268 I N A G U A 



the ocean side the water was dark blue, of the deep shade 

 that women use for blueing and is born of great depth and 

 darkness beneath. Down, down, the bottom dipped— two thou- 

 sand fathoms the chart read— down to the blackness of ever- 

 lasting night. From out of the ocean came great swelling 

 waves propelled by the trades that swept steadily from the 

 east. Suddenly these mounted high in the air and dissolved 

 in thunderous fury on the jagged edge of the coral. On the 

 inside the water was calm and green, emerald of the most 

 intense hue, reflecting sunlight and smooth sand in liquid 

 vividness. This blended into lighter greens and the pure white 

 of an undisturbed tropical beach. Behind, etched in paler 

 green against the sky stood a curving line of cocoanut palms 

 swaying in the wind. The upper reef was a scene of pristine 

 beauty— but it was as nothing to that which lay beneath. 



The captain and owner of the sailboat, an inky black 

 Inaguan, was considerably upset by my intentions. 



"Boss mon," he pleaded with me in his funny island dialect, 

 "boss mon, I wouldn't go down dere foh anyting— dey's 

 shark and dey's barracuda down dere as big as dis boat." 



With his hand he indicated the blue water beneath our 

 anchorage. I grinned, looked at the length of the sailboat- 

 it was at least twenty-five feet long— and scoffed. 



"O.K., boss, it's yo hide, but I wouldn't go down dere foh 

 a milHon shillins." 



But I had returned to Inagua and traveled no less than 1 800 

 miles just for the purpose of going "down dere" and I was not 

 to be thwarted by the warnings of the sailboat captain. To- 

 gether we unloaded the eighty-pound diving helmet, eased 

 it over the gunwale, fixed it in position and connected the 

 air line and pump. I plunged overboard and came up spouting 

 water and shivering. After the hot tropical sunlight the water 

 felt cold. The black captain signaled that he had the pump 



