Cheito walked past
the careened yolas, the Canadian tourists and the noisy shops to where the
rocky cliffs arose from the warm sand at the northern end of the beach. He sat
down at the water's edge and put on his US Divers Jr. Aquanaut mask, snorkel
and fins. The surf was calm and the water so clear he could see the sandy
bottom all the way to the reef at the base of cliff and to the edge of the
steep drop off fifty yards out. He pushed off and glided over the sand where
spiny sea urchins guarded the edge of the reef. He took in the stag horn coral,
the brain coral, the basket sponges, and the sea fans that decorated rocky
bottom. Here and there amidst the coral and sponges, he saw angel fish,
sergeant majors, squirrel fish, parrot fish, wrasses, Bermuda chub, grunts and
pink snapper. He swam north, curving around and parallel to the cliff, until he
could only see the end of the t-shaped pier that jutted out from the middle of
the beach. He then turned out towards the west, slowly swimming on the surface,
occasionally diving under water to inspect a coral or a fish, until the water
was too deep for him to easily reach the bottom. He turned towards the pier,
and kicked along until the bottom again turned from reef to sand. He curved
back towards the beach, his mouth parched by the salty water and hungry for a
snack or two. As he swam towards the beach, he saw, crossing his path, a small
almost invisible shape gliding a couple of feet over the sandy bottom. He
turned to follow it, carefully matching its speed and keeping his distance so
as not to scare it. He was able to do so, until the cuttlefish, alarmed by his
presence, flitted quickly away, disappearing into the deep blue gloom at the
edge of his vision.
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