Bluff – Shark Dive NZ

IMG_3672Hopelessly traversing the docks of Bluff scanning for people, a billboard, an idling boat . . . any sign of Shark Dive New Zealand, I crunch irritably on the last few pieces of Inca corn. It’s 6:50 Sunday morning. The quay is empty and we’ve paid in full. A lone man in his early thirties stands by the bus stop anxiously twisting a strap around his finger. He’s also on this supposed shark dive. Paul offers him a seat in our warm car, but he declines. Through the open window the two compare notes on the correspondence they’ve received since booking. Perturbed by the frosty air now filling the car I whip the heat on high and reach into the backseat and dig for a snack bar. I’ve been up since 3:30am and am in no mood for small talk. There will be no Hilton breakfast this morning.IMG_0572Buoyant clomps upon the asphalt brings the conversation to an abrupt end as we all scan the otherwise noiseless quay for the source of this disturbance. Corkscrew curls skirt the bottom of her wooly cap and freckles splash her alabaster skin. Dressed in a pair of red waders and oversized boots, Nic looks more like someone’s kid sister playing dress-up in her big brother’s snow gear than a shark dive aficionado.   Pleased to have located the last of her “crew” she motions for us to follow. Continue reading