Tag island hopping

Just a few meters out from the beach the sand gives way to an entirely different landscape; forests of bony coral fingers covered in green algae; meter wide shelves of brown coral in uneven stacks, so thin and brittle they look like they would break at the slightest touch; clusters of sea urchins with spikes 20 centimeters long. I must stay mindful of how I move, lest I should hurt myself or damage the coral. Hundreds or even thousands of fishes swim back and fourth through this landscape; tiny blue ones flitting out of sight in a moment, flat black and white ones with long filaments at the ends of their fins, gliding majestically along, big silver ones nibbling on the coral, and ones that lie still on the ocean floor, their mottled skin acting as near perfect camouflage. A few meters further out the seabed drops precipitously away beneath my feet and the water turns a deeper shade of blue. I suddenly find myself floating in the middle of a school of neon yellow, tiger striped fish. They whirl around me, nervously at first, but as I slow my movement to a minimum they come in closer, curious about this new presence. As soon as I move a hand towards one, it swims away with a flash. Moments later another comes inching closer again. It's like a curious dance we're doing, the school of fishes and I. It lasts a few minutes until I take off in a different direction, continuing to explore.