‘Ooooh, turtle,’ I say into my snorkel, ‘maybe you’ll let me take a nice picture?’ The turtle takes one look at me and is off. Dirty glance backwards. Apparently there are places all around the Caribbean where turtles are happy for you to come close, even I’ve heard, to their very liquid-eyed faces. I’ve just never been to one of them. Whenever I see a turtle in their own turf, I’m left smelling my underwater armpits. This is not a happy-to-watch-me-dig-and-glide, dig and glide eagle ray. Turtles are like, 'I have a nice butt, have you noticed?' Yes, I have now, thank you.  

Pass the seagrass - a conch with jaunty seaweed headgear munching his way through the grass. To the shore - which it turns out are made of rocks in Manchineel Bay. Corals are like perching pioneers here rather than ruling the place. You get the usual fishy suspects, the flagship parrotfish who start life as plain-coloured girls only to change and live out their final years as large, pastel-perfect boys. Clouds of yellow-tailed snappers peck the sand, making bands of bright-eyed groupies. 

Then there's the interesting ones. The anomalies. The cowfish, the banded butterflies, a large scrawled filefish. Fish that dart and kiss and rub themselves in the sand. Some have fluorescent edges which are hidden perfectly in the grass. Others glint off the shallow surface. Two seconds later and they’re gone. This is the reef love. Just keep swimming.

Love from Quest and her crew xx