The current carried me steadily away from the security of my support boat, but my attention was focused on the blue water before me.
Fixing my eyes on the blue water, I searched for mantas.
At the weekends, yachts and cruisers of all sizes criss-cross the blue water.
Trim yachts skim the surface of the blue water and there is not a cloud in the sky - yet we are a mere hour's train ride from the manic heart of Manhattan.
Collections of bannerfish decorate the blue water at the fringes of the reef like confetti fluttering in a breeze.