December 4, 2010

As directionless as I am, there are times when I know exactly what I’m doing. Rebreathing carbon dioxide under a sheet, I’m writing this down to some stranger’s easy-hop track. The day was one of firsts: down with a  daecent cockerel strut to the next village and was dealt there my first SCUBA kit- one belt weights, one jacket buoyant, one regulator, one suit; wet, sleeveless. One tank compressed to two hundred atmospheres.

Standing there in neoprene, pressurised tubes and valves connected down my chest, I felt like Mau’dib, like something I’d draw. Three metres down, looking up at the rain from under a plate of coral, I was privileged. Awestruck.

I totally remember how to do all that. Abso. Lutely.

<:June 2010>

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