Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
RIGEL
After a couple of days at sea, we anchor in Coron. The excitement in the air is palpable as Pete and I prepare for our first dive of the day.
The sun beats down on the deck, the heat tempered by the salty breeze that whips across the water. Around us, the other divers buzz with anticipation, their voices mingling with the clank and clatter of gear being assembled.
I’ve been looking forward to these dives since I booked this trip. Coron is known for world-class wreck diving, and I’m eager to practice my photography.
Mia’s with me as the divemasters brief us about the various dives we can enjoy at this destination. As they describe the ghostly wrecks we’ll be exploring and the eerie beauty of the sunken ships reclaimed by the sea, a thrill of excitement rushes through me.
Mia’s beside me, and I sense her unease.
“You okay?” I whisper, leaning close.
She nods, but her smile is strained. “The thought of all that water—and the sharks…”
“Are you sure you don’t want to learn how to dive? ”
We’ve been over this a hundred times. She loves swimming—in pools—and is terrified of an ocean “teaming with sharks.”
“Absolutely not.”
“It’s completely safe.” I jab her teasingly with my elbow. “And I’ll be right there with you. I’m telling you, it’s amazing.”
“Not on your life.” She leans back with a grumpy face and crosses her arms.
“You could always stay on the surface and snorkel?” Pete offers an alternative. Only if I stay with Mia, it leaves Pete without a dive partner.
“Maybe next time.” She eyes the pristine aquamarine waters with suspicion. “Are there sharks here?”
“Of course,” Pete answers before I can check him. “Reef sharks, white-tips, nurse sharks. They’re really amazing, and they don’t bother the divers.”
“No way.” Mia practically jumps out of her chair. “And you want me to snorkel? Just float around on the surface like a tasty snark shack?”
“ Snark shack ?” I can’t help but laugh and lean into it with a full-on belly laugh.
“Don’t laugh at me.” Mia does that thing again, crossing her arms, which draws my eye to her cleavage. This takes my roguish mind on a virtual journey that begins at that cleavage and travels south, where I’m eager to explore all the delights Mia has to offer.
“Sorry, but you said it. Not me.”
“Because Pete mentioned swimming with sharks.”
“Luv, the sharks aren’t on deck.” I point to the pristine coral reefs below us. “They’re in the water. You’re perfectly safe up here.”
“You’re horrible.”
“No. I’m determined.”
“Determined?”
“To get you into the water and at least try a bit of snorkeling. It’s perfectly safe, and as Pete says, the sharks aren’t interested in us.”
“Nice try, but I’m going to enjoy all the luxuries of this vessel by myself while the rest of you are underwater being snark shacks .” The fire in her eyes dares me to correct her pronunciation .
I know when to back down, and I don’t go near that with a ten-foot pole. Instead, I try to rationalize with her.
“You’re really missing out.”
“I’m perfectly happy staying out of the shark-infested water.”
I turn toward Pete, but he’s no help. Not with his defeated shrug.
“Fine. We’ve got five dives spread out over the day. During our surface intervals, I’m going to try to convince you to, bare minimum, get your toes wet. This water is not to be missed.”
“I think you and Pete should enjoy your dives while I enjoy the deck and the sun.”
Pete sits beside me, his weathered face creased with a broad grin. We’ve become fast friends over the past few days, bonding over our shared love of the ocean and the thrill of exploration. Samantha and Jessica have long since abandoned us, their interest in me waning when it became clear I only had eyes for Mia.
They’re cordial enough to Pete, but their snubs toward Mia are over the top.
Downright derogatory, if I’m being honest.
Fortunately, Mia doesn’t seem to care, her focus solely on the adventures ahead. With over thirty guests on board, it’s easy enough to keep a polite distance.
“Have you dived here before?” I ask, shifting in my seat to face Pete. The rough texture of the deck bites into my palms as I lean back, the anticipation building in my veins.
We’ve teamed up as dive buddies for the duration. I have more dives than he has, hundreds more, but those were all mission dives. Pete’s a pro when it comes to diving for fun.
“A couple of times.” Pete nods, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “It’s going to be amazing.” He points to my camera. “The colors, the life… It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen. Should make for spectacular photography.”
A thrill runs through me. I’ve done hundreds of dives, maybe thousands, but those were all mission-oriented. Cold, calculated, with a singular focus.
But this—this is diving for the sheer joy of it, for the wonder and the beauty of the underwater world .
As Pete chatters on about the sites we’ll be exploring, I turn my attention to my camera. Unlike my dive gear, which is safely stowed in the individual lockers down by the dive platform, I keep my photography equipment with me at all times.
The camera feels solid and reassuring in my hands as I carefully fit it into its specialized underwater casing. The lubricant I use on the O-rings is greasy but without any sharp chemical smells.
I attach the lights, their weight pulling at the case as I secure them in place. They jut out from the sides like the legs of some strange, mechanical crab, ready to illuminate the secrets of the deep.
Around us, the energy on the deck reaches a fevered pitch as the divers assemble in their groups. The clink and rattle of tanks being hoisted, the hiss of regulators being tested, the snap of wetsuits being donned… It all blends into a symphony of anticipation.
With our dive briefing over, we divers slowly work our way down to the dive platform.
“You sure you don’t want to try snorkeling?” I pull Mia to my side and give her a sloppy kiss.
“Definitely.”
“As you wish.”
This isn’t the best dive spot to introduce a virgin snorkeler to the wonders of the underwater world. We’re at anchor with a forty-foot sandy bottom. Other than fish, it’s too far to really appreciate the coral so far below.
I’ve already checked our other sites, and there are better, shallower, options in our future.
The crew divided us into four groups for our diving. Pete and I are in the third group, and Jessica and Samantha are in the first group, which consists of the least experienced divers. I’m thankful for that.
Diving is rarely a solo expedition, and it’s not uncommon to split divers up according to their experience level. It may be horrible of me to think it, but I’m happy not to babysit Jessica and Samantha.
It means Pete and I can do something a bit more aggressive. We’ve already received permission from the dive staff to venture away from our group.
“Are you ready, buddy?” Pete puts his hand on my shoulder, pushing his mask up onto his forehead.
“More than ready. Let’s do this.” I grin, the excitement bubbling up inside me like a physical force.
Together, we make our way to the dive platform. The ocean stretches out before us, a vast expanse of blue that holds the promise of untold wonders.
Serenity has a slick dive platform at the stern of the boat. Resting a foot or so above the waterline, it spans the full twenty-five-foot width of the boat, which gives us plenty of room to gear up.
As I take my place at the edge of the platform, I catch Mia’s eye. She watches from the upper deck, her hair whipping in the wind, her smile bright and encouraging. Pete and I complete our buddy checks, activate our dive computers, and do one final check before taking a giant stride off the back of the boat.
The sudden drop in temperature sends a shiver down my spine, but it’s a welcome sensation—a sharp contrast to the heat of the sun above. There’s nothing more amazing than the initial plunge when you trade the gravity of land for the weightlessness of water. The water is crystal clear, and visibility extends far into the distance.
Pete and I surface. We exchange a quick ok sign, ensuring that all is well, and then, with a thumbs-down signal, we descend.
As we sink deeper, the water pressure increases, squeezing my wetsuit tighter against my skin. My ears pop as I equalize, the sensation a reminder of the changing environment. The sunlight filtering down from above grows dimmer, the blues of the water deepening and intensifying.
At forty feet, we level off, the bottom stretching out before us like a vast, sandy plain.
But it’s far from barren.
Everywhere I look, life abounds.
Schools of tropical fish flit by, their scales catching the light like tiny prisms. A large grouper eyes us warily from its hiding spot beneath a rocky outcropping, its mottled skin blending perfectly with the surrounding coral.
As we kick forward, propelling ourselves through the water with slow, measured strokes, I’m struck by the utter tranquility of this underwater realm. The only sound is the steady rhythm of my own breathing, the bubbles cascading upward with each exhale.
I’m not interested in the fish, at least not for this dive. We’re doing five dives today: two before lunch, one in the afternoon, a sunset dive, and then a final night dive. I’m waiting for the sunset and night dives to explore the reefs.
Pete and I have a specific destination in mind and head to the wreckage of a WWII plane, a ghostly relic of a bygone era. As we approach, the outline of the aircraft comes into view, its metal skeleton encrusted with coral and teeming with marine life.
I pull out my camera, its weight comforting in my hands. Through the viewfinder, I frame the wreck, adjusting the f-stop to capture the perfect balance of light and shadow. The external lights I’ve attached to the camera housing illuminate the nooks and crannies of the plane’s interior.
As I work, Pete hovers nearby, his presence unobtrusive yet supportive. He’s an ideal dive partner, giving me the space and time I need to fully immerse myself in the art of underwater photography.
I experiment with different angles and settings, moving in close for detailed macro shots and then kicking back to capture the entire wreck in a single, sweeping panorama. The coral’s colors are vivid and striking, with pinks, purples, and oranges that seem to glow against the muted tones of the aging metal.
Time seems to stand still down here, the minutes stretching out into an endless, blissful eternity, but soon, it’s time to head to the surface.
With a final, lingering look at the wreck, I tuck my camera away and give Pete the ok sign. Together, we begin our slow, controlled rise to the surface, pausing at our safety stop to allow the nitrogen in our bodies to off-gas and decrease any chance of the bends.
As we hang there in the blue, tiny bubbles cascading from our regulators, I feel a sense of profound gratitude. For the beauty of this underwater world, for the opportunity to capture it through my lens, and for the companionship of a friend like Pete.
Finally, we break the surface, the warm sun and salty air a welcome sensation after the cool depths. We swim leisurely to the back of the dive platform, where groups 1 and 2 are already waiting out their surface intervals.
Some float lazily on the glass-like water, their laughter and chatter carrying across the gentle swells. Others sit on the edge of the platform, sipping from water bottles handed to them by the attentive staff, their legs dangling in the cool water.
As I haul myself onto the platform, the weight of my gear suddenly much heavier out of the water, I can’t help but grin. My mind is already racing, eager to review the shots I’ve captured and to see if I’ve translated the magic of this underwater realm into digital memory.
But for now, I’m content to sit here in the sun, the taste of salt on my lips and the memory of the deep still vivid in my mind. This, right here, is what diving is all about.
The adventure, the beauty, the camaraderie.
The crew from the Serenity take our BCDs and swap out our tanks for us. It feels weird letting someone mess with my gear. I prefer to swap tanks myself because if anything goes wrong on a dive, I only have myself to blame, but I let the staff do their thing.
Before my next dive, I’ll double and triple-check my gear.
One of them places my camera rig in a dunk tank, which is really just a big tub filled with water. I really want to check the photos I took but decide to leave my camera in the dunk tank until the end of today’s dives.
Each time I break the seal of the outer casing, there’s always a risk of creating a leak. Leaks can occur if the O-rings slip or if tiny hairs get between the O-rings and ruin the seal. Even with meticulous care and inspections, it doesn’t take much to flood a camera housing.
I decide not to risk it.
As I make my way to the upper deck, Mia sits alone at one of the tables, her head bent over a book. The relief that washes over me is palpable, and I quicken my pace, eager to share the details of my dive with her.
But as I approach, there’s unmistakable tension in her shoulders, and the white-knuckled grip she has on a tablet —not a book, but a tablet—says a lot. She’s not reading. She’s staring at the screen, her eyes unfocused, her mind clearly elsewhere.
“Mia?” I ask softly, not wanting to startle her. “Is everything okay?”
She jumps at the sound of my voice, her head snapping up. For a moment, there’s a look of pure terror in her eyes, a haunted expression that sends a chill down my spine, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a shaky smile.
“Hey. How was your dive?” She quickly blacks out the screen of her tablet and tucks it under her legs.
I slide into the seat next to her, my brow furrowed with concern. “It was amazing, but what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“It’s nothing.” She shakes her head, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “I’m just... I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”
I reach out, covering her hand with mine. Despite the heat of the sun, her skin is cold to the touch.
“You know you can talk to me, right? About anything.”
She’s silent for a long moment, her gaze fixed on our joined hands. Her eyes reveal a struggle, fear warring with the desire to confide in me, but when she finally speaks, her words are carefully chosen, divulging nothing.
“I’m just—just dealing with some things. Things I thought I could leave behind, but—but they keep catching up to me.”
My heart aches at the pain in her voice, at the fear that seems to emanate from her in waves. I want to gather her in my arms, to promise her that everything will be alright, but I know that would be a lie.
Because the truth is, I don’t know what Mia’s running from. I don’t know what demons haunt her dreams or what secrets she’s carrying. But I do know one thing .
I wait until she meets my gaze, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
“Whatever you’re facing, whatever you’re afraid of… You’re not alone. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll face it together, okay?”
A single tear escapes to trail down her cheek. I brush it away with my thumb, my touch lingering on the softness of her skin.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but—but I’m glad you’re here.”
I smile, the warmth of it spreading through my chest. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
We sit like that for a long time, hands clasped, the silence between us heavy with unspoken fears and unspoken promises. I feel Mia’s inner turmoil, the weight of the secrets she carries, but I don’t push. She’ll tell me when she’s ready and when she feels safe enough to let me in.
As much as I want to stay with her to offer her the comfort of my presence, I have to join Pete for our second dive. With a gentle squeeze of her hand and a promise to return soon, I make my way back to the dive deck.
The second dive is just as thrilling as the first. The underwater world is a kaleidoscope of colors and life. Pete and I explore a new section of the reef, marveling at the intricate coral formations and the vibrant schools of fish that dart around us.
After our second dive, we break for lunch, taking an extended surface interval before dives three and four. Mia joins us, her smile a little brighter, her laughter a little more genuine. We talk and joke, sharing stories of our adventures and our dreams for the future.
“So, what’s your favorite dive so far?” Mia asks, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
I grin, leaning back in my chair. “Honestly? The fourth dive of the day, the dusk dive.”
Pete nods, a knowing smile on his face. “Ah, yes. When the day shift clocks out and the night shift clocks in.”
“What do you mean?” Mia tilts her head, intrigued .
“During the day, the reef is bustling with activity.” My excitement grows with each word. “Fish are out and about, swimming and feeding, but as the sun sets, they retreat into the safety of the coral, hiding from predators.”
“And that’s when the night creatures emerge,” Pete chimes in, his eyes twinkling. “Shrimp, crabs, worms… All the things that hide during the day come out to play.”
“That sounds intense.” Mia’s eyes widen with wonder, but her face is filled with apprehension.
“It’s magical.” I reach out, taking her hand in mine. “The water is alive with bioluminescence, and the creatures… They’re like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
“I can’t wait to hear all about it.” She smiles, squeezing my hand.
The third and fourth dives are everything I hoped for and more. The reef transforms as the sun dips below the horizon, the vibrant colors of the day giving way to the eerie, ethereal glow of the night.
I lose myself in the wonder of it all, my camera capturing the dance of the nocturnal creatures, the shimmer of the bioluminescent plankton, and the haunting beauty of the moonlit coral.
When I finally surface, my heart is full to bursting, and my mind reels with the incredible sights I’ve seen. I can’t wait to share it all with Mia and see the awe in her eyes as I describe the wonders of the deep.
I find her on the upper deck, her face tilted toward the stars, a soft smile on her lips. She turns as I approach, her eyes lighting up at the sight of me.
“Welcome back,” she murmurs, stepping into my arms. “How was it?”
I grin, pulling her close. “Incredible. Magical. Like nothing I’ve ever seen.”
She laughs softly, her breath warm against my skin. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
I press a kiss to her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her. “I can’t wait to tell you.”
We stay like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the gentle rocking of the boat a soothing lullaby. As I hold her—as I feel the steady beat of her heart against mine—this is exactly where I belong.
I tilt her face up to mine, my fingers tracing the delicate line of her jaw. Her eyes flutter closed, her lips parting slightly in anticipation. I lower my mouth to hers and taste the sweetness of her kiss. Warmth spreads through my chest, a joy that feels like coming home.