Sick day mate.
Woah.. actually just thought that.
Mate.
It’s engrained..
I’m down. Whatever. Could be our new Australian Instructor.
ANYWAYS..
Sick day mate.
It started with an awesome ride on the boat—Captain Melvin was late for the first time ever. It would be a laidback day.
To begin, a small crew– JT and the divemaster team which consists of Charlie, Caryss, Bettina, Sandino, and me. A slew of the countries England, Germany, Netherlands, and USA. Aka the international dive crew.
Without clients, I could sit on the very edge of the boat. All of my gear set and stable, tank cabled in place, secure. I didn’t have to worry about anyone else’s gear, or the possibility of a loose tank clanging outside of the shelf and breaking someone’s foot. I could just watch the rocky, volcanic cliff side—the deepest, wettest black. Tangled in green vines and exotic trees. The scene glided by slowly, and I lifted my head in awe of its beauty, its majesty. Rugged black against a booming blue sky. Aqua swirled around the volcanic reef, outlined in sizzling white bubbles. The waves sprayed, and spotted my skin. I felt the sun soak deep, into my cheeks.
I did what I needed to do as a divemaster, for myself, and not for anyone else. I could soak in the sun without my wetsuit on, and prepare later—knowing that there were no clients who would call for help with regulator attachment, or another mask. Chances are, my mask (for some reason Divemaster/Instructor masks seem to solve all cliental problems..) Chances of someone needing saving seriously decreased. I thought my mind could slip a little bit, relax a little bit.
We were all masters. We knew what we were doing.
Sooo we successfully searched and recovered missing weights at Acquario.
Expected.
And then we saw dolphins..
Unexpected.
Surface interval has officially been extended—says JT.
The dolphins swam in the distance, only allowing peeks of fin. But we sought them out. Onward, Melvin!
The small, almost black fins rolled in cycles above the waves. The bow of the boat parted the playing, peeking backs.
Four to the side, then three to the front, then five in the back.
We jumped in the water, dangling off the handline of the boat, faces and head completely submerged. Hoping to witness the dolphin in its natural habitat.
But still, only glimpses of back. But with submerged heads, squeaks rang like an active convo—actually, the same noise as my sinus-ears during a descent.
But with more purpose. They were definitely talking to each other.
So after we watched dolphins, I successfully completed my Divemaster rescue and 800meter tow—where I managed to tow my tired diver at a 5 star rate, so fast I dragged her head right into the ladder of the boat.. whoops. Sorry Betti! Thanks for the self-sacrifice as victim. Can’t say you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. Also, thank you for being my rescue victim. I apologize and thank you.
So we scrubbed the pool which wasn’t fun at all.. but we went really fast because we wanted to surf.
SURF.
RAD.
SICK.
PURA VIDA MAE.
And It was beautiful. I got in many different people’s ways at first, but managed to make it out alive. And on top of a pretty solid wave, with a pretty legit board—it almost matches a local pro’s.
At first, I wondered why everyone was staring at me.. heads turning, and bobbing, everytime I paddled by.
Is it that obvious? Am I that much of a newbie?
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME.
I kept asking Charlie, and Pat, but they wouldn’t tell me.
Finally, Pat whispered—you were yelling.
Oh..
I had been screaming before every wave.
Now that I think about it, I had been screaming many pointless things.
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD.
SHIT.
WAIT! WAIT! WAIT! → needless to say, that one never worked.
But all three of us were out until past dark, and it was exhausting, and lovely, and wonderful– in the lives of the international dive crew team.