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Watching old James Bond movies I hold my breath along with the action underwater to see if I can do it, and usually can. Ha! It's not the same at all. I don't think I was under the boat for more than 30 seconds, 45 tops. Not that I was counting or even thinking about counting.

Swimming under the boat, the mental and physical effort of working on an insane knot, and knowing you have to get out from under the boat without being caught in the line or the propeller itself— well, it's a whole lot more than holding your breath.

And I still have salt water in the throat, nose, and for all I know every porous part of my insides— I don't think the lungs though.

Man, I'm sort of daydreaming a little bit here (nightdreaming while awake?) and what I see and feel is just more visions from the boat ride, as if we were going further, finishing the loop around the pier.

I'm still a little amazed I dove in (prudently taking off my pants--- I knew I'd be cold coming out, though the water was quite warm).

It's a little like falling in love. You don't know what you're doing but you rise to the occasion.

From Rich I got amazing, clutch, and completely unexpected/requested/whatever-the-word-is emergency aid on the server scare (such as, first step shut it off to the rest of the world) and holding the boat against the wind and the tide to get buoy rope untied

thought about Dad a lot in all good ways– it's all good ways, but ways that seemed fairly emotionally healthy for me.