I turn the colour of a tomato but manage an eye roll to at least give a semblance of not caring. ‘Shut up,’ I hiss, but I let out a sigh of relief that he seems willing to go back to our normal back-and-forth. Maybe we can pretend like that never happened.

I feign interest in the group conversation. Everyone is chatting excitedly about the shark. Andrew is already exaggerating the story, saying he could have reached out and touched it as it swam by. Most of us have showered by now, and we’re all waiting for the dinner call.

Pippa has had enough of Andrew’s antics and she soon changes the subject, chatting about the day they have planned in Cairns for when we return. There are rules for how quickly you can fly after diving, so most everyone is staying in Cairns for at least twenty-four hours after the trip. The ascent into altitude on an airplane after being under sea level can make people sick – it’s called ‘the bends’, and the bends can be really dangerous. All divers I know are really wary of it.

Every time we descend and ascend in the water, we do it really slowly, with Vanessa and Miguel, and our little BCD computers, telling us how much time we need to depressurise. This helps the nitrogen release slower in our bodies, but with each dive, our bodies absorb more nitrogen, so the more dives you’ve done in a twenty-four-hour period, the more time you need before flying. Otherwise, when you go up to altitude in a plane, nitrogen gets dumped too quickly into your bloodstream.

The rule of thumb is to wait twenty-four hours after a single dive, more time if you’ve dived more than once. But the US Navy says you can wait only six hours, so there’s not an exact guideline. It seems like everyone has followed the 24-hour rule of thumb based on their plans.

Natalie and Derek have booked a food and wine tour in the Tablelands, about an hour inland from Cairns, for the afternoon we return. Pippa has booked her and Andrew on a waterfall hiking tour, which she pressures us to join.

‘They’re definitely going to have space,’ she’s saying. ‘And you can book it from the marina! It’s supposed to leave from the docks around two-ish and will get us back by six.’ She twirls a curl around her finger. ‘Come with us! It’ll be cool!’

‘Anyone could come with us,’ Natalie suggests. She glances at me then at Hugh.