Scuba Diving at Las Catalinas, Costa Rica

May 2026

Blue sky wavered beyond the liquid ceiling I was not allowed to break. As I dipped lower, I lost sight of Las Catalinas. The rugged Costa Rican islands were a calming distraction while I bobbed in the warm Pacific, waiting my turn to descend to its depths. Now the ocean’s surface danced above me like carved glass in constant motion. Beautiful, I thought for a second. Then my panic rose again.

I knew scuba diving would be a challenge in managing anxiety when I booked this tour. As a non-certified diver, I spent an hour training with our guide in a shallow swimming pool. At first, I kept standing up. My brain rebelled against breathing underwater. Annoyed, I wrangled my survival instinct, pulling meditative breaths through my regulator and forcing my shoulders to relax.

The ocean was no three-foot pool, though. There was no option to just stand up. I stared at the dappled sunlight breaking through the watery barrier above me and felt tempted to call the whole thing off.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Cool air rushed through the regulator in my teeth, hitting the back of my throat with reassuring force. The ridges of the fluorescent guide rope felt sturdy against my palms. One hand down. Other hand down. Equalize. I held my nose and exhaled, letting my ears calibrate to each new pressure level. The clouding water engulfed me in opaque turquoise. My downward progress felt eternal as I pushed against my fear again and again. In my head, I recited the first rule of training like a mantra. Breathe continuously and never hold your breath.

Abruptly, my flippers hit the sandy bottom. I looked up. The surface was too far away to make out now. My heart had just started to race again, when the guide tapped my shoulder. I turned in the direction of his pointed finger.

Pearlescent fish drifted past my shoulder in a graceful arc, carrying all my tension away. The eddies in their wake caressed my skin. Tendrils of black hair swirled across my goggles, escaping from my braid, and I pushed them away to see all I could of this mysterious world I had entered.

Our guide led us around the reef, pointing out pufferfish, white fin sharks, and even an eel. Mastering the use of my flippers in neutral buoyancy, I soared over starfish and anemones of various sizes and patterns, feeling like a mermaid searching for treasure. Sea urchins and hermit crabs flaunted electric blue spots that radiated in the dim depths, giving iridescence a new meaning. Enamored, I chased every Sunset Wrasse, captivated by the fish’s shifting streaks of pink, violet, and turquoise. Every corner of the reef offered creatures of new shapes and bright colors that glowed more intensely than I had thought possible.

I drifted happily above the aquatic theater, interrupted only by sharp scrapes of coral grazing my knees. The resulting scars felt like kisses that lingered after a dream. Every so often the ocean surged, swinging me gently like a pendulum. I surrendered to the motion and reveled in the peace that came with letting go. More than once, I floated into the path of a school of fish. They parted and streamed around me, embracing me in a glittering cloud that left me breathless with joy.

When our guide gathered us again, I wasn’t ready to leave. I had ventured into an impossible world – one I wasn’t built to survive – and discovered magic. Swimming skyward, I found that crystalline ceiling again, flowing in its never-ending dance. Beams of blue and gold warmed my face as I rose. The ocean’s surface really was a stunning sight, somehow more beautiful from below. I broke through, smiling in the fresh air.