My dream history lesson includes a tropical Pacific island where I step off a beautiful boat soaked in sunshine the warm Micronesian waters and descend on a coral covered ship that was part of World War II. This dream and these ships came to life for me during a recent trip aboard the MV Odyssey liveaboard. Truk Lagoon, now known as Chuuk, is most certainly one of the world’s greatest wreck diving destinations. These lush green islands with palm trees and calm blue waters make it almost impossible to fathom the immense battle that took place on the 17th and 18th of February, 1944.
X-Ray Mag #53
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Born on the Caribbean island of St. Lucia, self-taught artist Daniel Jean-Baptiste captures on sumptuous silk the brilliant, vivid colors of the vibrant marine life that thrives in the sea around his native homeland.
Guam’s Apra Harbor is home to a unique set of sunken warships. It is the only place in the world where a World War I and a World War II wreck sit touching each other underwater, and they can both be dived on one tank. The calm, warm waters of Guam make for easy diving, and both wrecks can be mostly explored above 100ft. The story of how these ships sank is almost as interesting as the dive itself.
Two buddies are holding the line. The second is holding the arm of the one leading the way, communicating with him by means of touch. With visibility nil, the first buddy protects his head and face with his hand in case of contact with a wall or rock.
Suddenly, for some unknown reason, the line moves and goes out of their hands. They search for it but to no effect. Their mistake: they were not holding the line properly. Will they panic? No. Their nearby instructor stops the exercise. The entire scenerio took place on dry land.
—A rare look behind the making of an iconic image. From conception of the idea to the execution, you will be surprised how little of it was left to chance.
A rusty tram clatters past us. An uninterrupted line of cars slowly moves along Leó Frankel Street. Businessmen in dark suits hurry to their desks. Women in high heels walk carefully on the cobbled pavement. Between the houses, the ferries on the Danube can be seen, drifting past the Isle of Margaret that divides the town. We are in the middle of the Budapest morning rush hour. Our team attracts attention from passersby. We are carrying a van load of diving bottles and boxes through a narrow iron gate. The stone wall next to the cave is soon covered by diving equipment.
For quite a time, I had been wanting to go back to Croatia to see first hand what this young nation with ancient roots had to offer, both below and above the surface.
Back in the 1980s, in the days when Prince and Michael Jackson were the dominant figures in popular music, I went there on a camping trip. It was before my diving days, but the pristine archipelago with its brochure-like, clear, turquoise waters was forever, clearly imprinted in my memory.