Page 26 of Building Courage

“Yeah, we do.” They bumped knuckles.

*

A light breeze kicked across the bow of the cabin cruiser. It carried the smell of salt and a green-fishy smell of kelp. Brynn hooked her flippers with her fingers. Her camera hung at her waist in a protective waterproof casing. She might or might not take pictures, but for this first time, she needed to concentrate on just enjoying the dive and doing everything Tucker had instructed her to do in his pool.

She listened carefully to his instruction as he paused at the stern of the boat where a metal dive platform stretched across the back of the boat.

“To enter the water, we’re going to do the same thing we do at the pool—mask on, regulator running, and flippers on. Then, we’ll release most of the air from our BCD and step off the platform. There are kelp gardens and plenty of fish and other marine life to take pictures of in this area. Visibility is probably between ten to twenty feet, though. Not nearly as clear as the conditions where you’ll dive in Australia. So, I’ve heard.”

“I want to take our picture together to commemorate my first ocean dive, Tucker. Is that okay? I won’t publish it or use it on my podcast. It’s just for me personally.”

He grinned. “Sure. Turn your back to the water so you’ll get the ocean in the shot.”

When he looped his arm around her waist, her heart stuttered. It was just the excitement of the coming dive, she cautioned. She unhooked her camera encased in its watertight casing from her BCD, raised it, and hit the button, taking a picture, then another.

She backed it up so they could look at the pictures together. A blue cabin cruiser was in the water behind them. She momentarily wished she’d waited for the boat to move out of the frame, then shrugged it off. She wasn’t going to put the photo on her podcast. It was purely for her memories. She attached the small strobe she’d purchased, then returned the camera to the anchor on her BCD.

Tucker grasped her hand. “Just keep breathing naturally, stay relaxed, and we’ll look around for some marine life so you can take a few shots.”

“I think you’re more nervous than I am,” she teased.

Tucker smiled. “I’m not nervous at all. I’m confident you’ll do fine. You’re a quick study.”

Grant, the owner of the cabin cruiser, climbed down the ladder from the flybridge and dropped the anchor. “You two ready to rock and roll?” he asked.

“Yeah. We are.”

His skin was tanned and weathered by the sun, his hair peppered with gray. He walked with a slight limp, but it didn’t seem to hold him back. Tucker had told her he was a retired SEAL and ran a charter for fishermen and divers on the side. Grant lifted the railing at the stern of the ship, and they stepped out on the platform. “You’re going to love this experience,” he commented. “I’ll be right here waiting on you when you get back.”

Tucker put on his flippers and raised the hood of his wetsuit. She did the same. He turned her so he could turn her air on, then turned his back to her so she could do the same for him. He put his respirator in his mouth, checked his gauge, and lowered his mask.

Brynn mirrored his actions. The cove’s waves weren’t angry, but with the water rocking the deck, she had to grip the railing as they climbed onto the metal platform. She watched as Tucker released some of the air from his BCD. She did the same. He put his palm against his mask to hold it in place, stepped off the platform, and dropped beneath the surface. Brynn was quick to do the same.

The water was surprisingly clear of sand and debris. Tucker raised a hand, signaling, “Okay.” She gave him the signal back. She kept her breathing slow and even and tried to relax. He stayed by her side as they kicked downward into deeper water. The first fish she saw was an orange-gold garibaldi fish. It swam close to her with a slow grace that thrilled her. She reached out a hand, and it glided past her fingers, giving her a snub.

Tucker pointed out a guitarfish lying on the bottom half-buried in the sand. She remembered her camera and reached to unhook it from her BCD. She turned on the strobe and snapped a quick picture. The kelp floated in the current like a dark green vine-entwined forest. Small schools of fish wove in and out of the greenery. She didn’t know if the small strobe would offer enough lighting for the pictures to turn out, but the experience was enough.

A lobster peaked out from beneath the green leafy water plants in the midst of chunks of coral, and she captured him as well. Tucker pointed out a spotted shark chasing after a small fish, and the sight gave her a quick jolt. It flicked its tail and was gone.

The time passed too quickly, and it seemed only fifteen minutes had passed when Tucker tapped his dive watch, signaling it was time to go.

They surfaced close to the boat. Grant stepped out onto the platform to help them climb aboard the platform.

Her legs felt rubbery, and she was thirstier than she’d ever been, but she was exhilarated by the experience.

“What do you think?” Tucker asked.

“I think I’m hooked.”

He grinned. “I knew you would be.”

Chapter 9

‡

The alarm on his phone went off at zero-six-hundred. So much for the few days off they were supposed to enjoy. A briefing for a mission had been scheduled the night before. Tucker bailed out of bed like he’d been shot out of a cannon and hit the shower.

Forty-five minutes later, he cruised into the last available parking spot in the lot, parked the car, grabbed his cover, and jogged up the sidewalk to the squat, brick classroom building.

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