After feasting on our breakfast stores, we packed our trusty map and set course for the Reef Terminal, where departing ships, eh, departed for the reef. We climbed aboard the scurrrvy ship and sailed (motored) off for parts unknown (Green Island). Upon disembarkation (is that a word?), we saw a fleet of large sting rays flying through the water and turning on a dime in unison.
In the middle of the island stood a cluster of huts, or restaurants and equipment rentals disguised as huts. After picking up our snorkel gear, we kerwhump kerwhumped (that's the sound flippers make when you walk) into the shallows and were soon flip flapping through the water toward the deep, blue sea. Following the advice of two of our wiser (read: older) friends, we linked pinkies to keep track of each other (shark attacks) and as a mini telegraph line for fish spotting communications.
As we were flipping and floating, I was praying so hard that we'd see a sea turtle. AND WE DID. In that outing, we saw TWO. Sea turtles! We also saw coral that looked like brain and mazes and folded velvet and waving spaghetti. There were schools of tiny fish and bigger angel fish and even bigger grouper. After a few hours of snorkeling, it was time for a food break, so we bought lunch at one of the huts. Since we watched Jiminy Cricket's warnings as small children, we knew we should take a walk after lunch before swimming again or the dreadful swimmingtoosoonaftereating-itis would get us. The island was pretty… island-y. Coconut trees leftover from a coconut plantation, vines and grasses grew thickly in the center of the island.
Eventually, the danger of swimmingtoosoonaftereating - itis left and we returned to the water, this time, near the jetty. I really wanted to catch an underwater look at those big rays we'd seen earlier that morning, but instead we saw giraffe vacuum cleaner rays. We were almost on top of them before we saw them fluttering through the grassy seabed. Their technical name is not giraffus vacuuminus cleanerus, I just call them that because that's what they look like. Now when I say they look like giraffes, of course I don't mean the necks, because rays don't even have necks. I mean they were a chestnutty color with tawny dapples. The vacuum cleaner part happens when they stop for a moment over the sea bed and start heaving and sucking up something (food?) like a vacuum cleaner. Their tails were quite long and don't you think for a second I wasn't thinking about the Crocodile Hunter and having one of those things plunged into my dear little aorta.
Soon after that, I left to get on the snorkel tour boat, unfortunately without my pinkie promise snorkel buddy. I was one of three snorkelers on the boat, and the other two spoke Japanese. I don't speak Japanese, but I tried to smile and have eye conversations like "Oh, isn't this going to be fun" and "Gee, I hope you see some great stuff out there" and "What great weather this is for snorkeling".
They stopped the boat a mile or so out from the island, sprayed our goggles with anti-fog solution, pointed out the boundaries and let us loose. Kerwhumping your way from the beach into the shallows is quite different from kerwhicking your way down a boat ladder and plunging into ocean you can't see the bottom of. By "quite different", I mean I got water up my nose when I first jumped in because I'm scared of the ocean as an inanimate entity capable of killing me.
Daunted but not entirely disarmed of my sense of adventure, I flip flapped off, peering through the jade green hazy water aglow with shafts of sunshine. I came to my first mountain, at least it looked like a mountain. Colorful forests swathed it with their foliage and flocks of wildlife peppered its sides. Only, instead of pine or spruce or oak forests that you're used to, they were coral forests of teals and orange and lime and magenta. Some were smooth, others covered with tiny nodes. And instead of flocks of herons or herds of deer, there were schools of tiny fish flitting around like water bound butterflies. Just like mountains above water, these great, rugged monuments of coral seemed to come in ranges and were divided periodically by steep valleys. Peering down through the haze to the sandy canyon bottoms, I kept expecting to see the sinewy silhouette of a shark. No such luck.
Just living with the possibility of seeing a shark kept me on my guard. There was no pinky warning to let me know if I was about to be devoured. My drive to survive was turned on high between shark-watching and keeping a wary eye on my snorkeling position. Like a lake turtle, I'd pop my head up now and then just to make sure I wasn't being swept out to sea. Being swept out to sea is no way to spend a vacation.
I let my eyes graze on the beauty of this coral mountain range, taking in the flashing silver of a few good sized fish or the circus-like gaudiness of the parrot fish. I caught sight of a sea turtle just before he caught sight of me and flew away to some murky hideout. The second one I saw didn't see me for what seemed like a few minutes. It could only have been a few seconds, really. I hovered above him, taking in the geometric pattern on his shell and his leisurely flapping through the water. I also spotted a couple sea stars the color of sapphires sprawled lazily across the coral. It looked like someone had taken a blue Sharpie to them, they were so bright. Dotting the bases of some reefs were giant clams. When I say giant, I don't mean foot long, as if they were a Sonic hot dog or something. When I say giant, I'm talking about approaching three feet across. Wouldn't want to get your face caught in one of those.
All too soon our time was up and we kerwhicked our way back up the ladder and had more eye conversations like "Gee, wasn't that swell" and "There's some pretty cool stuff down there", except I don't know if there's a Japanese equivalent to "gee" and "swell". The boat took us back to the island, where we had a little time to turn in our gear, gather our belongings and board the ship for the main land, where we promptly sought out showers.
Being the cheapskate health nuts we are, we asked directions to a proper grocery store. SG opted for a sensible dinner choice of salad and hummus with bread. I just got a green apple, some hummus and a quarter of a watermelon, of which I ate half for dinner and half for breakfast the next morning, but that's another story.
Little Miss Sunshine
In the middle of the island stood a cluster of huts, or restaurants and equipment rentals disguised as huts. After picking up our snorkel gear, we kerwhump kerwhumped (that's the sound flippers make when you walk) into the shallows and were soon flip flapping through the water toward the deep, blue sea. Following the advice of two of our wiser (read: older) friends, we linked pinkies to keep track of each other (shark attacks) and as a mini telegraph line for fish spotting communications.
As we were flipping and floating, I was praying so hard that we'd see a sea turtle. AND WE DID. In that outing, we saw TWO. Sea turtles! We also saw coral that looked like brain and mazes and folded velvet and waving spaghetti. There were schools of tiny fish and bigger angel fish and even bigger grouper. After a few hours of snorkeling, it was time for a food break, so we bought lunch at one of the huts. Since we watched Jiminy Cricket's warnings as small children, we knew we should take a walk after lunch before swimming again or the dreadful swimmingtoosoonaftereating-itis would get us. The island was pretty… island-y. Coconut trees leftover from a coconut plantation, vines and grasses grew thickly in the center of the island.
Eventually, the danger of swimmingtoosoonaftereating - itis left and we returned to the water, this time, near the jetty. I really wanted to catch an underwater look at those big rays we'd seen earlier that morning, but instead we saw giraffe vacuum cleaner rays. We were almost on top of them before we saw them fluttering through the grassy seabed. Their technical name is not giraffus vacuuminus cleanerus, I just call them that because that's what they look like. Now when I say they look like giraffes, of course I don't mean the necks, because rays don't even have necks. I mean they were a chestnutty color with tawny dapples. The vacuum cleaner part happens when they stop for a moment over the sea bed and start heaving and sucking up something (food?) like a vacuum cleaner. Their tails were quite long and don't you think for a second I wasn't thinking about the Crocodile Hunter and having one of those things plunged into my dear little aorta.
Soon after that, I left to get on the snorkel tour boat, unfortunately without my pinkie promise snorkel buddy. I was one of three snorkelers on the boat, and the other two spoke Japanese. I don't speak Japanese, but I tried to smile and have eye conversations like "Oh, isn't this going to be fun" and "Gee, I hope you see some great stuff out there" and "What great weather this is for snorkeling".
They stopped the boat a mile or so out from the island, sprayed our goggles with anti-fog solution, pointed out the boundaries and let us loose. Kerwhumping your way from the beach into the shallows is quite different from kerwhicking your way down a boat ladder and plunging into ocean you can't see the bottom of. By "quite different", I mean I got water up my nose when I first jumped in because I'm scared of the ocean as an inanimate entity capable of killing me.
Daunted but not entirely disarmed of my sense of adventure, I flip flapped off, peering through the jade green hazy water aglow with shafts of sunshine. I came to my first mountain, at least it looked like a mountain. Colorful forests swathed it with their foliage and flocks of wildlife peppered its sides. Only, instead of pine or spruce or oak forests that you're used to, they were coral forests of teals and orange and lime and magenta. Some were smooth, others covered with tiny nodes. And instead of flocks of herons or herds of deer, there were schools of tiny fish flitting around like water bound butterflies. Just like mountains above water, these great, rugged monuments of coral seemed to come in ranges and were divided periodically by steep valleys. Peering down through the haze to the sandy canyon bottoms, I kept expecting to see the sinewy silhouette of a shark. No such luck.
Just living with the possibility of seeing a shark kept me on my guard. There was no pinky warning to let me know if I was about to be devoured. My drive to survive was turned on high between shark-watching and keeping a wary eye on my snorkeling position. Like a lake turtle, I'd pop my head up now and then just to make sure I wasn't being swept out to sea. Being swept out to sea is no way to spend a vacation.
I let my eyes graze on the beauty of this coral mountain range, taking in the flashing silver of a few good sized fish or the circus-like gaudiness of the parrot fish. I caught sight of a sea turtle just before he caught sight of me and flew away to some murky hideout. The second one I saw didn't see me for what seemed like a few minutes. It could only have been a few seconds, really. I hovered above him, taking in the geometric pattern on his shell and his leisurely flapping through the water. I also spotted a couple sea stars the color of sapphires sprawled lazily across the coral. It looked like someone had taken a blue Sharpie to them, they were so bright. Dotting the bases of some reefs were giant clams. When I say giant, I don't mean foot long, as if they were a Sonic hot dog or something. When I say giant, I'm talking about approaching three feet across. Wouldn't want to get your face caught in one of those.
All too soon our time was up and we kerwhicked our way back up the ladder and had more eye conversations like "Gee, wasn't that swell" and "There's some pretty cool stuff down there", except I don't know if there's a Japanese equivalent to "gee" and "swell". The boat took us back to the island, where we had a little time to turn in our gear, gather our belongings and board the ship for the main land, where we promptly sought out showers.
Being the cheapskate health nuts we are, we asked directions to a proper grocery store. SG opted for a sensible dinner choice of salad and hummus with bread. I just got a green apple, some hummus and a quarter of a watermelon, of which I ate half for dinner and half for breakfast the next morning, but that's another story.
Little Miss Sunshine
Awesome writing Cas! Folded velvet. That IS what the coral looked like. Thanks for adventuring with me in this wacko, beautiful, far-away-from-home country.
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