To Swim With Sharks, They Do Windows

Being a scuba diver in Colorado, like a skier in Hawaii, can be frustrating.

There’s no saltwater here, the fresh water is cold and the fish tend more toward dull-eyed carp than flashy tuna.

Yet some divers have found a loophole in geography, a way to drift in tropical seas without ever leaving Denver.

The catch?

They must scrub and vacuum while making nice with sharks, barracuda and sawfish lingering over their shoulders at the city aquarium.

“I tell myself: ‘They are fish eaters, they are fish eaters,’ ” said diver Dave Nasser. “But sometimes you look into the black eyes of those sharks swimming past, and you realize it’s a look that hasn’t changed in 300 million years.”

Every day, volunteer divers come to Denver’s Ocean Journey, suit up and plunge into the water. Some prefer the shark tank, others the less ferocious bass and catfish exhibits. The trade-off is obvious: Divers keep their skills sharp, the aquarium gets some free cleaning and patrons can wave at a tank of fish and expect a wave back.

Scott Taylor, vice president of the Diving Equipment and Marketing Assn. and co-owner of A-1 Scuba & Travel Center in Englewood, Colo., said this landlocked state had one of highest numbers of divers per capita in the country.

“We are in the top 10 nationwide,” Taylor said. “Coloradoans are energetic, outgoing people, and scuba diving is one of those adventure sports they enjoy. We also have a great airport, and can hop on a plane and be in Cozumel [Mexico] in three hours.”

Taylor, 52, is a former aquarium diver. “It was fun to wave and pose for photos,” he said. But there was a downside. “You are essentially an underwater janitor,” he said. “Not that it’s bad, but you are sucking up fish poop and cleaning windows.”

Similar programs are offered in aquariums around the nation. The Monterey Bay Aquarium has 130 volunteer divers. “They do windows, but they also do diving shows in our kelp forest,” said Ken Peterson, aquarium spokesman. “We have paraplegics who dive. They find incredible freedom in the water.”

Denver’s Ocean Journey -- one of the largest aquariums in the country -- has 95 volunteers, from 21 to 70 years old.

Divers go down in pairs. They spend two hours scrubbing glass windows, cleaning algae off fake coral and feeding the fish.

“The average sport diver dives once or twice a year,” said Jim Prappas, director of biology for Landry’s national restaurant chain, which owns the Denver aquarium. “This is a great way to take people who have the time and inclination to volunteer and get them into the water It’s not free labor. It’s a tie-in to the community.”

Volunteers often wear masks with microphones and talk to people walking past, explaining what they are doing inside. In December, a diver dresses like Santa and swims around the tanks.

“Some folks think all we do is swim and wave,” said Colby Lorenz, volunteer diver coordinator. “We train all the divers and test them to be sure their skills are what they say they are.”

Kandy Rulle said diving was the best part of her week.

“I drive in from the mountains and suddenly I am in the tropics,” Rulle said as she prepared to sink into a 360,000-gallon tank with 11 sharks, three barracudas and a wide assortment of tropical fish. “At first the sharks frightened me ... but after a while it was cool to see them swimming past your face.”

As she submerged, the sharks began circling, including a 400-pound sand tiger with dozens of teeth jutting from its open mouth. A zebra shark sidled up, rubbing gently against her.

Rulle soon was trailed by curious sea life. Large parrotfish, unicorn fish and triggerfish engulfed her. Using a suction cup to anchor herself, she began washing a window. Then she produced a plastic jug and emptied food into the water. A frenzy ensued. The sharks hung motionless a few feet away, studying the scene with a detached glare.

“The sharks are used to people,” Lorenz said. “They don’t really need to scare you, if they want to they just move you out of the way.”

Above the Sea of Cortez tank, Nasser, 58, and Roger Pearce, 60, got into their wetsuits.

Both men travel the world to dive, but when they can’t make it to the Great Barrier Reef or Grand Cayman, they drive to the aquarium.

“You learn very quickly that all of these animals have distinct personalities,” Nasser said as a colorful collection of marine life slithered and swam below. “Some are very easygoing, like the guitarfish, and some more assertive, like the hogfish, which has bitten everybody. Everyone thinks the moray eels are mean, but they are like Mr. Magoo -- half blind.”

One big green moray, with spiky teeth, likes wrapping around the divers. “It’s solid muscle,” Nasser said.

Pearce smiled. “This is the best saltwater diving in Colorado,” he said.