BY BRIAN CLARK
Gannett News Service

LA PAZ, Mexico - In a series of coves that would have made a stunt pilot jealous, the juvenile sea lion cavorted 30 feet beneath the surface of the Sea of Cortez. After multiple spins, it darted up and did a roll or two for added effect.

More on Baja

• Fishing: Big-game fishing trips are offered by Baja Expeditions. • Information: (800) 843-6967. Check with your travel agent for packages that include lodging, diving and fishing trips. • Air transportation: La Paz, Mexico, is served with direct flights by Aero California, Mexicana and Aero Mexico. Check with your travel agent for connections and airline partnership agreements.

But the best was yet to come: The frisky acrobat swam straight at my scuba mask, veering off only at the last second to narrowly avoid a collision.

Then the little imp zipped up behind me and tugged at one of my flippers. When I turned around to see what was going on, I could swear he smirked, as if to say, ''o what are you gonna do about it?''

So it goes in the Sea of Cortez, which draws scuba enthusiasts from around the world to dive with turtles, sailfish, schooling hammerhead sharks, manta rays, whale sharks and other sea life.

''I don't think I'll ever get tired of diving here because there is so much to see,'' says Ricardo Fifield, a 22-year-old guide for the Cortez Club dive operation.

Mr. Fifield, a Baja native who spent two of his high school years in Wisconsin, was 8 when he saw his first school of hammerhead sharks. He was 70 feet below the surface at a dive site called ''El Bajo,'' known in English as ''The Deep.'' Several hundred sharks were between Mr. Fifield and the safety of his boat.

''I was so scared that I had a hard time getting air,'' he recalls. ''But my cousin took me up through them, and they never bothered us.

Exploring sunken ferry

Scuba certification cards in hand, we booked dives that would take us to wrecks, sea mounts, caves and sea lion dens. Mr. Fifield and other friendly dive shop employees loaded our gear on the Sonadora, or Dreamer, and we were on our way.

Our first destination was the Wreck of Salvatierra, a 300-foot Mexican ferry that hit a reef in 1975 and sank in 60 feet of water.

Because I hadn't dived in a year, I was a bit nervous putting on my gear. But as soon as I flopped over backward, hit the water and pulled in a breath or two from my regulator, I began to relax.

Down we floated, taking our time, equalizing the pressure in our ears and adapting to our watery environment. Once on the bottom, all five divers gave the ''OK'' signal and began exploring the wreck. We saw slender trumpet fish, goat fish with scraggly whiskers, balloon fish and beaked parrot fish.

One of the most interesting was a spotted, box-shaped putter fish that had a sharp hose and what appeared to be little propellers that spun on its side.

We floated past overturned semitrailer trucks and twisted pieces of ferry. But far more entertaining was a little jeweled moray eel that was as affectionate as a kitten.

Forty minutes into the dive, we signaled we were low on air. We kicked slowly to the surface, stopping at 15 feet to decompress for a few minutes.

There were smiles all around as we stripped off our gear, and the boat headed for lunch at one of the many dazzling white strands that are characteristic of Baja.

Another world below

Eric Southerland, a 74-year-old Englishman who has been diving around the globe for 12 years, strolled the beach, searching for shells.

''I love to dive when I travel,'' said Mr. Southerland as he munched on a chicken burrito. ''It's another world below the surface of the ocean.''

Our second descent of the day took us to Lobos (Wolves) Rock, where we saw a bulls-eye ray that looked like it had a target on the middle of its back. We also swam with a school of small Mexican barracudas that seemed to be moving up, down and sideways at the same time.

After breakfast of mango, pineapple, banana, coffee and a bagel on the second morning, we boarded the Sonadora for a 90-minute ride to the famed sea mount of El Bajo.

But the sea was too rough to make it to El Bajo, so we opted for some rocky guano-covered islands that were home to scores of barking sea lions.

After lunch on a beach made of wave-rounded coral, we went to a spot called Whale Caves.

We descended to 40 feet and swam around a point into the shadows along the northeast wall.

We shined our flashlights on bright orange and red coral that covered the walls. When light hit dull-looking starfish, brilliant scarlet spikes appeared.

Inside the caves, strong surges from waves carried me up toward the roof. Not wanting to get crunched, I scooted out quickly.

On the final day of diving, we awakened to calm seas and made our getaway to El Bajo.

''Maybe we'll be lucky to see hammerheads,'' said Mr. Southerland as we bounded over the water. ''That would truly make my day.''

According to Cortez Club co-owner James Curtis, divers often see hammerheads at El Bajo or the other sea mounts nearby. But the warm water of El Nino apparently has been keeping the away this season.

Final gesture spurned

Lunch found us at the isolated Bonanza beach on the east side of Espiritu Santo where we hunted for shells and watched brightly colored crabs scurry along the rocky shore.

We ended our dive trip the way we had started - at a wreck. On the way back, we stopped at Swany Rock in the San Lorenzo Channel to inspect a sunken boat.

As a final gesture, I tried to feed yet another moray eel a burrito from lunch. But the eel showed no interest as the burrito fell less than a foot from its mouth. I wanted to recover the food and feed it to some other fish, but those teeth looked too sharp.

That night during dinner along the city's curving waterfront, troubadours strolled and a soft, warm breeze made the candle at our table flicker.

We watched scores of sailboats bob in the Bahia de La Paz, told stories from dive trips in years past and made plans to return to see the hammerheads.

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