I knew it was going to ‘leave a mark’ when I bashed the side of my knee on the metal stairs leading back onto the dive boat.
OUCH (+ f-word) that hurt a lot. The kind of bump that hurts so much you want to cry, except you don’t want to cry on a dive boat where a bunch of middle aged men are standing around.
I’ll ask a stranger (man) on a dive boat to braid my long hair, but no one sees Tank cry.
As if one week of bruised limbs wasn’t enough, I decided to sign up for another boat dive the next week. The result – more bruises. These ones on the ankle.
Scuba diving is a blood sport.
I’ve cut my hand on coral, so bad that it bled. I’ve ripped my cuticles to bits pulling on a thick wetsuit day after day. I’ve dropped a two pound weight on my foot. I’ve fallen on slippery rocks in a drysuit – weighted down by about 64 pounds. But, nothing hurts as much as these deep bruises.
My record for leg bruises is seven at one time. Given my natural clumsiness, it’s a record I except to exceed.