Here's one of my stoned scuba stories from the 70's. When smuggling weed from S.America, there were months-long breaks while waiting for the signal that the next load was ready. Meanwhile I had to find ways to entertain myself on an ocean-going sailboat. A scuba aficionado friend came to visit, so I anchored in 30' of water off the west coast of Cat Cay, Bahamas. Sunny, light wind and negligible current. Single tank each. We headed slowly north in 30-40 feet depth. He was taking pictures of marine oddities, I was just along as dive buddy. Anybody see our mistake?
Inspecting some coral, I noticed the debris along the bottom was moving northward. I tapped my tank with some urgency to get my buddy's attention, and showed him that a handful of sand lifted from the bottom didn't fall downward, but headed horizontally northward. We surfaced immediately, to find that instead of being 100 yards away, the boat was small on the Southern horizon. The Gulf Stream is only 45 miles wide there, squeezed between Florida and the Bahamas, with up to 3.5 knot northward current mid-stream. Along both shores the current is variable, often forming eddies that flow in the opposite direction. The edges of the Great Bahama Bank also have strong tidal currents onto and off of the Banks. The uninhabited shore was gnarly coral rock rising vertically 6 or 8 feet from the water's edge, so heading for shore and walking back barefoot was out of the question. Maybe at the surface the current was less, we did reach the boat before the sun went down, swimming as hard as we could with flippers and flailing crawl stroke. Mom always said, "Son, if yr gonna be dumb, you better be tough."
You weren't the Only one 
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ppp
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