Just do it

When I was in Koh Tao, during my final week in Thailand, I decided to try out one of the local bays (Shark Bay, specifically) that had been recommended to me as a half decent site for snorkeling. Even though I'd already earned my diving certificates (and could, instead, just have gone diving at dirt cheap prices) I decided that the simpleness of snorkeling was something more desirable on the hangover I was sporting.
I got a taxi to the bay and got stuck in straight away, swimming far out and around the edges of the cove. The sea life was quite spectacular, with an abundance of tropical fish and, best of all, the place was practically deserted. I'm guessing that people get so preoccupied with the scuba diving out in the ocean they take for granted what's basically on their beach hut's doorstep.
Time flew by and the current was beginning to pick up strength, so I decided it was time to swim back to shore. I kept my head under the water as I swam back - I had gone quite far out, but the depth was still no more than 5 meters and the visibility remained crystal clear.
So the 'moment' happened about 2 minutes after I'd decided to call it a day.
As I swam along a fairly barren stretch of water I noticed a lonesome green coloured rock in the distance, illuminated by the weak rays of the late afternoon sun. I thought nothing of it, but decided I might as well check it out seeing as I was swimming in that direction anyway. As I got closer, I began to notice that this rock had quite a peculiar shape - it was flat and seemed to have other parts protruding out its edges. Closer still and I could have sworn I saw it move but I shrugged this notion off as just the reflections of sunlight, dancing on the surface, playing tricks on my mind. Once I was nearly floating directly above it, I realised that this rock had a head, and a pair of big black eyes, it was a giant sea turtle, quite possibly bigger than myself. Not just one, but two of them (I saw the second immediately after I realised what they were), calmly rested upon the ocean floor.
The moment between me discovering them and the instance they swam in to the deep lasted a good 10 or so seconds. As far as moments go, 10 seconds is an absolute godsend of a time period, because you have actually have time to acknowledge you're in one of these moments, right there and then. As a wildlife fan, observing those creatures, in close quarters while peacefully adrift in the sea, was life defining. Life = moments².