Writers Experience
I rested my head against the rock face and used my free hand to feel under my waist strap for the gauges.
Inching slightly to the side I could make out the display and checked that 120-bar air pressure remained. I closed my eyes for a few seconds to slow my breathing and concentrated on relaxing.
My right hand still clutched my prize. My first dive since completing an open-water course I finally had a legal-sized crayfish in my grasp.
The silt started to settle and visibility returned to the crack. I started to feel around to work out how the cray was going to come out of the tight squeeze. Grabbing the torch strapped to my left wrist I started to look each side of where I had my intended dinner guest trapped.
The crack widened about 30cm to the right, and I slowly started to push and pull the cray as I worked him towards the wider part of the crack and into my catch bag.
Working slowly to conserve air, I kept a firm grip on the base of the horns and used my knees and fins to hold position on the side of the rock face. I shimmied my hand from side to side and finally managed to pry the crayfish out of his deep lair.
I was overwhelmed with excitement as the catch bag snapped shut. I couldn’t wait to tell dad.
The Writer with two Northland Crayfish
The days haul.