Our next dive approaches too quickly. Hugh’s only just started to explain how much of his childhood he spent looking after his little brother. Both of us seem to put our siblings first, even at the expense of our own best interests. When I met him, I thought we would never be able to agree on anything, that I would never be able to tolerate being around him. But I’m starting to feel like I may have been completely wrong.

Chapter 15

After our conversation is interrupted, Hugh and I buddy up quickly for the afternoon dive. Everything goes according to plan. I relish the feeling of jumping in, when every other sound melts away, and it’s just me and the open ocean. It’s also nice to get off the small confines of the boat.

Wonder Reef was spectacular, vibrant and teeming with life. Everywhere I looked there were flashes of colour and whirls of movement. But I didn’t see anything specifically of note, and I didn’t see a single butterfly wrasse. Instead of being disappointed, I try to use the hour underwater to make me feel more comfortable, mentally preparing myself the entire time for entering the sea later, under the cover of night.

As we set up for lunch, I go through my pictures of the staghorn coral from our four dives so far. I have taken about a hundred and fifty. There are only two that show promising hints of what could be a butterfly wrasse, but I can’t tell for sure, which means it won’t be conclusive enough proof. Identifying fish means you have to see their unique characteristics clearly, and butterfly wrasse are the easiest to identify by the extra fin they have on their underbelly. Neither of the photos captures an underbelly. I just have one fish face that has purple scales behind it and one tail that’s purple with a yellow stripe. Both could be butterfly wrasse, but they could also be something else entirely.

Discouraged, I follow Andrew and Pippa downstairs to take a break and eat lunch. The crew has outdone themselves again. I spot a quinoa salad studded with bright vegetables and platters of fruit. Pippa fills her plate with a sample of each. I spot a container of Oreos in the corner, which fills me with excitement. I pack my plate, avoiding the cookies for now, and balance my tray as I scale the ladders upstairs. I head to the platform to eat in the sun, with the breeze ruffling my curls. I can’t even begin to imagine how wild my hair looks. I took it out of my braids in my attempt to shower last night and couldn’t wrangle it back into one, so now it’s alternating between a messy bun and cascading in a heap down my back.