Lunch was eaten, ice creams soon followed, my healthy regime of fruit and water destroyed in a moment. Steve returned at 1.30 from his day on the dive boat with tales of blown 'O' rings and elusive shrimps. He had been discussing with Nick, on the way out to the dive site, all his various diving disasters. The final query to Nick, asking if he had ever had to cope with an 'O' ring blow out underwater, was met with,
“It hasn't happened yet and I don't plan for it to happen!”
Seven minutes into their dive Steve swam over to Nick and pointed to his tank. Bubbles were steaming from the valve, spiralling upwards to the surface like some underwater geyser, the 'O' ring had blown! Nick stared at it in silent amazement, turned the air off and together they surfaced. The rig was removed and passed up to the boat, the 'O' rig was replaced and the rig was passed back into the water. Steve kitted up and they sank beneath the depths once more.
At the bottom Steve checked his air, 80 bar! Enough for possibly 5 to 10 minutes. They surfaced again, replaced the tank, reassembled the kit, and tried again. The rest of the dive progressed well, with both divers enjoying their search and find routine, as they scoured the depths for shrimps and other creatures. Nick took a selection of photos, Steve found more and more things to photograph and the dive was soon over.Their second dive progressed without incident and they returned home with tales to tell. We took Steve home for a shower and a snooze before joining Kris and Steph for our evening meal. Another day over.
Wednesday was a snorkel day for Steve and myself, open water rescues scenarios for Lisa, plus an early morning breakfast in the bay. The alarm woke us at 5.45, the sun well above the horizon, we were expected at the dive shop by 6.20! If we were having Staff Discount, then we had to do Staff work! Steve and Lisa helped to load the van with the days requirements, while I sat silently contemplating the memo that Simon had sent out the week before. It read,
'Why is it that when there are 10 people to load the van each morning, you STILL manage to forget something!'
I wondered what today's 'missing item' would be. With the van loaded and on its way, we boarded the mini bus, following at a discreet distance. Tanks and equipment were unloaded at the dock, carried down a lot of steps and stored safely onto the boat. The next job was the assembly of everybody's kit. BCDs (Buoyancy Control Devices) were joined to tanks and regulators. 
Air pressures were checked , Small BCDs were paired with the small wet suits, Large BCDs were draped with large wetsuits, ready for the customers arrival. Boxes were stored, storage bags were hidden and with the boat finally 'ship shape', we returned to the harbour side to find our breakfast.
The whole area around the harbour, is filled with shops, static stalls and tiny mobile stalls that can cook you up the most amazing breakfast in seconds. Rolls filled with eggs, rolls filled with meat, cheese, salad, chilli sauce or a combination of them all, rice with eggs, rice with meat, rice with fish, omelets cooked in your very own pan, noodle soup, iced coffee, strange smelling tea, or even a deep fried sea horse or two!Lisa opted for a simple cheese roll, Steve joined Kris in a runny omelet, coffees arrived and breakfast was set.
A side note about the way ice is used, may be of interest at this point. Hot coffee is a rarely consumed in this hot climate, iced tea, iced coffee, iced cola in a bag, is more the norm. The ice is delivered to the side of the road in large slabs, these are then covered with a huge tarpaulin to keep off, whatever it is they need to keep off.
When ice is required by some-one, or some stall, they approach the ice slab guardian and request what ever amount they need. A chunk is then hacked off the ice mountain and moved to its new location. Sometimes on a push bike, sometimes in a carry bag, sometimes by hand. It is then smashed into smaller chunks and eventually ends in ones coffee, or other iced drink of choice.
Once you have witnessed this process, on the side of main road, or on the street pavement, or on the rat infested harbour slabs, one tries not to think about it ever again, and simply enjoys the cold drink as it passes down the throat!
With breakfast over, we returned to the boat in time to welcome the guests of the day. Ten fellow diver boarded, the lines were drawn in and we were off. As we approached the harbour mouth and slowed to allow a calm rendition of the 'Morning's Briefing', I noted with surprise that the tyres, usually used to protect the bow, were being drawn up onto the deck on the starboard side.
Sean completed the 'Boat's Brief' and we once again fired up the motor and headed out to sea. It takes about 45 minutes to reach the dive site, a trip I have now completed many times, a chance to enjoy the gentle swells and gaze at the lobster village en route. Today the ride proved to be slightly different.
As we cleared the lee of the first island, the full force of the wind hit us. Swells of 5 to 6 foot picked us up and dropped us with a large splash back into the sea. Belongings were soon being moved into the captain's cabin as more and more water splashed its way into the boat. Having decides that once I was wet, I was wet, I removed my sarong, stowed my bag and positioned myself to the front of the boat, starboard side. Standing, with a firm grip on the overhead hand rail, I abandoned myself to the cooling spray and waves.
We headed directly into the ever growing waves, each one picking us up high, before the anticipated slam into the trough sent the next wave careering over the front of the boat. I watched, in fascination, the way the waves rocked and moved us, I felt the rhythm in my knees, felt the deck move below my feet and kept myself fluid with each roll.
From a distance, two enormous waves were approaching. I knew the first wave would lift us, the second would probably break on us. I stood facing into the wind, ready for the wave, ready for the lift, ready for the huge drop. What I wasn't ready for was the way the centre benches, full of seated people, flew across the boat, the way the tanks broke loose, crashing onto their sides and the way the huge water butt fell from its shelf to the floor, smashing itself in the process. With my eyes fixed firmly on the horizon, knees absorbing the movement, I hadn't realised that the boat had nearly turned over, throwing customers and equipment around like toys. I had watched it approach, I had bent my knees and ridden out the movement, they had not. Kris quickly checked the customers while staff rescued the equipment.
Half a dozen more swells lifted and threw us away before our captain turned the boat quickly, cutting across the waves to have them to our rear, pushing us along and safe into the lee of the next island. Calm returned to the boat, gentle rocking replaced our maddened dance. People moved the benches and once again sat down. We had about ten minutes to restore the place until we broke out into unprotected waves again.
Our second pounding was much shorter lived than the first. No enormous waves attacked us. Huge waves picked us up and threw us to the floor, water ran in torrents down the length of the boat but adrenaline had hit in and everyone clung smiling to the hand rails, moving with the rhythm.
The dive site was reached without further drama, calm water surrounded Octopus Rock, people began to get ready for their dives. I looked back at the white cresting waves beyond the island. Forget snorkelling, I wanted to go back out there again!!!
Steve and I donned our masks and fins and slipped into the water. We had decided to follow Jordan and his two divers from the surface as they worked their way along the sea floor, searching for things of interest.
We repeatedly dove down to their sides, looking at what they were looking at and then returning to the surface for another breath. As they circled the large rock with a tiny swim through, Steve dove down and swam through the tiny hole. I had been through the swim-through with Kris earlier in the week but from the other side. The entrance looked quite small from this side. Steve surfaced saying to be careful of my back as I went through. I dove down, wiggled through the hole and was paying so much attention to my back clearance, I failed to notice how close the edge wall was, and scrapped my elbow!
I surfaced, annoyed with myself for being so careless and nursing a bleeding joint. We continued with our swim finding more and more swim through's along the way.
The wind, although lessened by the island, was still giving me a chill factor and I returned to the boat well before Steve to warm myself on the sheltered deck.
The divers returned soon after, changed their air supply and with lunch eaten we moved slightly along the coast to the second dive site. The shallow reef at Tri-Ming is teeming with life and I was soon absorbed within its ecosystem.
Long trumpet fish hung in the water, stripe legged shrimps clung under ledges, dragon fish lay silent on the sand. Reef watching is addictive, the more you look, the more you see, the more you want to look. The wind once more drove me onto the hot sheltered deck where I rested from my exertions. The sun was hot and I was soon dozing with the gentle rocking. I awoke to the sound of engines.
The two boats we were moored to were moving. Our rope was thrown back to us and we moved 75m to join the other two boats moored in the bay. Warren surfaces beside the boat, a cheer went up from the Boat Dive Masters for his accuracy. Kris and Lisa surfaced at our original mooring spot, as did Steph and Sean with their divers. Jordan surfaced 50m beyond the original drop off point and looked longingly at the boat now over 100m away. With everyone else now on-board, Kris decided it was easier to pick him up along the way and the engine roared into life.
The pick up went smoothly, or as smoothly as the jeering crowd would allow. The divers were pulled on board as the wind began to whip around the bay. When the captain looked out of his cabin to check we were ready to leave, his baseball cap was picked up by a rogue gust and flung into the sea. Lisa, having just completed her second day of rescue Diver, shouted “Rescue Diver, let me through!” and dived off the back of the boat. She surfaced right next to the cap, placed it on her head and returned to the boat, a successful rescue completed, to rounds of applause and smiles!
A warning to secure all belongings, as turning around would not be an option once we reached the open sea, was delivered to the boat and we began our journey home. It was not as dramatic as our outward journey but none the less exhilarating. We battled into the wind for about 100 meters, at ease now with the familiar rise and crash of the waves, before turning sharply, driving them to our stern. A straw sun hat flew overboard. We all looked at it for a second, the boat still for the moment, as the engine recovered from the turn. Do we, don't we? The next wave answered the question for us, picking us up and surging us forward.
Wave after wave carried us away from the stricken hat, white foam fighting its way onto the decks once more.In the distance we watched the final dive boat leave the dive site and fight its way through the waves. Unlike us, it cut straight across the waves and was rolling dangerously from side to side. We watched, grateful for the foresight of our captain, as the other boat was thrown this way and that, by the relentless waves and wind.
We reached the safety of the harbour battered and windswept. It had been the best boat ride I had ever had and I had loved every minute of it. Out of the wind, however, I realised that I had possibly caught the sun just a touch more than anticipated. Glowing cheeks were soon being cooled under a very cold shower and an hours sleep was had by all.
Kris, unable to take a recovery sleep due to the fact that he had to work, requested an early night that evening. We joined him at Sailing Club for an hour, while he finished his shift and, having said our good-nights, Lisa, Steve and I, walked along the beach as the days gales dropped to a pleasant evening breeze.
A full moon crested the island, hazy in the evening sky. We stopped for a photo or two before returning to our rooms. A few games of backgammon followed, a few pages of the books were read before the power died!
In darkness and without the aid of a cooling fan we retired to our beds. It was 9pm!!!
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