I didn't get a full eight hours last night, so I went through much of today half-awake. I don't know how it'd be different fully awake, because the highlights would have been the same.
After dressing and getting our gear together, Dad and I got off the boat and headed into Cockburn Town to meet with our dive group. Three Grand Turk Islanders were our master divers... they saved us newbies the trouble of hooking up our tanks and vests, so all we had to do was produce proof of competence (SCUBA certification) and fill out some paperwork before suiting up and heading to the dive site. Thank god... the last time I dived was four years ago. I didn't really reviewed the procedural stuff, but remembering all the dire warnings in the manual (breathe continuously or die... do a mandatory safety stop or die...) I was quite terrified of getting back in the water.
A good omen: a pod of dolphins started jumping out of the water in front of and around the boat as we made our way to the dive site. Once we were suited up, stepping off the boat and jumping into the water was like riding a bike. Breathe, swim, equalize your ears and keep your mask clear: when in doubt, follow the dive instructor.
After a few minutes of this low-level panic, I reached the reef and started to relax a little and look around - hundreds, maybe thousands of fish - iridescent blue, green, and sometimes virile red or camouflage'd brown and black. Coral and god-knows-what-type of plants just chilling out on this reef that was so big, so expansive, that one tiny section of it formed an archway that six divers could easily swim through. When we DID pass through the tunnel, the other side was a sheer drop-off that seemed to go on and on forever. This was a little frightening at first, but we were slowly ascending up and around the reef to finish up our tour.
This mixture of fear and wonder etched the experience in my brain. It seems like each dive is like that... the second one was less frightful, and longer - I was breathing easier - but It, too, left its mark... I remember swimming next to my dad, my dive buddy, and watching one of our guides tickle a brown, 40-lb grouper (apparently nicknamed "Alexander") who lazily squirmed around their fingertips and seemingly laughed as he swam away from the group.
I remember several different schools of fish, parrotfish, trumpetfish, clownfish and Dorys following us around, as if they were as curious of us as we were of them. Feeling that one-ness with nature... being so close to these creatures that you could reach out and touch them...THAT was happiness incarnate. Amplifying this was this feeling of utter freedom - being able to glide through the water with my fins, to hover above things, to be able to move exactly as if I were flying. I have flying dreams a lot, which some say is a subconscious desire for freedom.
Once the dive was over, I asked Roger, one of the guides, about his job as a dive master. He said that it's most peoples' dream job; you work in the sun, getting paid to do what you love... "lots of girls." So noted. He also told me that it wasn't that difficult to get certified as a master diver - most of the classes and paperwork involved can be done online. I think I'll look into that... It'd make for an interesting summer job. The only thing Roger had to say about that idea was; "just don't set up shop in Grand Turk. I don't want no competition from you."
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