There’s only one sport that I’m any good at and
that’s scuba diving. In early 1989 I discovered
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| Andi in full gear |
snorkeling finding that it was
bloody hard work and didn’t get me down to what I wanted to see. As luck would
have it, later that year graduate student who was also scuba instructor
enrolled in one of my classes. Scuba diving, he said, was a lot easier than
snorkeling because you had your air with you and you weren’t fighting the
surface waves. That sounded reasonable to me so I embarked on scuba lessons.
While my graduate student was an excellent teacher, I was a horrible student.
The only good things about learning were that he was exceptionally patient and
he didn’t let me drown; I think the latter was because he needed the class I
was teaching to finish his master’s degree. In any case, all of my angst, fear,
and ineptitude vanished the minute I hit the ocean in Cozumel, Mexico. In 1990,
it was a glorious place and I developed an abiding love of scuba diving. This
love has fueled my travel bug, taking me around the world to play in the
oceans; the latest Near-Normal diving adventure was at Bananarama in Roatan, Honduras.
