Adventures On The Reef

Louisa and Art and I are sitting on the gunwale of the boat eating our lunch. A two-foot remora, or sucker-fish, comes alongside. The top of his head is a plate which looks like a tire-treaded suction cup. He uses it to fasten himself onto the bellies of sharks. While he hitchhikes, he eats the living fish crumbs that fall from the mouth of his predatory host.

"Those things can be an awful nuisance," Art says. "Once I and my brother were fighting off this big tiger shark when this remora cuts loose from the shark's belly and latches onto the inside of my thigh, here. I almost drowned, that remora scared me so!"

"And the shark?" Louisa asks.

"Oh, he got rattled when his remora quit him. Anyway, he goes off to look for another."

He laughs again. "Maybe this remora's shark is around here somewhere, looking for him," he says as he goes back for another sandwich.

Hopeful the sharkless remora will not latch on to us—or a shark—before our afternoon dive, Louisa and I feed him great hunks of our own sandwiches. He is voracious. Coles says, "He's had about $2.50 worth of Sir Victor's food now."

Suddenly we hear Art call out from the stern.

"Hey, Coles! Look what's coming."

We hear the familiar, almost silent "plomp" as Art goes overboard. I think he probably put flippers and mask on in midair.

A quarter of a mile out I see two black triangles, rising and falling like the wing tips of a snorkeling butterfly. They are fluttering our way.