Well, I felt the same after a week in Belize, on the Belize Aggressor III...
... though, I hasten to add, it wasn't anything to do with the charming people of Belize, or the top-notch crew of a fine dive boat.
There was always a risk, as I had found this trip at the last minute, after a Shearwater cruise collapsed in diver apathy (to, I believe, Jim Abernethy's own frustration). It wasn't helped by a Continental flight, delayed by being unable to start one engine and renowned for the stingiest approach to in-flight catering of any transatlantic carrier (not to mention the Chief Executive's smarmy introduction to the safety video...), though at least our pilot didn't pass away in the mid-Atlantic. It wasn't much helped by a night in Houston, either.
Still, camera, bags and diver ended up on the quay of Belize City's Radisson Hotel, ready to board the Belize Aggressor III, looking quite homely next to the Wave Dancer. My blocked nose and sore throat were a bit worrying, but what use is a medical degree, if you can't sort that? So, a week of pseudephedrine, paracetamol and Vitamin C, salt in the soft drinks and no alcohol, 26 dives and, later, the climb up an uncovered Mayan ruin. After all, I couldn't let Old England down in face of my American dive buddies...
We ran out pretty quickly to Turneffe, and then to Lighthouse Reef, with the delights of the long wall. I was pretty impressed by the fish life, and pretty well blown away by three large reef sharks that investigated us curiously for the whole of one dive. I spent three dives trying to shoot the classic tube sponge/sunburst shot that, for me, sums up Caribbean diving, and three more shooting silhouettes of the Aggressor, surrounded by horse-eye jacks, Caribbean chubb and tarpon.
So, despite sticky ears, a sore throat, and a hacking cough that was going to make the other passengers irritated on the way home, a good week's diving. Then both of my hard drives died. I lost all of my images, except for the fish on a deep, sandy last dive that were still in the camera. I succumbed to Captain Marc's wine, and a Marguerita
And Continental couldn't unlatch the jetway at Houston on the way home, until, after an hour, someone rammed its legs with a truck...
I've had two days off work, and been suspected of harbouring Mexican 'flu. I've had a course of antibiotics. And my hard drives are being dismantled to see if the data can be retrieved.
The joys of underwater photography!
Tim
(Kidding - after seeing your shots, I could stand a session learning at the heel of a master, no doubt!)
