The wreck is one of Bermuda's most historic as it sunk in 1864 but has been the subject of extra interest ever since January when a corked bottle of wine was discovered in its bow. Some people will go to extraordinary lengths to get their hands on wine from a good year!
It's hoped that the film will really cement Bermuda's place as a must-do for divers and give the tourism offensive some buoyancy. The island is certainly a wreck mecca, with over 500 in its waters. I've been lucky enough to visit two, The Lartingdon and the Cristobal Colon, and it definitely beats the murky waters filled with sunken taxi cabs and pinball machines of Stoney Cove in the UK, where I did my BSAC training. Many of the wrecks are partially intact so you can actually visualise Kate Winslet and Leo DiCaprio once walking their decks. What's also great is that the history of many of the ships' skeletal remains have been extensively research so get an education as you dive (and a nifty certificate after telling the wreck's story so you can impress your friends with how much you learnt!).
Apparently most of the ships met their fate as a result of the 200 square miles of coral reef surrounding the island rather than the infamous Bermuda Triangle's influence.
This got me thinking of other things that have been lost at sea on their passage to Bermuda. Hmmm... sense of style. I've just returned from a much-needed break to Montreal and being in a city once more reminded me of just how un-cosmopolitan I have become in my dress-sense. Now Bermuda is no Banana Republic and has a sophisticated corporate community as an international business hub but still it is a hot and sweaty sub-tropical island after all so standards do drop. There's also a lack of choice and the expense involved updating one's wardrobe locally to contend with. I find myself kicking back in my Havianas most of time (outside of the office that is) but as durable as they are they don't quite cut it in the city when everyone else is donning posh little pumps and it rains for three days straight. I also lack any kind of jacket that isn't of the bright and shiny waterproof kind. I was definitely a fish out of water on the chic Quebecois streets.
And another thing that has failed to successfully wash up on Bermuda's shore is a sense of urgency. Oh yes, spend a week in civilisation and you realise just how much you've got used to being on island time. I'm not just talking about the Atlantic Standard time zone but the laissez-faire attitude of the locals. I noticed this most when waiting for my bus back to the airport at 5am at a stop 5 minutes from my guest house. Montreal peeps know its visitors have planes to catch and everything runs to time, works as it should according to the website and leaflets, and gladly accommodates your luggage. You notice the difference when you land in Bermuda for the first time and can't find any information about how to get out of the airport to save your life and even if you did you realise that the bus timetable was not designed with the flight schedule in mind. All logic and reason was sucked into that triangle along with many a shipping vessel or aircraft (as recent negative coverage of the current tourist bus fiasco will testify!).
Although I have to admit I'm as much a sucker for Bermuda's charm as I am a stickler for improving its inadequacies. You know you're in Bermuda when you pile into a taxi with all your bags, realise you haven't got any money, make the driver wait while you queue for a cashpoint and he still smiles and calls you honey. If you were in London, your bags would be in the middle of a puddle on the pavement. I have to say I also find it a much more pleasant experiencing being lulled to sleep by the chirping of a thousand tree frogs than the sounds of inner city life, inner city pressure - the boom of the street being power washed at 12.30am, the smashing of a Smirnoff bottle outside your window and sirens splitting every moment of serenity. Oh yes, paradise does have is undeniable pull factors...
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