If you ask divers about their dreams, you will hear a lot of sublime things. Some want to see whale sharks, others manta rays. My longing animals look like gray sausages, with stumpy arms, beady eyes and bristles around the wrinkled snout. But what manatees lack in elegance, they make up for in character. They are said to be deeply relaxed, sometimes they are said to hug people.
For 15 years I dived after them, in Indonesia and Egypt, Mexico and Mozambique. Vain. And now, in a backwater in Northwest Florida, I stick my head underwater while snorkeling – and immediately see my first manatee.
Crystal River calls itself the “world capital of the manatee”. From mid-November, when the Gulf of Mexico gets colder than 20 degrees, they swim up the rivers. Hundreds of manatees then crowd into the warm springs, where they have been protected since 1983.
It’s most beautiful there early in the morning when the fog is still hanging between the palm trees and Virginia oaks. In the Three Sisters Springs I see the manatees dozing in the extremely clear water behind a buoy line. Every few minutes her torso rises until her nostrils stick out of the water. Breathe deeply, then they sink back to the bottom.
In the Kings Spring, on the other hand, they want to play. Curious, a manatee swims up, nudges me, slides under me, and rolls onto its back like a puppy waiting for a scratch. I have to laugh, swallow water. And I’m finally a happy diver.