I just got offline from talking with some good old friends from Utila. After graduation from BYU I lived on a very small backpacker-hub island in Honduras. For three months, all I did was wake up early, dive, eat baleadas, dive, and meet people from all over the world. I miss the sun, my braided hair that turned almost blonde, my strong shoulder muscles from carrying tanks, and no phone, no car, loud rap and polka music blasting from shacks ("na na na Gasolina-a-a")and just friends and strangers for fun and companionship.
As much as I like what I am doing, sometimes I wish I could be a dive bum, living the dream. The taste I had was just enough to make me miss it sometimes. Even though I am a dive instructor, it is hard to listen to my friends who are actually traveling to exotic places, diving along the way, teaching others to enjoy the ocean. Iowa winters don't help.
It has been almost 2 years since I have been beneath the ocean. I am a long way off from my 125 dives in the Bay Islands. I wonder if I even remember how to do it anymore?