An Afternoon at Sea

We climbed back into the kayak, minds swimming with visions of colorful fish, faces wet with sea water. The waves were beating against the rocks in slow surges, making it difficult to achieve a steady entrance. As we pushed off, I let out a quiet sigh. While the beauty of the ocean calls to me with its many sights and smells, its vast unknown and mysterious power makes me uneasy. Unlike my husband, I am not a calm sailor. He was in the back of the kayak, telling me to focus on the horizon straight ahead so that I would not get queasy. My stomach was surprisingly calm, but I followed his direction just in case.
I felt the muscles in my arms burning as we began our journey back to civilization. We had been snorkeling at the base of Captain Cook’s monument on the Big Island of Hawaii. It is an area only accessible by boat. In our search for the elusive monument labeled so prominently on the map, we came across a small parking lot where a woman and her brother rent kayaks. I was nervous at first but knew in my gut that this was an experience not to be missed. We paid the woman for the rental and had to change into our bathing suits in the car because there were no restrooms on the premises. Then we kayaked over to the monument, breathing in the salty air and staying clear of the tremendous cliff that loomed to our right.
When we reached our destination, the kayak gently slammed into the rocks and we scrambled to get out with the incoming wave. There were boats all along the shore and people swimming all around us, their snorkels poking out of the water. My husband and I slipped on our fins, and I ungracefully slid into the water. I spit into my mask, swirled some water around the viewing area and stretched it onto my head, placing the attached snorkel into my mouth.
As I dipped my head into the ocean, I knew immediately that the trip was worth it. Multicolored fish swam along side us in orderly schools, and spiny sea urchins spotted the ocean floor like koosh balls. Coral grew in jagged clumps, creating a city underwater. There were places where you had to swim carefully or your body would brush against the sharp structures, which would not only damage the coral but also cause a painful scrape that could take weeks to heal. We were so close to shore that you could feel the waves pushing you toward land. Water kept seeping into my mouthpiece and I had to spit it out, the salty flavor lingering in the back of my throat. My husband raced ahead, pointing out interesting sea creatures or the occasional man made structure. The fish welcomed these strangers into their habitat as they welcomed us. I felt as if I could reach out and stroke their slippery backs.
Our rental was only for one hour, and we eventually returned to the shore and began our return. The memory of mysterious ocean dwellers was fresh in my mind as we gracefully glided back in the kayak. The warm sun dried my skin and I was thankful for the opportunity to spend my afternoon with the sea.