THE SEA RHINOCEROS 85 



Suddenly it began to rain. It was fine drenching March 

 rain but warm. We sheltered on the edge of the rocky coast, 

 but in spite of the shelter the sparking plugs of the engine 

 were wet in a matter of minutes. Cecco and Gigi covered 

 themselves with my towel and informed me that if I wanted 

 to cut my towel in half they would have no objection. I told 

 them to forget it and wet as I was, dived into the sea. 



The water was cloudy as I dropped steeply into a dead sea. 

 There was practically no coral, the rocks were grey and the 

 waves muddy . . . Desolation ... I went on. 



The rain was beating down. More than once I breathed in 

 air mixed with rain and sea water. The sea was getting 

 rougher and running in white rollers to the coast. The flow 

 back was carrying me out and I could no longer see the 

 bottom. I forced inyself back to the coast and had to be 

 careful not to hit the rocks. Streaks of cloud going east trans- 

 formed the islands into grey and black. 



I reached a narrow cove, a few yards long. I had already 

 decided to go back and simply wanted to rest on a rock that 

 would form a barrier to the waves. I glanced under the block. 

 It was concave underwater and hundreds offish were shelter- 

 ing there. They were placed one on top of the other (dia- 

 grams, demoiselle fish, butterfly fish, trigger fish . . .) 

 motionless like books on shelves or caviar in a tin. One shot 

 down there would hit at least a dozen. The sight made me 

 happy. I chuckled underwater, diving in ten times to browse 

 around that stupendous collection. The fish of the same 

 species did not mix with others, and those that found them- 

 selves in forced contact with other species worked busily to 

 drive the other away. The big ones were irritated by the 

 impertinence of the little ones and brushed them off with 

 their snouts and their tails ... It was a bus full of fish at 

 rush hour. What I would have given to hear their comments ! 



