Enjoyed my best snorkel experience ever yesterday. I may have finally got some of this breathing-while-keeping-my-face-in-the-water thing figured out; I spent more time exploring than panicking. Saw Moorish idols, threadfin and several other types of butterflyfish, a Christmas wrasse (he’s green and red), a few humuhumunukunukuapua’a, and a whole number of other fish I don’t have names for. Small convict tangs often appeared right underneath me, and I swam through schools of trumpet fresh, quick and silver streaks just under the glittering surface.

I may have discovered why tropical islands are such vacation destinations: They are not real. When you truly experience a tropical island, the soft sand, the warm water so many new shades of blue, the palm trees whispering to each other, the sunsets turning the whole sky purple before a final climactic crescendo, you have stepped into an alternate world. Wherever you came from just slips away without your notice, and when you finally do realize it’s gone, you’re not even sure what it was.