Into The Blue

Sitting snuggeled up in my warm clothes and bed covers writing about the warm Caribbean is NOT the next best thing to being there.

I go through this agony every winter. It begins as soon as the first frost kills everything green and the cold winds force me indoors for the duration of the season. I find distractions to the cold on my computer, searching for island jobs, chatting with island people, searching villas to rent, and watching web cams from the islands.

Sad isn't it?

I have managed to go back to the warm places almost every winter for at least a one week vacation. This particular year I will not have that opportunity. South Florida was my target this time but I did not make it happen and it has left me feeling stuck here and regretting that decision.

When I reminisce about the islands, the things I vision the most are the warmth of the sun and freedom of being in the clear, blue water, under water, like a fish, part of the sea. I miss the sea.

I know I wasted many days while I was there not being in the sea but I spent a lot time in that water. I remember it so well. It was always the same but each venture was a new expedition. I never knew what I would see or what might happen. I could never predict a dive or a snorkel. It was always an adventure into an unknown land, an alien planet, and the weightlessness of being neutrally bouyant gave me the sensation that I could fly. And fly I did. I flew over the coral, off the wall, down the reef and between the rifts and shoals. I even flew in formation over the top of three large, spotted eagle rays! I glided quietly down beside an anglefish for a photo and I snuck up on many creatures while I held my breath and moved slowly through the blue.

I loved the sensation of looking deep down into the deep, endless blue. When I knew the bottom was down there somewhere but I could not see it. Aparently this frightened many people but not me, it excited me! My eyes widened and I found it hard not to stay and stare. I think I almost expected something to happen like a big fish or shark to come swimnming up or that I might get a glimps of the bottom down there. I never got to drop anything to see how long I could watch it fall. That would have been fun.

One of my most memorable such dives was in San Salvadore. The reef we dove there was incredible and the visibility endless. We were diving off a wall on all dives but it differed on each dive. I recall one dive where I had been so delighted to have seen a group of 5 supermale parrot fish and then swam over to the wall where it just dropped off to nowhere. The visibility had to be infniti that day but there was no bottom off that wall! How far did it go? How deep was it there? I had no idea. But I will NEVER, all of my days, forget that clear blue, deep blue, gorgeous hue I saw that day.