On Sunday morning Heidi and I decided that we were too tired to cope with the demands of a dive, so settled for a snorkel instead at Boyinaboat Reef. Heidi wanted to check it out because she thought it would be a good spot for a dive. As we climbed up and down the rocks, them and us baking in the sun, I vowed and declared there'd be no way she'd get me all trussed up and lumbering over the mole in heavy, awkward dive gear. I can feel awkward just walking down the street, thanks.
We jumped in the water and swam out to the reef. We'd only been floating along for about ten minutes when I broke down and almost demanded of Heidi that our next dive be here, on this very spot*. She just smiled. Well, I can never really enjoy a thing unless I create a bit of drama first. And my resolve only wavered slightly as we exited the water, when the swell had picked up and getting a toehold on the rocks was a bit tricky.
Afterwards we had eggs. Nothing beats eggs. Not even scissors.
I could live on just eggs all the time. With maybe some lime to keep the scurvy at bay.
And a ship's biscuit.
*By 'this very spot' I mean Boyinaboat Reef. Not here in my office where I'm composing this blog. While the visibility would be good, when I'm in it conditions can rarely be described as calm.