A scuba trip not to be envied.
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Hank was up for it, or as up as he could be for a guy who doesn’t really like the water. We headed up the gangplank onto the three-masted schooner, ready to set sail for Molokini, a crescent shaped crater that stood above the ocean a few miles off the coast of Maui. We had borrowed fins and snorkels from our kids and set out feeling adventuresome. The weather that day was far from perfect. It was gray and blustery, the ocean choppy at best. It was the day we had been given the tickets for, and we didn’t want to waste them. Weather changes fast there, and the chance to go snorkeling in the tranquil center of the volcano ought to be worth the trip out there. Mostly though, Hank knew I was counting on going. We milled about on the boat, looking out one side and then the other when dolphins were spotted, or when a whale obligingly breached the surface and shook his fluke in our direction. As the crew began handing out sandwiches from a large wicker basket, I realized I’d lost sight of Hank. Making my way to the stern, I reached him in time to hear him refuse the lunch. “Might just as well throw it overboard right now and save a step,” he said, looking green. When we reached the crater and anchored, Hank was one of the first off the ship. He figured anything would be better than rocking back and forth. He took his boogie board and headed away from the bunch, hoping for invisibility. Unfortunately even the gentle swells were too much for his already aggravated inner ears. He was miserable the whole time. The only thing he got out of it was the video and the t-shirt. |