Still in Kona.

If you ever have the chance to go night snorkeling with giant manta rays, trust me: you must go night snorkeling with giant manta rays.

If, like me, you are from a part of the world where people do not snorkel with giant manta rays as a part of everyday life, do not worry.  It is actually very easy.

In Ohio, when I was growing up, the closest thing to snorkeling we had was a bunch of guys who would wait for the middle of February, punch a hole in the ice, rip off their shirts, and dive into the freezing water.  There would be TV cameras around, and a lot of people going Woooo and Yaaaa.  And this would make the evening news for exactly the same reason that uncontrollable fires and 14-car pileups make the news.  It would also look about as appealing.

But in Kona, there are companies you can pay to transform your body into a rubber-clad piece of driftwood and hurl you off the side of a boat in the path of exceedingly bright lights.  The lights attract plankton, and the plankton attract 1500-pound giant manta rays, and the 1500-pound 12-foot giant manta rays attract me, so now you’re reading about it.

So, sploosh.  Blurble.  Blurble.  Blurble.  Wait.

Then, MANTA RAY!  GIANT MANTA RAY!  And it’s headed right for us!

The manta rays are harmless, although a few hundred thousand plankton would probably disagree tonight.  They feed.  You watch.  Sometimes the mantas decide to take a second to scope you out.  This involves you holding very still while they run the length of their body along yours, six inches away, in sort of a slow, undulating arc.

If you’ve ever had a lap dance from a 3/4-ton marine animal, you know exactly how this feels.

If you haven’t, then you must go night snorkeling with giant manta rays.

That is all.