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I should have known better.

After 16 incredible days on Ko Lanta (possibly the island of my future residence :)) - I took the 2 hour high speed boat over to Ko Phi Phi. I have incredible memories here from last year, the diving is spectacular, and the photography opportunities are better. I think I mainly came for the memories though.

For some strange reason, Ko Phi Phi in March 2006 will always sumarize my Thai island experience of my first year of vagabonding. Despite being touristy and crowded now, the feelings I get here are unreplaceable. I came back looking for that again, but things are always different the second time around - and I am looking with new eyes. I have lost my vagabonding innocence.

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Me working hard in my hammock

While in the course of living life away from a couch, television, or computer, you find yourself with various injuries.

You receive far more than you would have had just running around the civilized world. I have had my share, including almost loosing a finger to a marine bacterial infection in Egypt, scars from brushes with coral, and I think every species of insect in the world has had its fangs in me at some point.

Today, my stupid injury of choice was stepping on a piece of wood and getting a splinter in my foot. Nothing new, considering that I spend about 80% of my time in the islands without wearing even my well-worn flipflops. Splinter is actually an understatement. Everyone likes to exaggerate their wounds, but this damn thing was about the diameter of a toothpick and nearly 1 CM long. Needless to say, it left a hole that would soon become an oasis for all the bacteria I could possibly find on the bottom of my foot.

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I’m not sure what depth I was on the rope when I first began chest spams, but I could no longer see the boat and the surface was just a faint light, teasing me with precious air.

It took all of my focus to keep from opening my mouth and sucking in water to make my stubborn lungs stop screaming for attention.

As you can see by the title of my post, I did not reach my goal of 15 meters today on my very first freedive. It actually turned out not to be an oxygen issue, I was able to hold my breath for well over a minute under the water. It was a different diving culprit that stopped me, my left ear. I have had trouble with that ear in the past, and this time I was not about to equalize it at anything lower than 11 meters. I would push and push until the pain of the pressure on my eardrum was too much to bear, and I knew that something was going to break.

True, God gave me 2 ears, but I don’t think one was intended as a backup to stupidity, so I would abort every effort with just barely enough oxygen left in my blood to convince my brain that life was still worth living.

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