s happening, another whale shark appears. We follow her, and then something happens, and I end up right in front of her—with the most amazing view of her open mouth coming towards me, completely unaware of the awestruck human floating in front, trying to take the most breathtaking shot of her tiny existence—failing to do so—and rushing to get out of the way. When I started swimming on her left side, I just couldn’t believe it. First, just how huge she was (definitely 12 meters long), and second, how I would have fired me on the spot. Thank God for nepotism.
Advice #5: Enjoy your time underwater. Things could happen. You might want to record something to show off back home and your camera might give up on you, but this is the experience of a lifetime, treat it as such. Whale sharks are such gentle giants, being in their presence fills you up with an incredible and indescribable feeling, bask on it. You may get to dive twice like my group did, but you also may not. Enjoy it.
We saw our third whale shark for a second while swimming towards the boat—beautiful, magnificent—and I can prove it because I finally managed to take a picture. Then we get on board, climb the ladder, set our things down, and suddenly it hits me: the nausea. I rush to the side of the boat and start spitting, not yet puking but—you know what comes right before. Then I start gagging, but nothing comes out. A passenger asks me how I feel, and I respond in my best failed attempt at not sounding like a complete meanie: “Like…” bleeeeeeep.
Next couple jumps off, then the next, and when I realize, it’s my turn again. I’m much more prepared this time—lowered my camera settings—and boy, it paid off. This time we saw two more whale sharks: the one from the article’s photo, and a second one I saw briefly. Craziest 7–10 minutes of my life.
I can’t explain it yet—how I felt. I think this is the kind of thing only those who experience it can comprehend; you just feel so minuscule, in a comforting way. Seeing a whale shark eat—opening its mouth, then closing it again, and then the process repeats itself. There’s also this gratefulness for being in their habitat instead of inside some walls where they find themselves trapped, this place that is substantial for them, their feeding ground. It’s the kind of thing you wish those you love would try.
We get back onboard and here’s when puke fest occurs—this time some seaweed and apple chunks from my breakfast made their way to the side of the boat.
After everyone takes their second dive, you sit back on your seats and try to relax while the ride towards Playa Norte begins. This time I sat down at the back of the boat. I didn’t get nauseous at all— even managed to fall asleep for a couple minutes—only to hit my head with the metal tube to my right. No problem. I close my eyes again. Waterboarded with sea water. Still, I closed my eyes again—as many times as it took—I kept my eyes closed the whole ride until I heard gasps and people talking, and I open them quickly only to see a small pair of fins and a tail: dolphins.
I couldn’t pull my camera quickly enough to get a shot of them, but they appeared to be rather young ones. A couple minutes after seeing the dolphins, we are greeted by a sea turtle. We didn’t get to see them this time, but our guide told me sometimes they see huge manta rays.
We finally make it to Playa Norte at Isla Mujeres, and the crystal-clear waters reminded me so much of El Cielo that when I turned away from the beach, it felt like being back at home. I was called back on board by our guide and served the most delicious meal I’ve ever been served at sea on a tour. It consisted of fish ceviche, mango ceviche, guacamole, chips, and a sandwich triangle. When I tell you I gobbled that down—even after puking, which I normally wouldn’t do because vomiting makes me feel weird and skeptical of eating for the rest of the day—but this was a delicacy. And now that I think about it… a good option for vegetarians?
We finished eating, the captain started riding again, and I was shocked to see there was another stop—a chance for people to snorkel and see colorful fishes instead of huge beasts. We stopped near a boat wreckage, where schools of fish pass the time. I didn’t jump in this time, remembering what happened the last two times I got back on board and choosing to maintain my last meal inside for as long as I could.
They must’ve taken around fifteen minutes, because as soon as I opened my eyes, we were nearing a port I recognized from earlier. And just like that, at 3:30 p.m. (after leaving at 9:30 a.m.), we were back at the shore, ready to rinse the salty water off our skin and take off the rented wetsuits… and now I’m two-toned. I don’t know how it never crossed my mind that maybe, just maybe, I should’ve taken off the wetsuit—but I wore it for six straight hours, so really, this was on me.
While waiting for our driver to take us back to Playa del Carmen, a couple of students doing their master’s came over asking us to fill some forms regarding our experience and asking for our input. I write about this because they were students from the Cinvestav Unit in Mérida, Yucatán, and I’m used to seeing their labs, since I’m studying in Mérida. Also, I think it’s cool interacting with marine biologists when you do a tour consisting of swimming with marine life.
Our driver arrived, I clicked on my seatbelt, and the rest was history. When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see Playa del Carmen. We said our goodbyes and I went straight to Krispy Kreme for some donuts, to later hop on yet another boat— but this time, the one bringing me home.
And that’s how such an exhilarating and slightly stressful day came to an end: with me eating a donut and watching the sunset inside a boat I trust with my life will never make me puke my food.
Here’s a compilation of clips from this experience, most were shot by the incredible Leo, who will most likely be your guide if you book with us [Click Here].The two crappy ones were shot by me.
By Bee Díaz
