One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Huge Fish; Hot Mess Goes Diving…Again…

In a secret attempt to have more conversation topics in the unlikely event I were to run into my Gorgeous Dive Instructor a third time and give him a second opportunity to propose to me.

Did you know it is hypothesized that Dr. Suess books having a theological foundation? Me neither. And yet that has nothing to do with anything except I will yet again complain about Eat, Pray, Love. Elizabeth for the love of God, and all of your readers, why the Hell didn’t you stay in Italy where we could all have gained 20 pounds (15 of which you “needed” to gain) vicariously through you. I will push onward but the Ashram in India just isn’t doing it for me – don’t worry I am sure Julia Roberts will sex up the part and they will manipulate enough of the story…like your self imposed celibacy…to make it a worthwhile film to see. In the meantime Bram Stoker’s Dracula was a masterpiece and while it took me a full month to read (during which time I did have to take breaks) it really is worthwhile. Just don’t expect an outdated Twighlight ladies because Bram wasn’t targeting sexually frustrated women of all ages when he wrote the thing.

Sooo I went diving…again and guess what! despite my apparent motives I think I have the diving bug. Yongala is different from the Prodive boat, see above photo for an example. 30 minutes out to the dive site, it was like being on a speed boat in rough water, thrilling and also a little bit unnerving knowing that for only my tenth dive I had to go backwards out of the boat James Bond style into the swelling waters. Luckily my dive instructor and guide; a red headed, freckle faced, 125 pound look alike of Johnny Depp with a handle bar mustache (believe me he was) did a great job of making me feel comfortable in the water. He took me down to do my 30 metres (90 feet). The slew of nasal sprays and other over the counters I used did the trick so getting to the depth was no problemo.

My roommates at the dive “hostel” - better described as a house with a dive shop in the garage and bunk beds in every room upstairs - were (2) American couples who have dived all over the world and if this dive didn’t inspire me to dive more they certainly did. Did I mention they were in their late 50’s sleeping in bunk-beds (I can assure you they are staying at 5 star accommodations everywhere else) nonetheless they had a pretty good time. This post is getting a little long and boring but anyway I don’t have much to compare the dive to but there was a Grouper the size of a Mini Cooper (Note to mom, they don’t hurt people) a sea snake (apparently poisonous and killer if they get your ear) and turtles galore – possibly my favorite, if cats lower blood pressure I think sea turtles probably do too – these treasures were amidst the thousands of small fish that are swimming around you all the time going on about their life as if you aren’t there. As for the actual shipwreck, you can hardly tell it is one except for the odd shape the coral takes in certain places.

Come to think of it my Dive instructor looks like he could easily have fathered Michael Anthony Hall. I wonder if M.A.H. is capable of growing facial hair though? Hmmmm questionable…I’ll leave you to ponder that and also what I looked like in a wetsuit, snorkel mask and wait for it….a wetsuit hood.

If that doesn’t make you laugh I am at a loss…except for what I wasn’t going to tell you which is that my hood kept getting a big air bubble at the top, approximately the size of a second more oblong head. Yup no one else seemed to have the bubble just me. And even 10 metres down I could hear M.A.H’s dad laughing and pointing at me. What can I say except I don’t think there is any photographic evidence of this. Thank God.