Finding Nemo

 

It is easy to become ungrounded, especially when living on a speck in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Here one is so remote from the rest of the world; people come and go; policies change and new rules come into effect; one forgets why we came to be stranded out here in the Marshall Islands. The activity that grounds me, when living here in the past, is snorkeling. It is free, just a bike ride away, and can be done anytime of the day. I usually go alone, when the sun is out, but have had great snorkels in the rain as well. I escape from the world into a beautiful underwater paradise, full of colorful fish, corals and exciting rare sightings. I never kept a record, and am sorry to say I didn't even take the time to learn the names of what I saw. I did have one focus... to find something new, or unusual each time. At first it was about reporting back to my sons, who would ask, "See anything good today?" But my curiosity kept me going back for more. There are all kinds of parrot fish, and varieties of trigger fish. Then I would discover octopus dens and clown fish in their anemones, and felt I needed to check up on them regularly like one would a pet. After leaving Kwajalein, for years I could close my eyes and travel again over the reef to the drop off, visiting well known coral heads, and seeing turtles and rays swim beneath me. This is more than my happy place, it is my sense of being grounded, returning me my sense of wonder.

So why did I feel a sense of panic as I swam away from the beach this morning? My fins are in my packout, leaving me slow in the water with just a mask and snorkel.  My last snorkel, off another island in the atoll, brought me up close and personal with sharks. Instead of lying low, one grey reef shark swam right below me, checking me out. As I hurried to get back to the boat, another two white tips came along side me, probably just curious, but certainly giving me a sense of being hunted. The sharks circled the boat for sometime, watching us as we watched them. But then I had fins, and wasn't alone.  This morning I almost turned back to shore because I wasn't willing to take any more risks.

But I didn't... I kept to the shallows and marveled at the colors and shapes of the corals. Three years ago, raging storms caused coral bleaching and breakage. The reef is only now starting to show signs of making a comeback.  I especially miss all the sea anemones waving their tentacles to hide the clown fish inside. The storms must have killed these off as well.  A friendly turtle let me come near and I started to get my confidence back. There was nothing here that would hurt me! I was back to investigating the reef and patiently floating to see what might swim by.  And I did find my clown fish, staying within the safety of a good size anemone! As I watched, the babies darted out, and back in again. One day they will have the courage to go out on their own and find another anemone... might even have to go far.