Oh my god, is today really my last day?

I had made arrangements to meet Vincent even earlier than usual, and at just past 7 a.m. we were the only ones on the ocean. He brought a local spear-fishing friend who really knew what he was doing, and together we jumped in the ocean.

On almost every trip, I've suffered a little injury, and this time I had gone the whole without any issues until a little fish caught me with his fin and punctured a little hole in my finger.

I good see the blood oozing out under water, but there was no way I was getting out. I love it down there so much that nothing like this was going to stop me -- though of course there is that sinking feeling in the back of your head about JAWS.

I had gone to great pains to prepare for this trip, including a packing list that I studied for days before getting on a plate, but the one thing I had forgot was bandaids. I had to go to three places to find one on the way back, as blood dripped onto the handle bars of my scooter, but I managed. It was kind of fun walking into stores bleeding -- the one time no one asked me for anything.