You’ve been adopted by a fish
When you dive, you see fish…
Ask a diver what their favourite marine animal is and you'll usually get a sensible answer.
Mantas.
Whale sharks.
Hammerheads.
Something suitably majestic.
That's if you ask before the dive.
Underwater, however, something different happens.
Because every diver has their fish.
Not necessarily the rarest.
Not the biggest.
Just the one that completely overrides rational thought.
The turtle appears.
Someone points with the urgency normally reserved for emergencies.
It doesn't matter whether it's Turtle Number 1 or Turtle Number 47.
The reaction is identical.
Elsewhere, six divers are hovering perfectly motionless around a nudibranch the size of a fingernail.
A manta swims past unnoticed.
Priorities are clearly different.
Spend enough time diving and you realise you can almost sort people into categories.
Not by certification.
Not by experience.
By the fish that makes them forget everything else.
The Tiny Stuff People
Can spot something the size of a grain of rice from three metres away.
Will absolutely remind everyone afterwards.
The Octopus Observers
Disappear for twenty minutes.
Return emotionally recharged.
The Lionfish Admirers
Know they probably shouldn't be this impressed.
Still stop every single time.
Always "just checking" under another ledge.
The "Anything Big" People
Doesn't care what it is.
If it's bigger than them, they're interested.
The Ray People
Spends the first half of every dive looking into the blue.
Claims it's "just in case."
One day will pay off.
The Batfish Believers
Insists they're underrated.
Is completely correct.
The Butterflyfish People
Claims not to have a favourite fish.
Secretly just appreciates good colour coordination.
The Parrotfish People
A short-lived, but intense dopamine hit.
Probably watched Pirates of the Caribbean one too many times.
The Coral People
Barely notice the fish.
Quite happy staring at the reef.
Floats noticeably higher than everyone else.
The Emperor Enthusiasts
Will confidently explain why emperors are underrated.
Has clearly been waiting for someone to ask.
Nobody did.
Somewhere along the way, one quietly adopts us.
Maybe because of a single dive.
Maybe because of one memorable encounter.
Maybe for no reason at all.
From that point on, every dive follows exactly the same pattern.
"Nice reef."
"Good visibility."
"...LOOK!"