I started to worry as I saw nothing on the way down.
Nafna.
before I could even sort out my breathing, the dive master pointed out into the blue.
I turned my head.
In the distance, it was flapping its wings.
It was a chevron manta. It was coming my way. It was big.
It cared not of the silver and white tips gathered beneath us.
Nor did it seem to be impressed from the view of the immense glorious rocks climbing from the depth
sticking their tops out to the much lighter blue of sky.
All it wanted was the company of a few tiny colorful bubble makers.
It soared gracefully by and into the distance.
It seemed to wave at his friends.
Six or seven or maybe even ten or more … They came solo, they came in pairs.
Some all black some with splashes of white. On their belly. On their back.
They scattered out of formation.
And cut through us with ease, in all directions. From below and above.
Once and again. And again. And again.
In all directions. From below and above.
Not long after grey dolphins joined the dance of black and white.
It seemed they were having as much fun as us. Or even more.
As it was us who had to ascent from the circus of the blue.