This afternoon the filming crew took a break and the other divers onboard the Ranger -- writers and support crew -- went out to Manuelita. I don'tt know where to start.
It was late in the afternoon when we left. The sky was dark and the surface of the water breaking in swells and whitecaps. Hussein, who is patient in three languages, talked us through gear set-up and got us into the dingy. Aitor, a diver himself but too generous to put on a mask before every other person has had a chance, drove us to Manuelita across the waves.
We got our BCs on; we pressed masks to faces. We sat on the side of the dingy and flipped backwards, fins up.
There is so much under the water! Too much to know where to look. The bottom was rocky, like a moonscape, cratered, scattered with boulders. Every few feet an otherworldly rock formation rose from the seafloor. There were fish everywhere. Schools of soldierfish (red fish with big black eyes), deep purple surgeonfish edged with gold, trumpetfish -- some bright yellow, others translucent with a scattering of neon blue spots at one end -- hanging in the water. It's impossible to tell which end of a trumpetfish is the front, an effective deterrent for predators and admirers alike, and more than once I found myself seeking eye contact with an indifferent rear. There were lobsters in crevices, anemones among the rocks, pufferfish (some yellow, some black/white and spotted), large elegant angelfish, butteflyfish... so very many fish. An occasional parrotfish would dart by, looking paranoid; with its heavy head the parrotfish doesn't seem to me made for rapid movement. And then there were groupers, larger fish that didn't move rapidly at all, didn't move at our approach, big fish mottled blue/green or brown/gray. They stared back, turned a superior and cynical eye.