530AM, saw lights through the porthole, so I looked out and saw a well lit up boat passing close by us.. By the time I crawled out of the rack, I was informed that our dive plan had changed again, and were now diving the North Point, because some other scow had taken our spot! Now a third boat has joined us at the island. It’s getting downright crowded! Why did I bother leaving the city! I spent all of dive number one in the bathroom. I’ll spare you the details. Everyone came back from the dive gushing over the giant mantas. Lawrence noticed that, each time he missed a dive, the other divers saw everything: Mantas, dolphins, sharks, whales, mermaids. Once Lawrence got in the water, everything disappeared, and he was left with sea slugs. I was able to support his theory by doing the second dive, when all I felt was current and all I saw was my pressure gauge dropping like my stock portfolio, and not a pelagic to be seen.
Except by everyone else. What’s with these cleaning stations? Not only was there no cleaning at all, but no soap and brushes either. No wonder the mantas are so slimy!
One island closed by the Navy, the other by strong winds, and three dive boats full of expectant divers all at the same place hmmm, what to do? Trivial Pursuits, anyone? I’m afraid to ask about THE WIG, near the bar. I don’t dare bother the captain with such trivialities, as he is usually drunk on black rum by 7am and is taciturn and intolerant at the best of times. G*d help us all if he sobers up. But the wig is disturbing, more so because of what looks like dried skin underneath. I have visions of passengers gone missing, who somehow or other offended him. Dive number two was another new site, and everyone except our group saw mantas that were actually begging to get their bellies scratched, arching their backs sensually in a lurid dance designed to lure unwary divers ever closer to their gaping pectoral fins. I am actually a bit turned on now, back later.
By the way, many of us are wondering who the mystery man was who magically appeared on board today. Speculation ran from an assassin to a rum runner for the captain to a mechanic. Turns out he is a marine biologist and a white shark expert, who just happened to stop in for a visit. Apparently he’s looking for a killer great white shark named Pablo, responsible for many missing divers in these parts. Think I will be wearing chain mail on my dives tomorrow.
There was a whole flock of boobies on the front of the boat this morning. Carmen said that the ones on the deck were unable to escape because they hadn‚t enough room to fly away, and had to be removed by hand. Later that night, we had chicken for supper. There were a lot of feathers in the water. I didn’t ask questions. Looks like booby, tastes like chicken?
