The dive of the day was going to be farther up the coast from Shark Island, and we would be reinstalling two moorings. It was mundane work, but quite important. An inch of coral can represent a hundred years of growth, maybe more. If you have a boat, be it a big dive boat like we use, or a small fantail, coming in and dropping anchor, <insert space invaders sounds>, one anchor can swiftly destroy hundreds of years of coral growth, or more.
The briefing continued with a tutorial on knots, something my daydreamer personality never let me master in all my summers at Girl Scout Camp. "Yeah, yeah, the bunny comes up & out of his hole, and down.... What? A floating lunch? A night swim? Stargazing canoe? Count me in!" I was relieved to hear Sabrina, a Dive Master Trainee from Germany, who'd been on most of my training dives & who was joining us for this EMP snorkel/dive, say in her delicious accent, "That fucking little bunny and it's fucking hole." Seriously, I could not have said it, or made it sound, any better than that!
For whatever reason, I guess I was at the right repetition, or really wanted to be successful, but I kind of got it this time. My knots were... acceptable.
We boarded the boat, King Kong II. King Kong III was being utilized by fun divers. The EMP divers (what I have been referring to as Marine Con is actually the Ecological Monitoring Program - will attempt to keep my terminology correct going forward) were a little unhappy we were crammed on the "smaller" boat. And yes, there is a King Kong I. It's tiny. We divided into 4 teams. Tripp, a newbie volunteer but experienced diver, went on Team 1. He was the mule that carried the rope to the bottom with Chad and Steven, an English volunteer (a member of mine & Tripp's generation, & almost Melissa's). They were securing the "anchor" while Teams 2 & 3 snorkeled setting up moorings on the surface. Melissa & I were Team 4 on the boat. I was lacking confidence in my knots still, so our job was easy, dispensing rope, twine, cutting implements, providing "dry" back up. Because there were lulls between these tasks, I did get a bunch of action photos, and if I find wifi that will cooperate, I will try to upload them later. Some photos I took just below the surface. (I have a Canon Powersot D10, waterproof to 10m, recommended to me by the same wonderful person who recommended Koh Tao to me, Erika Nonkin. Two recommendations made on two separate occasions, very far apart. She's a great resource!)
I mention this, because now would be a good time to mention the dive school's mascot. He's about 8, & he has adopted Chad. He comes on most dives with us. Chad speaks fluent Thai, as I've mentioned. Not sure how much English Chad's shadow speaks. But he was having a blast with my camera. We were taking all kinds of shots in the water (it has a floating strap, very little chance of losing it). But it was a strange sensation to be snorkeling along, and feel a tap in my palm, then his little hand grab mine. We locked wrists, and swam, and I turned to confirm that he was ok, as the current was really strong. He may have been a little tired, but I think he was more happy to be connecting with someone, and playing with the camera. Earlier, during knot tying class, he had walked up to Chad & extended a familiar red cell phone at him. Chad looked perplexed. I started laughing. "Melissa, is that your cell phone?!" It was. Chad questioned our friend, and he said he had asked, and Melissa had said it was ok. I think it was a communication/translation issue. He had called his Mom. Melissa did not switch to global service before coming to Thailand. Oopsie! Before the American mindset allows you wander down any paths, theft is rare here. Very, very rare. That is def NOT what was happening. He just wanted to call his Mom, maybe to see if he could go on today's dive.
Once the job was done, all teams were free for a fun dive.
Here is where I experienced my annoying buoyancy issues for the day. By the time the EMP divers were gearing up, after the mooring & knot lecture, the was only 1 shortie left in my size. I wear the shortie for sun protection, not warmth. (Yes, I, Michelle Rediker, said that. I have found an ocean warm enough for me to swim. In fact, at day's end when we come back to our mooring & ferry to the school, the water at the shore feels more like stepping into hot tea than an ocean! Another degree warmer, and the coral will be goners, I've been told.) The only shortie left was 5 mm, and I normally use a 3 mm. The additional 2 mm made it next to impossible for me to sink. I went back to the boat for more weights, even though it would mean more work swimming, faster air consumption & a shorter dive. Even with the additional weight I struggled to descend.
At the bottom, we started looking for Crown of Thorn to bring to the surface to kill, as they overwhelm the resources corals use, choking them out of the area. If you stress Crown of Thorn underwater, they release their sperm & eggs, multiplying the problem. We had not swum far, and, because it was murky I was tailing my team closely to not "get lost." Someone kicked my mask, filling it with water. I cleared my mask, and took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the salt water bath they just had. I looked at my colleagues. They'd gathered in a circle around a large hawksbill sea turtle. It was in a coral valley, eating, looking up at us, not all that curious about us. Rather indifferent, to be honest. Probably thinking, "what odd looking fish. But can't be as tastey as this...."
Me, on the other hand, I was overcome with joy, crying into my mask 21 m underwater! My hands were clasped in front of me, shaking, & in my head I heard a phrase I've heard at work & in visiting UU services and gatherings, "The sacred in me bows to the sacred in you."
After watching our friend eat for a while, we moved on and I watched two of my teammates harvest our Crown of Thorn, and place it in a plastic laundry basket for the trip to the surface. Back in the boat, it was measured and catalogued, and placed in a larger tub with others that had been harvested. Each team retrieves just one.
At some point, Pau, one of the Spanish leaders, handed me a diving sausage reel. Picture a fishing reel, with no rod. It's kept in the pocket of the BCD until you want to ascend. The "sausage" comes off the reel before the twine, and is "hunter orange." You use one of your stages (air sources) to inflate it at depth and release it like a helium balloon, letting the reel spin on your fingers, so the sausage is attached to you by twine. It shoots up, alerting boats to avoid surfacing divers. The reel Pau handed me had starfish quills stuck in the twine in knots. He asked me if I could remove it, without touching the starfish, because I would get stung if I did. "I am quite skilled at untying knots. Ask anyone at home. This adds a unique, exceptional challenge!" Sabrina assisted me, like an OR nurse, handing me BBQ tongs that serve some EMP dive purpose, and the coral needling needles, as needed. Untying knots... Still gifted. No stings. If only the "fucking little bunny" were that easy!
Just before we were to leave, someone noticed one of the turtles (other teams saw TWO turtles, but I am so incredibly thankful to have seen just one) had surfaced. It was as though it came to wave goodbye (or to see where those giant freaky-looking fish went). My little friend and I were playing with the camera again, and he took off like a little squirrel, across the crowded boat, over all the repacked diving gear, to the bow. Wouldn't you know it, he got the shot! :)
He napped on the way back, and again on the fantail to shore. When the boat was unloaded and I was going to walk to the beach, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and looked up. He put his arms in the air, and I carried the sleepyhead to shore, his head on my shoulder.
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