View from the Dive Center balcony. Beautiful waves... but hard for boat launches and diving!
Turns out I was fine. This decision was made at about 9:00am.
Several hours earlier, however, as I leaned over the balcony in a lineup of seven brow-furrowed, defiantly complacent divers staring out to the choppy, gray Indian Ocean, that fact didn’t seem so certain.
Moments earlier, I had abruptly awoke, ripped my board shorts and bathing suit out of my ReSource bag, and scurried barefoot to the Dive Center like a little kid late for the first day of school.
Left, right, left, (wobble) right… My body felt the lack of the previous nights’ sleep as it creaked in to motion, and my feet pounding the sand became cadence for the morning’s mantra: Oh. Please. Oh. Please. Oh. Please.
If I’d known what ocean conditions to “will” into being, I would have. But, having dove just four times in a lake with no current, no visibility and no surf, I didn’t really know what to ask the Ocean Gods for. Just a chance to dive.
Ponta Malongane, Mozambique
“You’re nervous about diving,” he said. Caine’s voice cut through the still, humid darkness of the tent in a matter-of-fact, but gentle way.
A surrendering exhale escaped my lungs before I could catch it. I could feel my cheeks blushing.
“Yup,” was the profound response that left my mouth, a single word that didn’t even begin to touch all the questions running around in my head… How can you be that inside my head?, What if I am a complete disaster at diving? and How did you even know I was up? You were snoring!
It’s my third night in Mozambique, in the tiny town of Ponta Malongane – a stretch of beautiful beach with the occasional thatched roof dwelling that stretches for about 5 kilometer along the Indian Ocean, just north of the South African border. I’ve come to meet my friend, Caine, in this gem of the African continent for three weeks to dive and explore. Except, it’s been raining since I got here. With gale-force winds. And surf.