We went to North Carolina right after Hurricane Katrina.
Hurricane Rita was lingering, but seemed to be leaving.
The hotel we booked was flooded and closed.
“Go inland seven miles to find another room to book.”
We drove by fallen trees, flooded streets and all the windows that broke.
We kept on driving, but my husband’s mind set on diving.
All the diving shops were closed, but some still answered calls.
“No boats are going out. The water is too murky for any diver to see!”
My husband didn’t give up, calling and left message after message.
“A group of four marine guys just stopped by, they wanted to dive!”
“Oh fantastic, I surly will join them. Tomorrow will be fine.”
Forty miles off the shore, the water was as calm and flat as the floor.
The water was clear; the wreck was a beauty to behold.
“The air tank is running low; time is up, we have to go!”
One hundred twenty feet dive was the deepest dive in my husband’s life!
“What a thrill! Thanks to the marine guys!
It was no coincidence that they came by.
I came all the way from the west coast just to dive.
Without these marine guys, I would go home with a ‘sigh’!
Now I got my pictures, the souvenirs, and an exciting dive!”
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