Day three in Mexico, day two of diving. Except today’s diving was canceled by high winds. We lost four dives. That hurts. So we sat under the shady palm trees of the beach. Later, I went back to the room to take a nap. For some reason I woke up this morning, early. The room doesn’t make sense, so I had no idea what time it was. After a time I went to the bathroom, and checked my phone on the way.
It was 4:30. I could still get almost three hours of sleep.
I could not go back to sleep. So I was tired.
With no diving to be had, I enjoyed a late afternoon nap.
Rallied just in time to see the sunset, though.
And that ain’t bad.
A few more shots from yesterday’s dives, since I have worked through about half of the raw photos of the day. (Seriously, we’ll be at this for weeks. It’ll be great.)
There’s my mom, diving since the G.H.W. Bush administration.
Me too, come to think of it.
Sometimes people ask you, what’s the secret to taking a good photo of a person underwater. (No one asks me that, but let’s assume they did.) I can tell you definitiely: the secret to taking a good photo of a person underwater is to go diving with someone who doesn’t breathe.
Rule number one of diving is this: Keep breathing. But that’d mean you’d have to start. As far as I know, she only ever breathes when she runs. That is an undoctored photo. There are five little bubbles. Behind her, the tank is leaking as much air as she is exhaling.
When a tank and regulator rig let’s a little air slip through an aging o-ring like that it isn’t a concern at all. And you see it a lot, especially on this tourist-rental set ups. When a person runs through air as slowly as the tank, it’s impressive.
We drifted over this conch shell yesterday. Whatever is inside is going somewhere.
You wonder where it’s headed, and how long it has been on the move.
You wonder how long it has taken, and what the critter inside will find when it gets there.
More diving tomorrow, hopefully.
