Apparently, I was more than tired last night- I was coming down with a touch of the flu. I slept poorly, waking every hour or so to push the blanket off, pull the blanket on, push the blanket off... Woke up still feeling ill, thinking I might not dive. My nausea and dizziness from last week had come back, and I couldn't shake the chills. Dragging myself out of bed with everyone else, I eased into the morning. After mopping the house, I sat on the porch and drank a few gallons of tea.
By the time wave one had returned from their dive, I was over the flu, had studied for and passed the algae exam and felt on top of the world. This quick turn around boded well for the day and I was looking forward to the morning dive.
We managed to get a boat for the day but it was in our sand-filled bay, not Speyside. Still, today is my last day to dive and I wanted to squeeze in a couple more dives before heading home.
I might as well have stayed in bed.
The swell had increased since wave one, the visibility was no more than two meters (six feet), and even the fish slept in. There was nothing to see. At all. After nine minutes I started checking the time. In order to count a dive, standards say it needs to be twenty minutes long. I was planning on ending it at seventeen- with a three minute safety stop, we could log it. I wanted to end it sooner, but I'd already gone through the trouble of suiting up and getting out to the dive site... What was eight more minutes?
Sure time had elapsed, I checked my computer. Twelve minutes. It was the longest three minutes in the history of the clock. Trying to get my mind off the time, I started looking under rocks and between coral for something, anything, to entertain me. I seriously considered calling off the dive out of sheer boredom, but I didn't want to abort and let my buddy down. Thirteen minutes. My computer must be broken. Then, hallelujah, my buddy gave the signal. Happy to get out of the gloom, I ascended to three meters and started my safety stop. I no longer cared about logging the dive, I just wanted to get dry. In addition to being dark and murky, the temperature was dropping and I was shivering.
And then, out of nowhere, a green turtle came trekking by us. I forgot the cold, I forgot the time, and just enjoyed this spectacle of nature swimming only a few feet from me. Suddenly, the dive was entirely worthwhile. We watched until he was no longer in sight, then surfaced to find we'd lasted the twenty minute minimum. But as we climbed into the boat (very ungracefully on my part), we swore to each other we weren't going back in. Ending with a turtle dive is always a good way to leave off. The other dive pair surfaced just after us, complaining of the same conditions. We didn't tell them about the turtle. That would have just been mean. 
Getting back to shore was tricky. The waves had picked up while we were out and the surf was intimidating. The only way I could get back on dry land was with the help of another volunteer. He had to grab me by the tank and haul me upright while I fought through the waves. In retrospect it's embarrassing, but at the time I was too cold and tired to care.
Two hours later, while dive two was being called, I finally warmed up. Half an hour after (they only managed to stay down for eight minutes), I watched divers struggling through those same waves to get back ashore. Perspective is a funny thing- from the sea, those waves are frightening. From the safety of shore, I was thoroughly entertained watching my fellow volunteers being tossed around and slammed into the beach. Sick, but true.
The rest of the day was spent nursing minor injuries and planning tomorrow's Community Fun Day. I finished packing and lounged around, enjoying my last day with my housemates. It feels odd to be going home, but I'm ready. The diving today has sealed it- I won't be missing a thing.

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