Diving Panama’s Prison Paradise: Introducing Isla de Coiba

And then we hopped on the boat for the hour-long journey to Coiba. That boat ride was the very reason we decided to go for a multi-day trip rather than return to Santa Catalina each night — that, and sleeping on an uninhabited tropical island didn’t sound awful. I felt my stomach tighten on the way out though — did we have everything we needed? Would my wetsuit be warm enough? Did I remember my camera charger? Had we packed enough snacks? These are pressing concerns when you’re headed off the grid for four days.

The trip would include three dives per day for a total of twelve dives. At our first dive site, Wahoo, I braced myself for what might be ahead. We were there in peak season for divers, when whale shark spottings are most common, and this dive site in particular is known for them. But while Pacific currents’ nutrient-rich waters attract migrating pelagics, they also bring chilly thermoclines and reduced visibility.

The rumors were true: the visibilty wasn’t great and the water was very cold. And whale sharks eluded us. But we did spot some strange rays, several morays, and about a billion white-tip reef sharks. We also found two different frogfish — this rare species is abundant around Coiba and yet I never stopped marveling at them. Despite the lack of pelagics, we surfaced smiling.

If we were feeling a bit euphoric after that dive, we almost spun of the planet with happiness when we saw where we’d be spending our surface interval. It was only the most stunning beach in the history of the world, one of hundreds of abandoned stretches of sand around Coiba. I was actually kind of sad when it was time to head off to our second dive site.

If I had known what was ahead, I wouldn’t have been so reluctant to leave the beach. Our second dive site, Don Juan, turned out to be one of my top three of the trip. The visibility was amazing, and I doubled up on wetsuits which made the 75-80°F temperatures much more pleasant.

But even good visibility is fairly worthless if there’s nothing to see. There I was, innocently photographing a seahorse and thinking it was a pretty pleasant dive, when I turned around and swam straight into one of the largest schools of fish I’ve encountered anywhere on the planet. I absolutely lost myself in the moment, watching mesmerized as this heaving group of thousands of jacks moved as one entity. It was a magical dive.

Post-dive, still giddy with excitement at all we had already seen, we made our way to our new home for the next four days. Coiba National Park has a small ranger station set up on Isla de Coiba — it’s the only human settlement within the park limits. Fascinatingly, at least one of the park rangers is an ex-inmate who didn’t want to leave when the colony was dissolved. The lodging on offer is simple, just a few cement blocks of eight beds to a room and shared cold-water facilities. But personally I wouldn’t want it any other way — the basic digs naturally keep the crowds thin, and meant we had our backyard beach pretty much to ourselves.

Though I was disappointed to later learn that small cruise ships occasionally dock up at the island and dominate the small stretch of sand, it is still refreshingly undeveloped. Tourist infrastructure is completely undeveloped meaning almost anyone who sets foot on the island is on a tour of some kind, whether a diving trip, a fishing charter, or a snorkeling expedition.

As we unpacked and enjoyed lunch, we got acquainted with some of the island’s wildlife, namely the prehistoric-looking vultures that were perpetually lurking nearby. Sadly the island’s resident 10-foot crocodile, Tito, would elude us throughout the trip.

Despite the relaxing settling, this is actually a fairly fast-paced trip. It felt that as soon as we docked we were turning around again to head out on the third dive of the day.

Our third dive site was Iglesia, which I was thankful to hear is known for its lack of currents. We descended down to 120 feet but there was a freezing thermocline and awful visibility, so we headed for the shallows. There, we were rewarded with sightings of more frogfish, another seahorse, a shy octopus, and our first turtle of the trip.

On the short ride back to Isla de Coiba, dolphins leapt and played in our wake. Dinner was waiting for us back at the station, and I once again marveled at how delicious and beautifully presented the food was — I had kind of been expecting ramen noodles heated over a small fire, and here I was getting gourmet! It turns out our cook was none other than the wife of Scuba Coiba’s owner and founder. I told her if she cooked like that for me, I’d probably marry her too.

It’s not really hyperbole to say that on that night, I collapsed with exhaustion. Three challenging dives combined with an early wake-up call and hours of sun exposure equaled one sleepy girl. But as I slept I dreamed of the adventures ahead — our time on this little island gem in the Pacific had only just begun.

Had you ever heard of Isla de Coiba before this post? Stay tuned for Part II!

Many thanks to Scuba Coiba for their hospitality. As always, you receive my thorough and honest opinions regardless of who is footing the bill.

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