I awoke bright and early, started breakfast, and gently brought the others to consciousness with tunes from Jimmy Buffet. You know easy listening beach style. If they didnt come alive within fifteen minutes I planned to switch to Rocking Dopsie and the Zydeco Twisters.
I heard a tapping on the front door and found Dennis in his underwear beaten and bloody. The side of his face was swollen and bruised and a nasty gash crossed his shoulder amidst numerous abrasions on his hands, arms, and knees. I dont know for sure but I think I was mugged. He said as he stumbled to the patio and sat down hard. Almost overwhelmed by the stench of stale alcohol and dried blood, I gave him a breath mint and went to work with a thorough assessment of his condition. Aside from the gash on his shoulder all could be taken care of with a little salve and some gauze. I broke the news gently, The shoulder is going to need stitches dude. A cup of hot coffee later we were waiting for the Lidocaine to take effect and Dennis sat staring across the open field. He said, almost in a whisper, Tom, its coming back to me now. Not wanting to rush him I began pulling the wound together and tacking it closed with widely spaced sutures. He continued, Do you see that building being constructed over there. I think I went there instead of coming here. I think I climbed to the third floor and undressed. I think I had to go to the bathroom and fell down the stairs. Are you sure? I asked. My confidence is high. Dennis moaned.
Workers were already arriving at the new building so we knew time was of the essence. We left someone watching Dennis and headed for the building. Surely enough, beginning on the second floor was the blood trail. On the third floor we found his clothes folded and neatly stacked. Under suspicious glances from the construction workers we gathered his things. I whispered Lo siento señores and sheepishly retreated. I so badly hoped that the local Guardia Civil didnt get wind of all this. I handed Dennis his clothes and hesitated to tell him that his diving was over for the week. Between the soreness of his muscles, pain from the abrasions, and his now monstrous hangover I dont think he minded; he was too happy to get his wallet back intact.
The shenanigans of the morning caused me to miss the first boat. I was a little aggravated but learned that the afternoon boat was going to a spot that I had longed to see for years. La ma del Pare Etern was the home of a bronze dolphin in the entrance to a cavern. I had seen many pictures and wanted desperately to see the little fellow in person. I waited on the pier as the morning boat came in and the divers gathered their stuff and disembarked. The girl from last night bumped my shoulder and whispered, take care of my shirt as she walked past. It felt nice inside that she would think me worthy of a flirt.
The afternoon boat wasnt as crowded. There was just the British captain, his Spanish crew, two Frenchmen, a trio of Germans, a rotund Austrian, and I. Off we went imagining the Captains name was Jason instead of Peter and that we were Argonauts in search of an Odyssey. Excitement welled inside me as we neared the Isles Medes. Cries of the seabirds reminded me of Sirens, calling me forward. I had studied maps of the site and knew that we would anchor on the leeward side where the statue resides. I also knew that the end of the island contained numerous swim-through caverns where the sunlight filtered from the surface and danced among the silversides. I wanted to save all that for last.
First on my agenda was a cave that went all the way through to the windward side. A diver could begin by negotiating the cave, exploring the giant fans and soft corals on the other side and return through the cavern to finally see the dolphin. I found several mermaid purses clinging to the gorgonians and when I shined my light through them I could see the skate embryo wiggling around inside. One of the crew grabbed my arm and excitedly pointed to a grouper that must have weighed two hundred pounds. An octopus slithered across the rocks changing his color to match the background. A conger eel poked his head from a hole, his gaping mouth filled with menacing teeth. I was about to think that it couldnt get better when the cavern came into sight. Rays of azure sunlight streamed from the surface bathing the schools of baitfish with silvery flashes. The rays danced as though choreographed. Later I thought, You know they were, by the creator of all dance masters. Gosh, what a show!
I swam through and the blue glow from the other opening came into view. As the baitfish parted I saw him. The magic dolphin, all covered with encrusting marine stuff but beautiful indeed. I was afraid to touch him lest I mar his magnificence. I lay on my stomach for a long while, just admiring this static creature that I had so long yearned to see. Finally the Austrian pulled me from my trance. He wrote on his slate, If you want a ride back you better come on!
Geraldo, the crewmember, met me at the ladder with a bottle of wine. He was so excited about seeing the grouper and had been taking a ribbing from the others. He needed me to verify his story and that I did. The Germans still didnt believe us so I pointed to my Nikonos and proudly boasted, The proof lies within. Geraldo and I sat on the bow and chatted as we finished the wine. He told me of his favorite Tasca, where cold beer and snacks awaited. I asked him to join me and didnt have to twist his arm.
The Tasca faced the sea and the setting sun. The building and a stand of trees blocked the wind and I literally basked in the warm sunlight. A caña was a small glass of beer while a caña grande was about a liter. I ordered my first caña grande and some calamares. The ice-cold beer came in a frosted glass and the calamares were hot and crisp.
The events of the day must have influenced my daydream because I was somewhere hot with palm trees and I was gliding across a colorful reef holding onto the dorsal fin of a dolphin. A familiar voice somewhere in the distance brought me back to reality. May we share your table? asked the girl who wanted my shirt. I said sure and before I knew it she was eating my calamares. Geraldo whispered, You know these chicas? I answered, Sort of, one of them wants my clothes. Madre del Dios, usted mejora la toma la quién desea sus ropas!. Geraldo blurted out. I told him politely, I will thanks.
I watched her for a few minutes and finally asked, I hate to be rude but do you have a name? She giggled and said, Yep. I said, Im Tom but everyone calls me Tommy. She said, I know. We talked for a few minutes more. She told me what she had seen in the morning and I relived the sensations I felt when I first spotted the bronze dolphin. Finally she laughed and said By the way, my name is Christine but everyone calls me Chris.
The four of us ended up Tasca hopping the night away, going from one snack shop (Tasca) to another having a glass of wine or a small El Aguila beer affectionately known as a Botajin at each stop. We shared small plates of steamed shrimp, mussels, green and black olives, stuffed mushrooms, and at one place slivers of Iberico Ham.
Chris hadnt expected to stay out past dark so she wasnt dressed for the night air. I finally gave in and let her wear my Mantas Staff sweatshirt. Caught up in the magic of the moment we didnt realize how late it was until the town clock chimed midnight. We both said, Oh gosh, the boat leaves in 8 hours. As we walked back to the hotel I asked, How do I get my sweatshirt back? Chris smiled and said matter of factly, I guess you have to come to my room and get it.
I looked up at the stars and tried to appear nonchalant on the outside as I said to myself, Yes! Another day another adventure, life is good.
I heard a tapping on the front door and found Dennis in his underwear beaten and bloody. The side of his face was swollen and bruised and a nasty gash crossed his shoulder amidst numerous abrasions on his hands, arms, and knees. I dont know for sure but I think I was mugged. He said as he stumbled to the patio and sat down hard. Almost overwhelmed by the stench of stale alcohol and dried blood, I gave him a breath mint and went to work with a thorough assessment of his condition. Aside from the gash on his shoulder all could be taken care of with a little salve and some gauze. I broke the news gently, The shoulder is going to need stitches dude. A cup of hot coffee later we were waiting for the Lidocaine to take effect and Dennis sat staring across the open field. He said, almost in a whisper, Tom, its coming back to me now. Not wanting to rush him I began pulling the wound together and tacking it closed with widely spaced sutures. He continued, Do you see that building being constructed over there. I think I went there instead of coming here. I think I climbed to the third floor and undressed. I think I had to go to the bathroom and fell down the stairs. Are you sure? I asked. My confidence is high. Dennis moaned.
Workers were already arriving at the new building so we knew time was of the essence. We left someone watching Dennis and headed for the building. Surely enough, beginning on the second floor was the blood trail. On the third floor we found his clothes folded and neatly stacked. Under suspicious glances from the construction workers we gathered his things. I whispered Lo siento señores and sheepishly retreated. I so badly hoped that the local Guardia Civil didnt get wind of all this. I handed Dennis his clothes and hesitated to tell him that his diving was over for the week. Between the soreness of his muscles, pain from the abrasions, and his now monstrous hangover I dont think he minded; he was too happy to get his wallet back intact.
The shenanigans of the morning caused me to miss the first boat. I was a little aggravated but learned that the afternoon boat was going to a spot that I had longed to see for years. La ma del Pare Etern was the home of a bronze dolphin in the entrance to a cavern. I had seen many pictures and wanted desperately to see the little fellow in person. I waited on the pier as the morning boat came in and the divers gathered their stuff and disembarked. The girl from last night bumped my shoulder and whispered, take care of my shirt as she walked past. It felt nice inside that she would think me worthy of a flirt.
The afternoon boat wasnt as crowded. There was just the British captain, his Spanish crew, two Frenchmen, a trio of Germans, a rotund Austrian, and I. Off we went imagining the Captains name was Jason instead of Peter and that we were Argonauts in search of an Odyssey. Excitement welled inside me as we neared the Isles Medes. Cries of the seabirds reminded me of Sirens, calling me forward. I had studied maps of the site and knew that we would anchor on the leeward side where the statue resides. I also knew that the end of the island contained numerous swim-through caverns where the sunlight filtered from the surface and danced among the silversides. I wanted to save all that for last.
First on my agenda was a cave that went all the way through to the windward side. A diver could begin by negotiating the cave, exploring the giant fans and soft corals on the other side and return through the cavern to finally see the dolphin. I found several mermaid purses clinging to the gorgonians and when I shined my light through them I could see the skate embryo wiggling around inside. One of the crew grabbed my arm and excitedly pointed to a grouper that must have weighed two hundred pounds. An octopus slithered across the rocks changing his color to match the background. A conger eel poked his head from a hole, his gaping mouth filled with menacing teeth. I was about to think that it couldnt get better when the cavern came into sight. Rays of azure sunlight streamed from the surface bathing the schools of baitfish with silvery flashes. The rays danced as though choreographed. Later I thought, You know they were, by the creator of all dance masters. Gosh, what a show!
I swam through and the blue glow from the other opening came into view. As the baitfish parted I saw him. The magic dolphin, all covered with encrusting marine stuff but beautiful indeed. I was afraid to touch him lest I mar his magnificence. I lay on my stomach for a long while, just admiring this static creature that I had so long yearned to see. Finally the Austrian pulled me from my trance. He wrote on his slate, If you want a ride back you better come on!
Geraldo, the crewmember, met me at the ladder with a bottle of wine. He was so excited about seeing the grouper and had been taking a ribbing from the others. He needed me to verify his story and that I did. The Germans still didnt believe us so I pointed to my Nikonos and proudly boasted, The proof lies within. Geraldo and I sat on the bow and chatted as we finished the wine. He told me of his favorite Tasca, where cold beer and snacks awaited. I asked him to join me and didnt have to twist his arm.
The Tasca faced the sea and the setting sun. The building and a stand of trees blocked the wind and I literally basked in the warm sunlight. A caña was a small glass of beer while a caña grande was about a liter. I ordered my first caña grande and some calamares. The ice-cold beer came in a frosted glass and the calamares were hot and crisp.
The events of the day must have influenced my daydream because I was somewhere hot with palm trees and I was gliding across a colorful reef holding onto the dorsal fin of a dolphin. A familiar voice somewhere in the distance brought me back to reality. May we share your table? asked the girl who wanted my shirt. I said sure and before I knew it she was eating my calamares. Geraldo whispered, You know these chicas? I answered, Sort of, one of them wants my clothes. Madre del Dios, usted mejora la toma la quién desea sus ropas!. Geraldo blurted out. I told him politely, I will thanks.
I watched her for a few minutes and finally asked, I hate to be rude but do you have a name? She giggled and said, Yep. I said, Im Tom but everyone calls me Tommy. She said, I know. We talked for a few minutes more. She told me what she had seen in the morning and I relived the sensations I felt when I first spotted the bronze dolphin. Finally she laughed and said By the way, my name is Christine but everyone calls me Chris.
The four of us ended up Tasca hopping the night away, going from one snack shop (Tasca) to another having a glass of wine or a small El Aguila beer affectionately known as a Botajin at each stop. We shared small plates of steamed shrimp, mussels, green and black olives, stuffed mushrooms, and at one place slivers of Iberico Ham.
Chris hadnt expected to stay out past dark so she wasnt dressed for the night air. I finally gave in and let her wear my Mantas Staff sweatshirt. Caught up in the magic of the moment we didnt realize how late it was until the town clock chimed midnight. We both said, Oh gosh, the boat leaves in 8 hours. As we walked back to the hotel I asked, How do I get my sweatshirt back? Chris smiled and said matter of factly, I guess you have to come to my room and get it.
I looked up at the stars and tried to appear nonchalant on the outside as I said to myself, Yes! Another day another adventure, life is good.
