Underwater Wonderland

It was peaceful here, dimly lit, and deep under the waves. Fish and sharks, sea turtles, crabs, and more moved on the other side of the thick glass; scuttling in the clean white sands or else parting the fronds of seaweed in pursuit of their own repast they seemed oblivious to our observations as we enjoyed our own.

The little restuarant was expensive, and the waiting list the longest I had ever come across, but it was worth every penny, and every minute of that wait.

Above the waves were white sand beaches, waters of clear turquoise blue, and verdant jungles as you roamed further inland. Cabins hid, nestled, within the cool shade of the trees or proudly squatted over the water on stilt-like legs, with bellies of glass, for watching the life underneath.

Down here though you could be forgiven for forgetting that there was a world above the waves. All was blue and calm. The light rippled and wavered with the movements of the watery denizens and conversation was hushed, little more than soft murmurings, scarcely heard over the gentle soundtrack being played. The thickness of the glass rendered the natural sounds of the deep silent so a CD of the sounds of waves and whale song played in the background. There were only ten tables here, five to either side, lining the edges of the glass tunnel. Just twenty guests, two waiters, and a maître d' to enjoy this peaceful wonderland. The bar and kitchen were for necessity above ground so we were removed from the bustle of noise and instructions that usually intrude when dining out; our orders taken quietly and without pomp or ceremony from the waiters who understood the view to be the primary delight and the nature of their quiet service was such that I didn't even notice when the chilled glass of oaked Chardonny was placed before me.

Everything was simple elegance: white linen cloth covered the tables and a minimalist arrangement of plates and cutlery adorned the top. No flowers or candles to impede the view. The floor, a bleached white wood, was smooth underfoot and surprisingly warm to my bare feet.

My partner tilted his glass of Pinot Noir in my general direction. I clinked glasses with him and shared a quick warm smile with him before gazing back out into the watery depths. He gave my hand a gentle squeeze, where it rested on his leg, when our food arrived. Briefly, I tore my attention away from where I'd spotted a stingray laying in the sand to thank the waiter and sample my meal of grilled white fish and local vegetables while my partner acknowledged the steak was cooked to his tastes too.

The evening passed slowly but agreeably as we ate, enjoyed our wine, and generally soaked up the tranquillity of the environment. Our plates cleared and our glasses refilled passing almost unnoticed. A dessert of island fruits baked with cinnamon and honey served with sweetened cream finished the meal. At some point one of the waiters took up a local stringed instrument, something of a cross between a harp and a guitar, and played softly. The cool blue-white light of the moon filtering through the water replaced the light of the sun and soon after that it was time to leave. The other couples filtered out slowly, murmuring thanks and praise to the waiters on the quality of the experience. Then it was our turn to go. My partner took my hand and kissed it.

"Ready to go, My Love?"

"Yes, Sunshine, I'd go anywhere with you."

He took my hand and led us barefoot back up the narrow stairway out of the oceanic aquarium of the restuarant back onto the still warm soft sands of the beach. Night noises beckoned; the shush of the waves, the gentle sea breeze through the trees, insects giving their final evening chorus, and there in the soft sands of the shoreline with the salt scented sea breeze cool on our skin and our minds at peace from the tranquility of the evening he proposed.