Peering over the side of MV Predator, the water beckons a deep inviting azure blue, every ripple on every wave reflecting the rays of the sun in tiny bursts of light that appear to be synchronized by nature. The visibility is marvelous, the kind that causes you to involuntarily smile ear to ear like a giddy fool. Focusing intently, I concentrate on reaching my gaze all the way down, down, down. The topside sounds fall away, time stands still and now they appear: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven… the dark grey silhouettes move silently in the depths, and the sight of them is simply mesmerizing. I barely notice how deep my breaths have become, or how far I have leaned over portside, the likelihood of a surface face-plant becoming increasingly imminent. I reluctantly pull myself back, ground myself again in reality and realize that almost everyone is ready to dive, everyone except me that is.