By C. David Conner
Breaking waves moved me from side to side as I tried to stay within the roped path and out of the rippling sea grass. Even though I was mostly submerged in comfortable 82- degree water, heat from the afternoon sun soaked into the dark material of my 3mm shorty. A striped eel passed a few feet away as it snaked along from one part of the grass to another. The swim from a small, wooden platform just off shore seemed to take forever as the ocean floor slanted downward at a leisurely angle. Thick sea grass thinned and gave way to jumbled rocks as I continued to kick forward. The narrow path finally opened into a wide channel, and a buoy bobbing up and down on the surface 15 feet above marked where night divers could hang individual tags on the rope to indicate they were exploring the wreck. At this resort, “the pool” was open 24 hours a day for divers to explore the local wreck known as the Prince Albert.
A hulking shadow loomed not far into the channel. In the early 1980s the ship was known as the Maas, and it arrived in Roatan filled with Nicaraguan refugees before falling into disrepair and being abandoned to rust in some mangroves. In 1984, local businessman Albert Jackson offered to tow the wreck to Coco View resort for divers to use as an artificial reef — it’s for Jackson that the ship was renamed the Prince Albert. After running aground on a reef in late 1984, the ship was finally sunk in CoCo View Channel in 1985.
On this day, strong winds and waves reduced visibility to about 40 feet, so much of Prince Albert’s lower portion was lost in the murky depths while streams of sunlight flickered along the bridge and upper hull. After almost 30 years underwater, sponges, coral and lots of sea life call the Prince Albert home. I spent most of my first dive fascinated by the pockmarked hull. A buck-toothed parrotfish swam near the bottom while I focused on a tiny cleaner shrimp staring me down from inside its home. A flash of silver streaked a few feet away as a long, silver barracuda dove down with some unknown purpose before leveling off to resume his tireless patrol of the wreck.
Around the stern and then to the port side I explored this behemoth. I enjoy watching large species, but sometimes there are great rewards to be had by looking for the little stuff — my efforts were vindicated by finding a small, pinkish seahorse hiding among the coral, its tail wrapped around a small branch.
As my air gauge dropped to 1500 psi, I began my ascent. Hovering at the height of the bridge, I imagined sailors going about their daily duties back when this ship had a life and purpose. Now Prince Albert serves as a submerged playground while the sea nibbles away at the metal husk. Over time it will whittle away into component elements, but for the foreseeable future this ship is a must-dive when in Roatan. An hour passed faster than I wanted and it was time to head back to shore. Lucky for us this pool is always open.
