The rays do a really really good job at avoiding you. The story of when Steve Irwin got poked, is because he was trying to pick the thing up, like bear hug style.

Little story; Me and a mate had freediving experience in our lake. Where the biggest thing you would see is a slimy catfish, a sunken Christmas Tree, or a grime covered Turtle (better hope it wasn't a snapping turtle!) Anyways, we were lake monsters ourselves, hugging all the grime that covered dock pillings, getting our feet dirty in the silt at the deepest parts. At our peak freediving prowess, we would dive 20-25 ft. only armed with a long pole (to feel for the bottom and ahead of us) b/c guess what, it was dark, dark as fuck. You go past 10 feet and not only would it be a pressing cold, but it would be a very very very dark green and you couldn't see your own feet. The best place was to look up, because at least up in that direction you could see a lighter green, and you would know if you were staring in the eyes of some unseen LAKE MONSTER. HAHA, I laugh about it now. Anyways, his family was going to take a trip to the bahamas, lo-and-behold, I was invited!

Fast forward to us on the ferry towards the island we were staying on. I remember that first visual. I walk out onto the deck after taking a nap, and was awoken by my friend excitedly telling me to look outside. I groggily, but excitedly, go outside. I see a massive expanse of light blue, and go to the edge and look down. I see a very light blue this time and it's speeding by. I see blurs of colors I've never seen in water before, speeding by. It's hard to determine what's coral and what's seagrass on the sand. It alternated between expanses of sand, and patches of coral and seagrass. Remember, I'm seeing this as the shade of blue changes to shades of green and back because the depth was always changing. So I see a plethora of colors, and I start to wonder what it's going to be like swimming through it. We get settled in and after a couple of days of swimming on the fringe of bays and coves, we felt comfortable enough to really get into the freediving. We took a kayak and did a 45 minute paddle approx. 1.5 miles out. We could see the huge formations of coral and we were nervous and excited at the prospect of it all. This is the farthest we've been out yet. But we were freedivers we needed to feel safe but push the boundaries at the same time. What we saw next, nothing prepared us for. We jumped in, and right away we were greeted with a canvas of life of all different shapes, sizes, and colors. It felt like we just crossed the meniscus between earth and a different planet. Everything had a very basic rhythm, and that was of the tide going in and out, gently swaying. Including yourself, you had to compensate for the sway at times as to not bump into things. God forbid you disrupted the what seemed like a delicate dance. Every now and then something would catch your eye, because it wasn't swaying in the same rhythm as the coral. Those were the fishes, determined to do their own thing, aka survive. Never have we been so close to a compact nature cycle. We felt like observers for a busy metro or business. We instantly felt a world of respect for this well, world. Nothing knows what you are. Fish react, because they know how big you are. That's what it comes down to, if you are bigger, the vicinity around you has an air of caution. It'll really breath some life into you, even when you see barracuda or a smaller shark. It's scary, but fortunately, you are top of the food chain and you can really tell that from the start. To the people who don't take the plunge, you are really missing out on an amazing life experience. Where else in the world can you be floating in the coolest, clearest blue water, sun on your back, and be surrounding by color, movement, life, and a sense of place. If you have the chance, grab a dive partner, keep 'em close, and take the plunge. You won't regret it.