by Clint Thomsen

Guest Columnist

The snow fell steadily as I drove west through Grantsville. The storm had been under way for a few hours, and I was one of the first to drive through the resulting winterscape. The fresh blanket of snow and the light-lined houses had turned the sleepy town into a sort of Charles Dickens-meets-Louis L'Amour wonderland. It was the perfect day to make a snowman, sip hot chocolate and do some Snorkling

"Did you order this?" Linda Nelson asked, reaching out to catch a few snowflakes as she walked through the slushy parking lot to meet me. She and her husband, George Sanders, own and operate Bonneville Seabase, a full-service diving facility that they built from the ground up nearly two decades ago. Their collection of geothermal springs and the sea life that calls this place home are a popular oasis for diving enthusiasts from all over the country.

Linda stopped at the freezer to grab a tray of fish for the morning feeding and led me into the large aqua dome that covers White Rocks Bay. No sooner did she toss a handful of squid along its shallow banks than a crowd of large pompanos, bannerfish, French angelfish and jacks hurried to the surface for breakfast. The frenzy climaxed when a 9-foot nurse shark lunged from the depths to inhale a section of whiting fish along with a handful of small mollies that had already been feeding on it.

Each of the pools at Seabase is a natural hot spring with temperatures ranging from 70 to 90 degrees, depending on depth and season. Though the water at Seabase differs somewhat from the ocean in acidity and composition, the fish thrive there. Several species breed regularly, including pork fish, scats and monos.

When George and Linda bought the land in 1988, the springs were messy mud pools spoiled by years of careless dumping. After careful restoration, Seabase opened in 1990. The couple had been looking for natural springs to use as training dive sites. They used a geothermal map to scope out hot springs within a 100-mile radius of Salt Lake City.

"My parents were geologists, so I knew there were plenty of springs we could use for diving," Linda said. "Our relatives all dubbed us crazy, but we were right."

After the morning feeding it was time for me to don my wetsuit (an art that I am far from mastering) and get in the water. I've always loved the ocean and everything associated with it. My sea gene became manifest one day as a young boy at SeaWorld, when I was selected from the audience to meet Shamu the killer whale. The moment I ran my hand over that slick orca skin I fell in love. I hugged the whale and fed him some squid and the sea has coursed through my veins ever since.

But ocean addiction is rough for a landlocked desert rat -- especially when the nearest coast is two states and hundreds of gas dollars away. And Discovery Channel specials and repeated viewings of "Finding Nemo" just don't cut it. So I was stoked to jump into the salty waters at Seabase. Linda handed me a head of romaine lettuce to coax fish within visual range and I descended the ladder into the spring. The water was chilly at first, but the neoprene wetsuit warmed me back up quickly. With lettuce in hand, I swam toward the center of the pool to make some tropical friends.

Sagan Latendresse, a 9-year-old girl whose family rents a home on Linda's land, walked into the aqua dome and crouched down on the banks to offer me some advice.

"Swim somewhere and then hold still," she said. "They need to get used to you."

Because the phosphates in the water give it a greenish tint, fish at Seabase aren't immediately visible at surface level. But the spring is teaming with sea life and it wasn't long before the slight tugs at my lettuce reminded me that I was not alone. I tightened my mask and ducked under to discover four large scats nipping at the leaves with a shy blue surgeon tang looking on.

Linda told me the presence of Seabase's two nurse sharks in the bay makes some divers uneasy about swimming there, but she assured me they are friendly and mostly keep to themselves at the bottom where the water is warmer. For me, being in such close quarters with 9-foot sharks made the experience all the more exciting. A few times I thought I spotted one, but I wasn't sure. I assumed they had retreated to the bottom to avoid me, until I surfaced near the bank and Sagan casually mentioned that one of the sharks had just glided under my left flipper.

When I reluctantly climbed out of the water, I used Linda's charts to show her which fish I had seen.

"We need to get you diving," she said, sensing my excitement.

The deeper you go, the more you see. The best way to experience Seabase's is with a tank and some weights.

"The ocean is the last accessible frontier," Linda wrote me later. "I can't imagine how my life would have been if I hadn't gotten lucky enough to be a diver."

If that isn't reason enough for me to try it out, I don't know what is.

Clint Thomsen is a Stansbury Park resident who grew up climbing mountains, wandering desert paths and exploring Utah's wilds. He may be contacted via his Web site at www.bonnevillemariner.com.

TRIP TIPS:

Bonneville Seabase is located just northwest of Grantsville on SR-138. The facility is open to individuals by appointment Thursday to Sunday, and open to groups by appointment Monday to Wednesday.