The water in Oman was cold, too cold for my liking. It was also green and murky, enough so to make me wonder why so many of the European guests kept coming back for more. I had spent six weeks telling myself it was only for two hours a day. Surely anything is tolerable for two hours a day. Since I was working, bringing my camera along had not been an option, but now the end of my stay in Oman was drawing near and I had no photographic evidence to show for it. Was it worth venturing back into
Sounds like the start of a joke doesn’t it? An octopus, a ghost, and a muffin walk into a bar… I wish I knew the punch line, but sadly I’m a rubbish joke-teller. If you have any ideas, drop a comment. I wish this story were as funny as a joke but it’s actually kind of sad. I wrote down these three individual stories at the end of our day in Lembeh, thinking they were all unrelated, only to realize that they were in fact completely related. You may find them sad. You may find it creepy that the same story
September I was teaching an open water course, the entry level certification that will allow you to dive to 18 meters anywhere in the world. I misjudged the amount of air it would take to return to the mooring line at West Wing with my one student, and so we reached our ascent point with way more air to spare than was necessary. Luckily, a flash of color caught my eye at a nearby bommie, so I led the new diver over to investigate. Our approach scared an octopus down into his hiding spot in the coral. I already knew he
I’d like to be under the sea, in an octopus’s garden in the shade. Here’s a little fun fact about that whimsical song: "I wrote Octopus's Garden in Sardinia. Peter Sellers had lent us his yacht and we went out for the day