Passport to the Bottom of the Sea

“Shark!” He clearly wanted to shout it but being underwater eliminates that option. For most people that word produces heart pounding palpitations. But not when your goal is to be immersed in the world at the bottom of the sea and observe the unique creatures that inhabit it. Instead, after waving frantically, he quickly put his hands together to make the shark fin sign hoping we would not miss it.

“Where?” I squealed in my mind while scouring the area with my typically keen eyes. Our dive master grabbed his board and frantically wrote Wobbegong Shark then pointed with desperate enthusiasm.

“Where?” I wondered. “There are no signs of a shark.”

Hovering nearby, he moved his hand slowly and cautiously outlined its body. Following its form from the tail back toward the head, I could not believe my eyes when I recognized its eye sizing us up as well. “Did we look as alarming to him as he did to us?” I can still recall my confusion and the disbelief that followed when I realized, the shark he was trying to show us was not hiding behind some rocks; it was the rocks! In my book, the fringe on the edge of his mouth is an unbelievable icing on the camouflage cake.

Scuba diving was one of my passions for nearly 15 years. However, I had never taken pictures while diving. I was more of an “enjoy the moment while it lasts” kind of diver. My friend, Maya, was determined to do something memorable for her milestone birthday coming up. After hunting for unique ideas, she landed on scuba diving in the #1 spot on all the lists: Raja Ampat, Indonesia. It was a once in a lifetime type of trip, so, I accepted the invitation without any hesitation.

“Do you have a passport?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you know when it expires?”

“No, I don’t. I’ll check.”

“It must be valid for 6 months after the date we arrive in Indonesia,” she explained.

“Oh, wow! It’s expired,” I said mournfully, then quickly cried out to google to find out if I could renew it in time. There was a big exhale from us both as I found out the process would easily have it returned to me well before our trip. Still, every day Maya sent annoying text messages inquiring about its status. Eventually, I responded with a retort to convince her to stop hassling me. Perhaps I should have had a premonition at that point, but I did not. We wasted no time making reservations and buying our plane tickets. When I finally held my new passport in my hand, goosebumps popped up all over my body like I was about to be shot out of a canon. Or, you might say, my excitement grew.

The week before we left, Maya texted asking “Are you taking an underwater camera?” “No,” I replied. A barrage of text messages followed insisting that I take a camera with me.

“My husband has 2 go pro cameras and can outfit us both,” she said. I was not thrilled.

“Could I still enjoy my dives if I had to worry about getting good pictures or video footage?” I pondered. But she was insistent. So, I acquiesced.

“You’ll need to come over for lessons,” she texted. With a “let’s get this over with” smile, I endured the lessons; and at last, I thought she was pleased.

We departed Florida on a Friday night for this monumental adventure requiring three grueling days of travel to get to Indonesia. Our first stop was London. Exiting the plane, I could feel my heart racing. Since we could not quell our enthusiasm, we immediately went to the counter to check in for our next flight. We handed the agent our passports. She examined mine and was satisfied, then she examined Maya’s passport and raised her head with a serious expression.

“You will not be able to board the flight,” she stated matter of factly.

“What? Why?” Her passport would not be valid for 6 months beyond our day of arrival in Indonesia.

“You must be mistaken,” I cried. How could she have given me all that grief when she had not even examined her own? I was in disbelief. The agent asked whether I would be checking in alone.

“Alone?” My mind was spinning. “I was not going to make the rest of the trip alone!” Maya was already saying that she would just return home. I wanted to cry. This was her idea. Why would I go halfway around the globe to celebrate her birthday without her?

We stepped away from the counter reeling from shock and I convinced her to wake up her husband back in the states for help. He persuaded her to go to the embassy on Monday morning to renew her passport and purchase new plane tickets to get to Indonesia. She expected me to remain with her. I did not have the ability to do that. For some reason, leaving her in London was as traumatic for me as leaving home at 17 to join the Navy. My tears soaked my blouse as I waited alone for the next flight.

Although focusing on one leg of the trip at a time, traversing foreign airports alone for 3 days was unnerving. Yet, I made sure to text Maya every chance I got to give her tips to make her journey easier. More exhausted than when I spent a week training with Marines, I boarded a ferry crowded with commuters in Sorong, and prayed the end was in sight. A few hours later, a small dive boat belonging to the resort carried me the last mile or 10. Incredibly, the small boat ran out of gas and we had to be rescued, but no one panicked. Miraculously, I was immediately reinvigorated by the sheer remoteness and beauty of my final destination, the Eco Cove resort, and optimistic that the good would outweigh the bad in the end.

As the sun appeared to melt into the water on the first evening, the guests gathered for a beautifully presented dinner which also delighted our taste buds. A boisterous older gentleman declared the purpose for his trip was testing his waterproof camera housing prototype for the iphone X. When he asked for volunteers, everyone’s interest was evident, even mine.

Since Maya still had both go pro cameras, I agreed to try out his prototype as long as it wasn’t my iphone being subjected. Several calm, easy dives accommodated his mission. From my first certification dive onward, I always have the same sensation of awe sweep over me as I descend below the surface and marvel at the sheer miracle of breathing underwater. This time was no different. Plus, everywhere I trained my eyes, the colors seemed to beckon me and drew me in with the myriad of vivid hues, unusual shapes, textures and uncommon life forms to gawk at and enjoy. My experience was unparalleled. Our leisurely pace was sublime. I effortlessly took a few photos and allowed my approval to gush forth when we were back on the surface.

A message from Maya’s husband, when I awoke the next morning, said she had renewed her passport and was on her way. He also warned me that she would be a raging lunatic when she arrived. I tried to prepare myself, to no avail. I had already been immersed in this paradise for two glorious days. “Don’t worry.” I said, and then assured her “what you will experience under the water here will make you forget what it took to get here.” She responded with “why the hell is your stuff on my side of the room?” I glanced around not able to comprehend what she was speaking of. She pointed to the closet which was constructed on “her side” of the room. My empty suitcase was on the floor in the bottom of the closet. I gulped hard. “Could she be serious?” I thought. Her face told no lies. I quickly grabbed my suitcase and forced it in between my bed and the wall on “my side” of the room and then fastened my seatbelt.

After her first dive, Maya transformed somewhat because she too was impressed. The colors, varieties and number of fish were amazing. Indonesia is a beautiful example of the government protecting the resources of their territory. I am grateful that we happened upon the Spotted Wobbegong shark that day and that Maya was there as well. This species is also called a carpet shark because they lie on the bottom most of the time. It can grow to 6 feet long and still camouflages itself well. It is not a threat to humans if you were wondering. I used the iphone X in the camera housing that I had already become comfortable with to snap this photo.

Our time in Raja Ampat ended too quickly, but we were moving on to Bali. Maya had signed us up for a canyoning trip. We were taken by truck up a mountain and dropped off with guides and about 10 tourists. Outfitted with helmets, harnesses, and life vests, we proceeded to repel down rocks, jump from rock ledges, swing from ropes and slide down waterfalls. It was a full day excursion that I thought was fantastic. My friend, however, began grumbling after about the first 30 minutes. Suddenly, about halfway through the trip, Maya crossed her arms and demanded to be removed from the canyon immediately. The lead guide inclined his head toward her and calmly said “ma’am the only way to be done is to continue down. We do not have a helicopter that can come and pick you up.” Our group’s whooping and hollering drowned out her groaning and complaining the rest of the way.

Later that evening, she decided that she had been poisoned by the water and refused to go on our final excursion, a bicycle ride through the countryside the following morning which proved to be priceless. Thankfully, I had made an internal decision to enjoy every moment of this trip regardless of her behavior. I agreed to an exciting adventure and I was not going to allow it to be a regret. I succeeded. And, I have pictures to prove it. (Sly smile.)

Maya adamantly blamed me for her failure to check her passport because she was so concerned about mine and there seemed to be no positive way to continue this relationship. Consequently, I wrote her a sincere apology and bid her farewell. Nonetheless, I have her to thank for suggesting a trip to Indonesia, legendary dives, witnessing a Spotted Wobbegong shark, and traversing a canyon of waterfalls; but we will not be traveling together ever again.