Eat. Dive. Dive. Eat. Nap. Dive. Screw*. Eat. Drink. Screw*. Sleep.

Repeat as necessary.

What is it?  Wednesday or something?  We’ve got two days of diving left, plus a good bit of time to fart around on the island.

Pondering questions no more important than “Will we get that yummy conch chowder again for lunch?” and “Why do flying fish fly?”

Spotted my first hammerhead shark today.  Sucked 200 psi of air out of my tank yelling “HAMMERHEAD” into my regulator before realizing no one could hear me…  Also succeeded in not soiling my diveskin in the process.  Score.

The degree of focus required to do this, combined with the gorgeous, isolated locale, is therapeutic.  Exhausting and satisfying.

Watching a reef shark inhale a wounded lion fish and then disappear into the deep blue within seconds.  A damn good reminder of how lucky i am to be able to do the things i do…

For now…

* This particular part of the therapy becomes optional as the week progresses, due to extreme physical, and physiological, fatigue.