Deep Diver Straits

Chapter 2 - The Beach

  "Max Hawthorne's Book Trailers & Videos – Killer Whale Attacked by Living Mosasaur?"

The screen is a wide blue extension of a deep blue [ocean] speckled with debris of white... That's a good start, anyway. Lots of details, admittedly very blurry but still better than what was usually served on here. The [ ]

This video was taken right off the coast of Norway, where I live. That is the crazy part. Most likely close to [ ] actually. And yeah, sure, they discovered Predator X (Pliosaurus funkei) here a couple years back and we do have the killer whales/orcas themselves, but still... It's unbelievable that something like this would ever be so close to home. My old, calm, small and above all typically somewhat boring or insignificant homeland of Norway... I love my country of course but I mean we don't even have more than four species of snake. So when I saw this, that it was Norway, something struck a chord deep inside of me, to say the least. I thought about it more and more, and... Well, to make a long story short at first I was extremely intrigued, then gradually forgot about but continued to log into the sight once every other month to look for updates, and also read other blogs about possible Mosasaurus sightings and all kinds of sea monsters in general... I never found much of any use. 

Then, finally, just as I was deciding on where to get my [diver's education/[job/position/[ ]], with at least eight different locations to choose from and not being particularly predisposed towards any of them, I suddenly saw a small news article talking about the [ ] big killer whales and sharks having been washed up ashore with enormous bite mark wounds on the beaches across Australia. South Africa too, of course, but none of the available sites were anywhere close, the only African one being in Egypt.

So Australia it was, as I gladly ticked in the box on the school website's application form. Australia, and the strangely fitting yet uncreative name of Deep Diver Straits, just a little bit off [Perth/Darwin/[ ]]?]. Perhaps that was a sign as well, I thought. Just such a simple and perfect name, really. So that was my reasoning for going. Maybe I would see or hear something – most likely not – and I was also generally curious about the real animals too, and the country and the population in general. I've always liked Australians, whenever I've seen them on TV or in movies. They just seem really cool. Turns out, yeah, they really were. I went there with [ ] and two others from [ ]. After a week or two I felt right at home, listening closely to the instructions from my instructor Tobias, the shark expert. He had been diving for over 25 years in the area, and it showed. He was well middle-aged, maybe 54-60, similar to my Dad in age, slightly shorter than me and with a slight beer belly, but also a hardy [complexion/[ ]], a sharp alert smile, salt-stained stubble and a big hooked nose that made him look half a laughing shark himself. His face was the most noticeable part, though, or his skin in general. He was wrinkled all over, almost like sun-tanned leather (most likely from having spent so much time in water, as I thought to myself) but still he looked young and vigorous in spirit. That was essentially all that I could have hoped for in my Australian diving mentor, and I was satisified to heed his advice on every occasion. The reason why I stress this is that I had almost gotten away with not doing the [ ] in the beginning at [ ], but when I came down to [ ] Tobias told me immediately that it was a [load of nonsense/[Insert Australian phrase]]. He would have me do the correct procedures or I could look for a different career. And thus it was, so I just did it and eventually got used to it, despite the fact that it went against all of my basic survival instincts. 

After about 2-3 months, it was time to [ ]. I weighed my options back and forth for maybe a couple of minutes, wondering whether I would get addicted to the reefs and the area in general, and stay here until I was every bit as wrinkled and gnarled as old leather as Tobias himself, and now wondering with more serious contemplation whether it was really the water or the heat of the sun that made him and many other Australians look so decidedly weather-bitten and mature. But I decided that it wasn't such a bad fate at all to follow in the footsteps of Tobias. This place was essentially a slow-moving paradise, with its very worst effect – the warm dryness and extreme heat – being always svalkened and at least temporarily cured by my very profession. The water, then, was fittingly enough my saviour.So: I continued working there throughout the [summer/winter/[ ]], during which time not much happened. I hung out with the local people, of course, and became friends with many of the tourists, and in general it was all nice, but I still felt that I hadn't really [ ]. There were no good bars or clubs nearby, unless you went all the way to [Perth/Darwin/[ ]], which I did two times in total. Turns out, it's kind of hard to get into the night club scene when you don't know anyone your own age there. [ ] had been assigned to [ ] and I went with him the second time, but even then we didn't really meet up with anyone, we just got hammered off [Pisko Sour/[ ]] and talked to some thin dark-blonde platinum broads in white jeans and tops that were way out of anyone's league, but of course thought that our accents were cute. We added them on snap after about ten minutes and then they went along with some of their guy friends. Surprise, surprise, though, the one never added us back on Snapchat and the other sent about three messages to [ ] before ghosting him the very next day. After that I never went back to [ ] other than to pick up [ ] for when I got a skin rash on my leg.