common words that lead to nods and
ballyhoo, those expected currencies of behavior.

"I'm getting through," came the reply. "Seems beyond the reef, dolphins
and the occasional shark gather. Good fishing, though--red snappers and
groupers with anemones along the bottom--the Mexicans eat those you
know--call'em seaeggs."

Cliff, only vaguely interested, beckoned Steve's attention back to that
one inescapable query--was it safe to dive.

Another brief flurry of words were exchanged with the fisherman raising
a bronzed arm to touch the crown of his cap. Some indecipherable
Spanish mutterings followed and another burst of loud exclamations
before Steve halted his forays into that basic issue of logic and
pernicity. Cliff eyed the two and then spoke again.

"I don't have to catch every word of his conversation to understand the
general drift of his speech. He feels some danger exists, so why chance
it? Why soften his warning with your doggerel translations. Your
Spanish is at least good enough to surmise what I'm instinctively
feeling. Let's quit and go ashore."

"Not so fast. The water's calm here and the visibility rings like a
bell. He mentioned sharks have been sighted here not that there's ever
been an attack."

"Yeah, well if there's never been a problem it's because this spot is
so isolated. Remember this area is no regular mecca for divers of any
type. Consider its remoteness and then do a little basic thinking as to
why no one has reported an aggressive White, let alone one barracuda
incident. I say it's not worth chancing and I can tell by his face that
even despite your bundle of pesos something has been set registering."

Steve feigned disinterest. Buckling his tanks, every nodule of
perspiration shone like beaded stud marks across his back. The salt on
their skins was razor sharp and the wind's jerky movement caused
incessant choppy movements about the breadth of the boat's rhythm. A
cross-section of moods was close to enveloping them. For one, the
afternoon sun was like a bayonet shoved through the thin sky.
Obtrusively red, it fumbled renewed sweat beads across each man's brow
like an eager dresser's haste with an awkward button. No sooner was one
silenced than another plodding moisture bead appeared. Only the Mexican
could remain unmoved to droplets skidding toward the vicinity of his
lower eyelid. It conjured up tales of flies crawling into the eyes of
aborigines in the Outback but without any appare