Dive boat diva

This time of year in Kentucky is always a depressive and dark, cold reminder that winter has a way to go. Instead of the snappy, sunny days of a cold New England with white snow, we all too often have damp, foggy ,and bone chilling times of depression.Times such as this remind me of past February days spent in the sunny Bahamas. The journey of a short distance by air is mind boggling to board in Lexington or Louisville in cold 30 degree weather to step out to brilliant sunshine and mid 70's in Nassau. It's quite startling to hear the pilot announce that we'll be arriving in Nassau in ten minutes to sunshine and temperatures in the seventies, even if we know this is normal and the way the world's climates work. As we get a ride to our inn, both Tim and I suddenly remember that the only ride in the world to equal a NYC cab ride to Mid town Manhatten is a Bus ride in the bahamas by a suicide bent native as he drives on the wrong side of the road in horn blowing glee, trying to scare his passengers to death. What is it with these drivers from hell as they blow these little shrill horns at every possible moment? It's almost a sexual thing with them as they screech around corners at sub light speeds , the engines belching noxious fumes at toxic levels. We hope they're diesels, but think they are probably gasoline. Along with the dive group from Louisville are three or four Louisville Metro Policemen, all under 30 years old, exuding testosterone, extreme agressive behavior, and delight at leaving wives and girlfriends in cold,snowy Louisville.There are a couple of babes along , one attached with her husband, the other a divorcee hairdresser from New Albany, where I guess it was just as cold as Louisville as only the Sherman Minton Bridge separates the two. The hair dresser talked on top of talk, she never shut up. On our first dive we embarked on a nice dive boat belonging to Nassau Divers, where we went out to some shallow reefs with some of the most beautiful coral in the western hemisphere. The water was so warm (mid 70s) that most of us wore just dive skins which is like Paradise when you're used to wearing bulky awkward ,wet suits. But then again we were in Paradise. The oranges were blooming on shore and the sky was an unimaginable blue, without a cloud in the sky. The tropical vines were loaded with vivid red flowers that were intoxicating in both color and fragrance . I think the Garden of Eden must have looked and smelled somewhat like Orange Hill where we stayed. Every night the cops would go to Nassau and come back drunk and rowdy, howling at the moon until nearly daylight.Every night Tim and I would take medicine for our pains and take stock of our sunscreen for the next day. Everyone else on the trip would be somewhere in-between. Perhaps the most memorable event of the trip was when we all converged on the Inn's pool to find Tracey( the married babe) sunbathing quite nonchalantly in the skimpiest thong ever beheld by civilized man. This was like Playboy mansion South.This woman would have placed in the top two in an Hawaiian Tropic Contest. Even the Bad Boys(you know the tune "Bad boy, bad boy what you gonna do?) were in a state of shock. We all stayed poolside until the sunscreen had boiled away and we became young and middle aged lobsters.Throughout it all the hairdresser kept talking, constantly telling us all and individually if our toe nails had fungus and how bad our hair cuts were. The cops ignored her and stayed signal nine on the thong babe.On our last dive on the final day of our charter, the dive master was over the dive site and was giving the dive instructions. Most everyone was paying attention, the cops were vivid red from the thong watch, and visibally hung over from Nassau's nightlife. The hair dresser however was as usual, yapping . The dive master asked her two times to be silent while he finished his instructions, and she ignored him. The dive captain just went over and picked her up, and threw her over the back of the boat. Everyone was silent with shock , then we see her come up and swim toward the swim platform . I think this is the perfect opportunity for old Tim to be a gentleman and help her on the boat. Did he try? No, he just watched as she struggled to get back on the slick platform. The bad boys looked like she had gotten what she deserved and turned their attention back to the lecturing dive captain. I realized if someone helped her it was to be me, since no one else was so minded. I went astern gave her a helping hand and helped pulled her aboard. She came up with fire in her eyes and said"At least there's one gentleman on board this damn boat!" All looked at me with some degree of malice in their eyes and we continued the dive. She spent the night with the guy who threw her overboard. Women???? Bad boys what you gonna do?