The sting of salt spray jolted me from my state of semi consciousness. With the drone of the twin four-stroke outboards, the warm equatorial sunshine, and the lack of a good night's sleep in three days, it was no wonder that I was nodding off. However, doing so perched on the transom seat of a speeding dive boat in the middle of the Pacific ocean may not be the wisest thing to do! I was in Yap - more accurately, off the coast of Yap, one of the four major island groups that make up the Federated States of Micronesia.

Nearly twenty-four hours earlier my travel companion Red Godin and I  were making our way through the Bush International Airport in Houston, Texas. We first met the rest of our travel group there. They were an eclectic variety of people hailing from all reaches of the continental United States as well as Hawaii. Our only known commonalities, other than final destination, was our addiction to scuba diving and the grey t-shirts adorned with tropical fish that we each wore to identify ourselves to other group members. We were on a Fam (familiarization) Trip. Each of the members of our party either owned or was associated with a dive shop and was offered this trip by a travel agency to get acquainted with a particular destination. The idea was that we would become familiar with different locations and then sell trips to dive store patrons. I was along for the diving as my only association with a dive store -besides a formerly, limited part time job in one - is that I have friends that own them, and like all divers I spend money in them. In this case, Red Godin, owner of Giant Stride Dive Shop asked me to accompany him and I was fortunate enough to have a great wife and understanding boss that let me get away for nearly three weeks.
 

Stopping in Hawaii, Guam, and Palau, we eventually arrived in Yap around 3am. Crossing so many time zones and the International Date Line, I can't say exactly which day it was. From the airport the resort staff made short work of loading all of our gear aboard a large truck and had us comfortably seated in an air-conditioned bus for the 10 minute ride to the resort. I would like to tell you how impressed I was with the accommodations when I first saw the hotel, but I can't - it was dark and I was exhausted. All that I remember is thinking how bright and airy the lobby appeared and how cool and clean the room was. It would take until the following day for me to be impressed, and I was! We were housed at Bill Acker's award winning Manta Ray Bay Hotel & Yap Divers. A place designed for divers by divers. Bill himself is known as the father of diving in Yap having personally discovered and named the majority of dive sites. I could go on and on about all of the amenities that the resort featured - lighted rinse tanks, dedicated camera tables and charging stations -  but it would be easier if one simply checks out the website. However, what the website can't describe is how genuinely friendly everyone is. By the second day, the wait-staff and many in the resort knew our names. They were so friendly and got to know us, and we them, that I feel like I now have friends in Yap.
 

As much as I liked the hotel and dive op, I thought that the restaurant, where we had all of our meals, and upper deck bar were the coolest part of the place. It's a sailing ship! With great food and a gentle breeze in the afternoon, it's the perfect spot to have a beer - the resort has it's own brewery - or sip a cocktail and have a snack. It's hard to imagine that there could be any place better to hang out in the Pacific . Did I mention that the resort has its own brewery?

We first met Bill Acker there at breakfast. Still a bit groggy from our marathon half circumnavigation of the globe, Red and I, as well as a few others in our party, shuffled onto Mnuw (the name of the ship meaning Seahawk) for breakfast around 7am. We were just finishing a delicious meal featuring fish, rice, eggs, and fruit when Bill came in. An imposing transplanted Texan with a deep tan accentuating his full head of shocking white hair and crisp white mustache. His attire of board shorts and t-shirt belied his position of resort owner and MBA holding business mogul. He seemed a bit surprised to see us up so early, knowing the time that we arrived. After sitting with us for a few minutes and chatting he asked if we wanted to go diving. We were not scheduled to dive until later that afternoon so his offer came as a very pleasant surprise. With his invitation we all scrambled to grab our gear and headed for the boat. He rounded up a Captain and DM, rustled up his gear and joined us. In no time we were pulling away from the dock. Once underway I settled onto the seat furthest aft as it's the most comfortable on a small boat. I remember thinking how blue the sky and sea were and wondering what kind of dive that we would be doing. I started to relax and enjoy the warm breeze and lulling effect afforded by the hum of the outboards as I closed my eyes for only a moment.
 

A small wave sent a shot of ocean spay across my face snapping me back to reality. Now, here I am, nine degrees north of the equator in the western Pacific ocean, and about as far from home as I can get without leaving the planet. I will be here for seven days before departing for Chuuk and getting to dive the world famous Truk Lagoon with its legendary Japanese World War II ship wrecks. As a wreck diver, that is what I truly came to the far side of the world for. For the next week I will simply have to be content with seeing some pretty fish and possibly Manta Rays.

The change in the sound of the engines signaled that we were approaching our dive site. As I scanned the waters ahead of the boat I saw the weathered mooring ball that Tim, our dive guide, was pointing out to Captain Henry. Once tied to the ball, Tim briefed our group about how this dive, as well as the majority of dives throughout the week, would be conducted.

Typically, we would simply roll in and swim along with the slight gentle current that usually ran along the reefs and walls surrounding this pacific paradise. We were free to venture off on our own or casually follow Tim. At the end of our dive, which was up to us to decide, we would merely surface and the boat would be there to pick us up. On the very rare occasion that a diver surfaced away from the boat, the use of a safety sausage quickly got the Captain's attention and in short order the boat was at the diver's side. Unencumbered by my usual bulky dry suit, steel doubles and lead belt, the aluminum 80 and 2mil skin used on these dives felt like a day swimming at the pool. This was a welcome change from our typical New England diving.
 

With names like Lion Fish Wall, Magic Kingdom, and Yap Caverns the diving was spectacular. Hey, with over 100 feet of visibility, 80+ degree water and loads of tropical fish, how can it not be? Everything looks pretty in gin clear water! Most of the dives seemed similar to me. Yes, they varied a bit with regard to the sub-surface terrain. Some were more wall dives than reef dives, and yes, Yap Caverns did indeed have caverns, but at first blush they didn't appear much different than dives that I did in the Caribbean.

However, after a couple of days I came to realized that in fact the diving in the Pacific was different than the Caribbean. For one thing, we saw many more sharks than in the Caribbean. Nothing frightening, just Black and White-Tip Reef Sharks. They were about three feet long or so, and could be found slowly cruising along the reef. They would quickly turn to avoid divers long before our paths would cross. Also, there was a greater variety of fishes, and the colors were more intense than anything that I ever saw while diving elsewhere. Of course there was the ubiquitous Anemone Fishes (a.k.a. Clown Fish) of Nemo fame around almost every corner, as well as Striped Lion Fish and Mandarin Fish, . . . but alas there were no wrecks. 

When I jokingly lamented about the absence of ship wrecks, one of the veteran Yap divers in our group said "yah, no wrecks, but there are Mantas". We did not do a "Manta" dive yet so I quipped something to the effect of "it's just a big fish". With that he replied - "obviously, you haven't seen Mantas yet!"
 

This day would hopefully change that fact, we were heading to Mill Channel and the Manta cleaning stations. To get there we would be cutting across the island. Yes; across the island, using a narrow channel which was dug through the mangrove swamps by the German Army, by hand, during the World War I era. Access through this channel could only be done during the top half of the tide with the motors trimmed up. There were occasional times in the past when boat operators had miscalculated the time of high water and the divers had to abandon ship and push the boat through the muddy channel. Fortunately for us that did not occur during any of our several runs through the swamp! It was a very interesting ride, affording us the opportunity see and experience an ecosystem seldom seen by dive travelers.
 

Like Humphrey Bogart and Katharine Hepburn aboard the African Queen, we eased our way through the channel making our way across the island. Emerging from the jungle, we were rewarded with serene blue skies and a glass smooth sea state. Without hesitation, Henry woke the engines from their idling slumber and launched us on our way like a stallion bolting for an open gate. Seemingly, in moments we were tied to the  mooring and donning our gear.

The plan for this dive would be a bit different than the other open water sites. We were in a channel. It was about 60 feet deep and varied in width from hundreds of feet to about 25. The channel was bordered by coral reefs which came to within three feet of the surface on each side. The drill was to follow our guide Tim to a cleaning station which was situated 50 feet or so behind the boat towards the open ocean. There, we would settle on the bottom and wait. The idea was to be waiting when the Mantas came into the cleaning station from the ocean. By keeping still and not spooking the creatures we would observe them while they were being cleaned of parasites. If we grew tired of waiting we could simply move off and explore other areas on the channel walls. We merely had to stay away from the cleaning stations so as not to scare off any Mantas. After our dive, we could find the boat  a hundred yards or so down the channel towards the ocean.

One by one we rolled off and made our way to the bottom. Upon Tim's arrival he motioned for us to follow him. Using hand gestures, he positioned each of us around a dump-truck sized coral formation. Like bubble blowing disciples we knelt on the white sand bottom waiting for some kind of holy leader to arrive. It didn't take long for me and some others to get a bit bored with just waiting! One by one about half the group began dispersing to set out and explore the side walls and coral formations. About 20 minutes passed and I was slowly making my way down the channel when I could hear a bell. At first I thought that my ears were ringing, but there was no mistaking it; someone was ringing a bell. Then  I realized that is must be Tim, our DM, he was signaling to the divers. There must be Mantas about!
 

Heading back towards the cleaning station was not an option as I didn't want to scare off any Mantas that may have arrived there. I decided to just settle down on the bottom and wait. As soon as I found a barren white patch of sand and was comfortable relaxing on the bottom I had the strange sense that there was something above me. As you may know with scuba diving, one does not usually spend time looking up, it's sort of an un-natural and uncomfortable position to turn ones neck in. I dipped my right shoulder and looked over my left and was shocked to see a form the size of my office ceiling! Not showing any visible means of propulsion, this massive diamond shaped form was slowly gliding mere feet over my head in the direction from which I came. At that moment I could understand how native divers once feared that these creatures would trap and smother them on the bottom. I guess it was sort of a religious experience as my first thought was; HOLY SH*T!
 

The next day we conducted the same exercise. I waited a bit longer this time, but I must have scuba diver's A.D.D. because before long I was off exploring on my own again. After about 40 minutes and not seeing a Manta, nor hearing any bells, I started to make my way to where I knew the boat would be waiting. As per my habit, I was hanging on the line for a safety stop at 20 feet. The warm embrace of the tropical water combined with the rhythmic cadence of my respiration and exhaust bubbles had me nearly drifting off to sleep . With a glance at my computer I decided to ascended to ten feet. When I turned to my right I was startled by a winged creature heading directly at me! With barely any noticeable movement of its "wings" this gentle leviathan turned vertical to avoid the mooring line in my grasp and passed barely an arm's length from me.

Yes; Mantas are not shipwrecks, but they are far and away the most impressive creatures that I have been lucky to see under water. It was worth the trip just for these two dives!
 

The only "bad" day that we had on Yap was the last day of diving; because it was the last day of diving. We would be taking the day off from diving prior to our departure for Chuuk. However, as a bright spot to our last day, Tim and Vic, two of our boat mates, purchased and arranged to have a keg of beer brought aboard as a treat for the crew and divers, courtesy of Sea Lancers Diving Club.

We were leaving for Guam and on to Chuuk at midnight. That day we toured the island stopping at a Stone Money Bank, a village Men's House, Japanese World War II remnants, and learning about the culture and beauty of this isolated gem of an island.

As one tour book stated, "Yap is a land out of the pages of National Geographic Magazine". A land where carved stone is still used as Stone Money for a dowry, or to purchase land. Men's Houses continue to be the meeting place for men and village elders to gather and decide village business, as well as tell stories and pass on traditions and educate young boys in the ways of sailing and fishing. Villages ruled by Chiefs remain interconnected by stone pathways woven through the mangrove swamps and jungle that were trod since before Christ was born. The beauty of the land, the honorable and interesting culture, and the genuinely gentle and peaceful people cannot possibly be accurately expressed with writings or photographs. Yap is a place that has to be experienced and felt.
 

At first, I thought that Yap was merely a place to visit and see a few pretty fish in clear warm water. Just a place to stop on the way to reaching my final destination at Truk Lagoon. I was wrong! With turtles and sharks on almost every dive, a virtual guarantee that Mantas will be encountered, colors unseen in other parts of the world, and the possibility of running into anything from Tunas to Marlin - as some in our group did, Yap certainly should be on every diver's list of places to dive.

In addition to the unique and wondrous diving, Yap's beauty and island charm, coupled with her lovely people, their culture and warmth make the island a "must do" destination to be experienced at least once in an adventurous scuba diver's lifetime. Yap truly is a place that stands on its own as a destination one must visit. The only danger to warn about is that you will long to return.  . . . as I do.

Ok, time for a quick geography lesson. Our next destination was Truk Lagoon, located in the State of Chuuk, which like Yap, is one of the four island groups that make up the Federated States of Micronesia (FSM). Along with the states of Yap and Chuuk there are also the states of Pohnpei and Kosrae. Notice that I said island groups, for each state is comprised of dozens of small islands.

On February 17th, 1944 the U.S. Navy, with the largest armada ever assembled in the history of naval battles, launched "Operation Hailstone". For two days, carrier based aircraft of Task Force 58 pummeled the Japanese forces entrenched among the heavily fortified islands of Truk Lagoon. Over 400 tons of bombs and torpedoes rained down within the fringing reefs of this island group. In the end; more than 200 Japanese aircraft were destroyed, over 50 ships lay on the lagoon's sea floor, and by some counts more than a 1000 Japanese sailors, pilots, and soldiers were killed in action. U.S. losses were listed at less than two dozen aircraft, and damage to the carrier Intrepid. Loss of life was under 50 individuals. For over two years leaking oil from the sunken ships fouled the beaches. Today, the beaches are pristine, but the evidence of Chuuk's war time history are bountiful and easily found.

From visit-fsm.org: "Chuuk, with its vast, shallow, beautiful lagoon is a Mecca for wreck divers. A major shipwreck site from WWII, Truk Lagoon is unquestionably the world's best shipwreck diving destination. Here, more than 50 hulks have been transformed into "shipreefs", holding the very best of the undersea world and maritime history at one site. Hard and soft corals in a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes attract divers worldwide for both daytime and night diving. The vast selection of artifacts still found on the wrecks after five decades are testament to the unique history of the Micronesian Islands. The historical aspect of Truk Lagoon is not totally hidden by the jungles. Japanese lighthouses, perched high atop the lagoon's finest overlooks, can be reached by hiking or driving. Old runways, command centers, gun emplacements, cave networks, hospitals and libraries can be found with the help of a knowledgeable guide."

So, one can understand the attraction of Truk Lagoon to a wreck diving nut and WW II history buff like yours truly!

"Like a kid in a candy store". An often used expression, but so appropriate for the way I was feeling upon my arrival in Chuuk. I was in Truk Lagoon! Surrounded by World War II historical relics with huge, nearly intact ship-wrecks littering the sandy sea floor just a short boat ride away. I needed to get wet fast! Nearly 30 hours since waking in Yap the day before and I was not thinking about sleep! And neither was Red, or some of the other hard-core divers in our group. Our first day in Chuuk was  supposed to be a "rest" day but Mike Musto, our group leader, made arrangements for us to dive if we desired. Of course a bunch of us took him up on his offer. I didn't come to Truk to sleep.

We arrived on the island of Moen, the capital of Chuuk, during daylight so we got a good look at the local populace. Rustic is how I would best describe it. Yes, it is a bit 3rd worldish, but not in a destitute and poverty stricken way. It had more of a middle-east sort of look - but without the suicide bombers and gun toting rebels! There is virtually no violent crime, just a bit of dust kicked up by the vehicles on the main road. Once we turned onto the road that led into the Blue Lagoon Dive Resort & Hotel it was as if we entered a tropical paradise. I know it sounds cliché, but the cliché aptly applies. This former coconut plantation is now the location of the Chuuk's premier hotel and most experienced dive operation. With its manicured grounds and lush tropical vegetation, it could be a scene from someone's favorite south seas movie.

We checked in, stowed our luggage . . . a quick look at the room . . .OK, very nice, AC on,  nice and cool, neat and clean, let's go . . .  we grabbed our gear and headed for the Blue Lagoon Dive Shop. There we met Owner and General Manager Gradvin Aisek. Gradvin's father is considered the pioneer of wreck diving in Truk Lagoon having discovered and explored the majority of the wrecks dived today. Once signed in, we loaded the boat and set out for the Fujikawa Maru. During the ride out I could not keep from wondering how such an exquisitely beautiful place must have been so hellish on those days in February nearly 64 years ago. I know that having never personally experienced war, I could only imagine the horror and destruction. Now we were about to explore the by-products of humankind's foibles.

As Chenisio, our Dive Master, stood perched on the boat's bow aligning land ranges, Our boat driver, Chaunky, deftly maneuvered the vessel according to his hand signals. Without the use of a bottom sounder nor chart plotter they found and hooked the wreck amidships, as desired, on the first try. Most wrecks in the lagoon are not buoyed as they would make an easy target for local "dynamite" fishermen. After a quick dive briefing in which Cheni describe how the dive would be conducted, we made ready to get wet. We could either follow him on a guided tour or strike out on our own. I chose the latter.

Gas on, everything in place, no one behind me, in I went. Ahhhh . . . For me, the brief few seconds when I first plunge into the water are the best. Like a full body sigh of relief I am taken to another place and set free. The gear becomes weightless and the cool saline solution absorbs me into its three dimensional world. All the work, planning, travel and expense becomes insignificant at that instant. In this case it was extraordinary; I was finally among the wrecks of Truk Lagoon.

As the froth from my entry dissipated I rolled to my right to see a large dark object below me, I would come to realized it was the stack of the ship. With 60+ feet of visibility I could easily see the deck 40 feet below me. At over 400 feet long, I would have to do some serious swimming to explore the entire wreck in one dive. Knowing that we would be returning to this site in the coming days, I decide to spend this dive on the forward half of the ship. I stopped along the bridge deck to make a mental note of where we were tied in. Dropping down to the main deck I passed over open cargo holds containing airplanes and assorted parts. I continued forward along the port side just an arms length from the rail. Peering over the edge, Sea Cucumbers littering the sandy sea floor, and shoals of hand size fish could be seen over 60 feet down! At the bow I lingered to read a memorial plaque that was placed just below the gun mount. Up and over the gun I went to the tip of the bow. Turning as I went over the bow, I descended in a vertical position allowing myself to sink away and back from the massive hulk while facing it. As I drifted towards the bottom I became an insignificant speck in the shadow of the gargantuan prow towering over me. Wicked cool!

I was at about 90 feet or so, hovering above the anchor chain with its bread-box size links covered in a rainbow of corals and sponge when I checked my gas. Wearing only an 80 of 32% and not the usual doubles on a wreck dive, I was vigilant about monitoring my gas supply. It was time to turn and start heading back to the hook. Making my way up and along the side of the hull I could have mistakenly thought that I was back in Yap doing a wall dive. There were hard and soft corals as well as anemones and schools of fishes everywhere. On the shallower sections, around the masts and booms, one could easily spend a dive without traveling more than 40 feet and still not see all the different fish and critters. There certainly is much more here than just wreckage. Making my way to the bridge deck, I bumped into the rest of the gang. They were returning from a guided trip inside this living reef. Around the stack we hovered at various depths making our stops and enjoying the marine life around us. Too quickly, this dive was over as one by one we clambered back aboard the boat, the crew speedily stripping us of our gear once aboard. At last . . . I did a wreck dive in Truk, now I can have something to eat and get some much needed sleep.
 

Without an alarm, 6am the next morning found Red and I up and about readying cameras while anxiously awaiting breakfast which started at 7. Our gear was taken care of by the boat crew so all we had to do was show up around 8:30. This was going to be a three dive day and we could hardly wait to get going. After a hearty breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and a variety of assorted fare, our entire group made its way to the boats. We would be diving the Fujikawa Maru again (the majority of the group did not dive it the day before), do a surface interval while snorkeling around a Japanese Zero, hit the Sankisan Maru, then grab some lunch and head back out to the Yamagiri Maru.
 

Back at the Fujikawa, I joined the gang this time as we explored the stern of the ship. Dropping over the fan tail I slowly sank while angling my way under the counter stern to the rudder post. Sinking straight down from that point, I came along side the barn-door sized rudder. The only thing keeping me from swimming between it and the enormous four-bladed screw was my desire not to disturb the myriad of hydroid tendrils and rope corals reaching out from each one. We proceeded up and over the port quarter rail and down into the holds of the ship. From there Cheni took us down into the engineering spaces where we saw the massive blast hole which put the vessel in its final resting place.
 

The balance of our dives on most of the wrecks were similar in nature, however,  each one had a variety of different artifacts to check out and the coral encrustation as well as marine life was amazing. An interesting variation was diving some of the wrecks lying on their side. Note in the photo on the right of the Heian Maru, like the Yamagiri and Kiyuzumi Maru, it is lying on its port side. Notice how small the diver on the left is compared to the bow of the Heian Maru. That will give you some sense of the enormity of the wrecks. Penetrating these wrecks was a bit more of a challenge due to the orientation of the decks vs. bulkheads. One of my favorite parts of the dive on these "leaning" wrecks was exploring within the space created between the curvature of the hull up to the bow and the sea floor below. Working my way under this section of hull was essentially a cavern dive. The ceiling of this man made cavern is completely covered with arm waving hydroids and rope corals. Like a cave dive, but with loads of ambient light and easy exits in several directions.
 

As fascinating as all the wrecks were, there was one that "made" the trip for me. It lies a bit deeper than the balance of the others in the lagoon and is not a "recreational" dive. It is important to note that one could spend years diving in Truk Lagoon, not exceed recreational depths, and still not see everything there! However, there are also some sites that are a little past those limits that can be accessed with the proper experience and gear. After doing a few dives with Cheni, which allowed him to assess our skill level, the guys and I on our boat asked him if we could dive the San Francisco Maru. I was very fortunate to be among a group of like-minded wreck diving "nuts", each one of them very experienced, safe, and more than capable (some were tech instructors) to do this dive. And our DM knew it.
 

For this dive the shop provided aluminum 100s filled with air, and not the 32% that is typically filled. We also rented 40s filled with 50%. Each of us had a spare reg for the stage and most had multi-gas computers. Those of us without a proper computer merely dived air tables and the added stop time breathing 50% provided a good safety margin. We planned a conservative run time and Cheni carried a spare 80 with a primary and octo.
 

At nearly 400 feet long, the San Francisco Maru lies in just over 200 feet of water. The deck is reached at 165fsw. This site is buoyed. However, the float is tied 20 feet below the surface. Again, so that local fisherman do not easily fish the wreck. Only with generations of experience can individuals like Chenisio get over it using only land ranges. Once over the wreck, Cheni spotted the submerged float and dived in to secure the boat. We donned our gear, rolled in, did a bubble check and started down. At about 20 feet deep, and as soon as my eyes adjusted to the change in light, I was amazed to see the top of the forward mast reaching up, seemingly greeting us, from the cobalt blue depths. This was going to be an amazing dive! Our goal was to check out the Type 95 Ha Go tanks that are on the main deck just forward of the bridge. There are two on the starboard side and one on the port side. The entire wreck came into full view at about 70 feet . . . it was still nearly 100 feet below me!
 

I settled above the deck, just aft of the forward deck gun with my partner Red hovering over my right shoulder. The conditions were amazing; an intact wreck, 200 feet deep and I didn't need a light at all! One probably has to be an east-coast wrecker to really appreciate the conditions that we were in. After a quick equipment check we set out for the tanks. Our mission was to get a photo of the group of us around one of the them. Coming upon them after passing the forward mast, we quickly assembled around one of the two tanks on the starboard side while Shane Newmyer snapped a photo. With only a 15 minute planned BT there was not a lot of time for posing! This dive allowed us to only get as far aft as the bridge deck. We also explored the forward hold still containing its explosive cargo of mines and torpedoes. On a subsequent dive we angled our way towards the stern of the ship while descending and alighted upon her deck about amidships. The area was heavily damaged by a 500lb bomb hit from the USS Essex carrier based TBF Avenger which sent the ship to the bottom. We checked out the aft holds replete with their deadly cargo of depth charges and torpedoes. I made a quick foray to the white sand sea floor to investigate the remnants of a truck that rolled off the deck during the battle. Lying in the sand at 200fsw, the truck looked like something one would find in an old barn which could be taken and refurbished. There was still rubber on the tires! This dive, like the first, also ended too soon. Oh, what I would have given for my 120s!
 

With our dives in Chuuk done, we spent the last day on Moen relaxing and getting our gear packed for the trip home. I didn't get to spend any time in town so I can't comment about life on the island and attractions, but I don't think anyone goes to Truk for the shopping. I wanted to use my camera and get some shots around the resort and simply hang out. I took the time to reflect on what those days during World War II may have been like in these islands. While the the effects and devastation of war are readily seen among the ships that we explored, conversely; no place better than on those same ships does the axiom "from death comes life" appear more evident. Completely covered in an innumerable variety of marine organisms, the ships continue to live in spite of mankind's attempt to destroy them.
 
Chuuk, like Yap is another destination that should be on every diver's list of places to visit - particularly Wreck Divers. Besides the phenomenal diving and the beauty of the island; the people in that part of the world, with their warm, hospitable, and friendly manner, make it a place that anyone who visits will surely want to return.
 

In closing let me say that I think there are two main ingredients to making a great trip. First, there is the destination, and secondly; the people that you go there with. The destination was terrific, as stated above. As for the people; they were the best! To start with, I had a really cool travel companion, Red Godin, who was a lot of fun and always interesting. Also, I was lucky and honored to be with a terrific bunch of fellow divers in our travel group. Each and every one of them was a very capable and experienced diver as well as being just dog-gone nice people! Thanks to Mike Musto of Trip-N-Tour for putting together a well planned and executed trip. With that said, I especially enjoyed diving with the gang on our boat in Truk Lagoon. Doug, Shane, Kevin, and of course Red, thanks for a great time, and hopefully we will get to dive together again soon.

Dive Safe,
Dennis

 All under water photographs from Yap are courtesy of Bill Acker, Manta Ray Bay Hotel & Yap Divers. Under water photographs from Truk Lagoon are courtesy of James Lee of Deepscape Photography, and Shane Newmyer. Thank You. Surface photographs are by the author.

© 2007 to Present, Secret Squirrel Divers Inc. All Rights Reserved