The vast, clear waters seemed lifeless, there were no amiable waves; there were not even small ripples. The ever present fish had decided to seek safe haven in the ocean's limitless shelters. I felt alone, secluded and dejected. I gently closed my eyes: Where was it? Would she be there? Was I late? These questions overwhelmed me. I quickly opened my eyes.
In the distance stood a very small and trivial hut, I could barely make out any significant detail, however I knew it was where I needed to be. I started walking, with a new found energy, towards it ignoring the surroundings. The hot and heavy sand baked my bare feet subsequently causing me great pain. The humid and muggy air caused my eyes to water as I focused all my attention on the hut.
As I got closer to the hut I could make out its finer details; it seemed a battered old construction with little in terms of modern architecture. The substandard paint that covered its cheap bricks was peeling at the far edges. The decayed wooden panels had lost their pristine newness long ago and had now become antiques that belonged in a museum of a desolate town. The ocean's rage was reflected in its rotting foundations. The hut had seen it all over the decades.
She was already there and I was late. On viewing the fetid diving suits I was shocked. The suit was muddy and grimy. Its surface was no-longer new; it was instead coated in a thick layer of mire that had partially dried making the suit rigid. Reluctantly I put it on. Its tough fabric caused my skin to itch frantically. I ignored all of this as much as I could by focusing my thoughts elsewhere.
For what seemed like an eternity I had played with the thought of being deep underwater: Would I feel crushed under the weight of the ocean? Would I run out of oxygen and suffer an excruciating death? I had my questions and I was soon going to find out the answers to them.
The old engine roared deafeningly behind us as we travelled out to sea. I could feel its uneven vibrations running through me, adding to the nervousness I was keeping concealed inside. The beach was a distant memory and the heat no longer seemed to exist. I looked over at my diving partner. I could tell from the look in her eyes that she was as anxious as I was.
We stopped in the middle of a vast ocean, the coast was no longer visible; we were alone. The suns powerful reflection dazzled all around us. We put on our goggles and set up our tanks. As soon as we had done this we positioned ourselves on the edge of the boat. I closed my eyes, ready, and dropped into the blue world beneath.
It was like going to sleep and waking up in a surreal dream. It can only be described as illusory. I felt completely different; my whole body felt tranquil, sharing a unity with the ocean. I followed her deeper and deeper into the ocean's depths; every thing I saw was new to me. I saw a shoal of sapphire coloured fish swimming by swiftly beneath me. Their presence created a gap in my mind; I wanted to find out more about the ocean and its colourful inhabitants.
After several more minutes of diving down we reached the bed. It was littered with coral. A diver will never find two corals exactly alike. It is in this mysterious and irregular aura which makes coral of significant beauty. It was very difficult to examine what was amongst the coral as light was partially absent there. The sand on the bed was in a wave-like pattern. Around me there were various fish swimming around almost purposefully, fish were appearing and disappearing every few seconds. There appeared to be small dwellings where groups of fish congregated amongst themselves. It seemed as if the fish had their own society, distant from the human world.
I felt a gentle palm rest on my shoulder. She was pointing apologetically to the surface. It was clear that neither of us wanted to leave. We rose much quicker than we had descended; the oceans upward thrust almost throwing us out of its territory. As we approached the surface, I felt as if I had got to known the ocean and appreciate its hidden wonders. We surfaced and climbed onto the boat. I felt sad; as if I had left a part of me behind.