Get a Grip

As I rise up to the surface, JT’s face is right there—under the water—leaning over mine. We almost bump our heads. I spit out my snorkel and water lands all over him. He jumps back. WTF, as he wipes his face.

Hey…did you see that? I hope you got some good pics lady…it was amazing…I’ve never seen a whale jump that high! Where did that woman come from?…Where did she go?…..

Hey to you! Back up—give me some space! Oh, sure…no problem and he withdraws while I wrestle in the water with the fins….JT is pacing now, but not grumbling…he’s just rapid firing more questions.

JT…Gimme me a hand, I command and he turns. I am halfway up the ladder. He rushes over to help me and I say no…no…no…not me…the camera!  I hand him my camera. He gently cups it in his hands. I climb out and plop down on a bench.

So I am not that crazy lady anymore, I question him as I remove my snorkel and goggles. 

Noooooo, you are not…you are right…there is something going on down there. 

He carefully walks the camera over to the bench. As I take off my wetsuit, I utter…well…that’s a twist! A man telling a woman she’s right…don’t hear that often! I shake my head.

Oh, don’t be so Miss Smarty Pants…anyway you knew you were right, JT quips and I further let him know that he didn’t believe me until he saw her with his own eyes. He nods and shrugs his shoulders.

Well, I guess for most people, seeing is believing, I whisper under my breath. Then, he politely asks with the sweetest tone…can we look at what you photographed?

Sure… I motion for him to sit next to me. We go through the camera roll. It is truly unbelievable, and if we both hadn’t seen it for ourselves…Well, the realization washes over us— we now have proof. It is undeniable. There are people living under the garbage patch, saving the sea creatures who have become tangled in all the debris.

Our eyes land on one that we both agree is it! I immediately wi-fi it to the cloud as I did the first one, just in case something unforeseeable might happen. 

JT jumps up and proclaims! You need to send it to all the news outlets and we can be interviewed and I can verify that it is all real. The world needs to know about this amazing pheee-nom-e-non! The news crews can come, see for themselves….

Hold up here Mister Smarty Pants…as I push my hand in front of his mouth to stop his talking…Get a grip, JT!  

That’s the worst thing we could do right now. One, we need to find these women and talk to them—if we can? Two, we need to know the how - what - why…we already know the where. If we publicize the photos it will be the old fish that got away tale. Every looky-loo will show up in these waters and some might want to catch them and do God knows what! Others might think we made this up and it is a hoax using Photoshop! Right now only we know the truth. I continue…

You need to promise me you won’t tell a soul…it could be dangerous for all of us, but especially those beneath the sea. 

Instantly the color and excitement drains from his face…Ok, you’re right again. 

Are we going out tomorrow? he asks.

YES! I nod.

We start back to port quietly talking about what only we know.


You swear you didn’t tell anyone?  I ask him the next morning as we are loading his boat. Honest to God…I told no one… Good, I say…me either. I brought some food and drinks along…I got hungry out there yesterday. Great…he says. We raise anchor and start out.

Hey JT…going out again…that’s two days in a row, shouts a guy from a boat coming into port. We past him and JT replies. Yeah, showing this lady the sights so she can take some pretty pictures LOL… 

I smirk at JT but yell back in a girly voice…Got any great places for me to make my pretty pictures?

Yeah…head northwest. I saw some giant turtles swimming out that way early this morning…you might see some, if they’re still there!

Thanks for the tip, I yell back and JT waves. We both look at each other knowingly as he turns the boat northwest.

I get to ride on the bridge now. I tell JT how the giant turtles mistake white plastic grocery bags for jellyfish. He nods his head and adds that where we are headed always has schools of jellyfish. He kicks the engine up. I hold on as the boat’s speed jerks us forward.

Pointing…there they are port side, I say and instantly we lean hard into a left turn. JT gets close and kills the engine as we float into a large group of swimming turtles. 

There’s all sizes and shapes diving and surfacing and it seems to me they are playing. JT says they are feeding. Look…starboard side…jellyfish! He starts the boat up and swings right.

The engine’s noise causes every thing under the surface to scatter. Port side, I see the wake we created, and suddenly up head, out of the blue, a giant turtle surfaces with a woman on its shell.

JT sees it, too! He revs the engine to full throttle to catch up, hoping to pull along side, but the turtle is too fast and both are too far ahead. Chasing it, I wrap my left arm around the railing and brace myself on the rocking boat, trying to sync with the movement, yet with each wave, we bounce up and land hard.

He’s getting me closer, but we are so far out now in open waters. The woman is struggling to stay on the turtle while trying to pull the plastic bag from the turtle’s vise gripped mouth. Keeping pace with her now, I flow with the boat, capturing as fast as I can this phenomenon. 

She’s got the bag out his mouth yells JT. She’s letting go! Stop the boat, I scream and hold my camera. I scramble down the stairs, kick off my sneakers and dive head first into the water.

I see her ahead. I swim frantically, forgetting to breathe. I am catching up so I touch my shell at my neck and holler…STOP! She turns, She heard me. She treads water as I continue to swim— commanding her to stop. 

I can’t…I hear her through the shell. Keep away from us she warns, and with that she dives deep into the water and swiftly swims off. There’s no way for me to follow her and I don’t trust the shell to supply me air.

Oh my God, JT…I talked with her through my shell underwater, I tell him as he hands me a towel on the deck. You what…you can communicate through that thing on your neck? Wow!

Yeah, it’s what saved my life the first time and I thought I just dreamed its power, but it’s true…I can talk with them. No way…replies JT, shaking his head, and I just know he is thinking crazy lady.

Ok…crazy lady with talking shell…we are too far out to make port so I am going to anchor over in this cove I know for the night. We can head out tomorrow first thing to look for turtle girl. OK?

Yeah, I am cold and tired. I going down below to rest and warm up, then I’ll eat something. The hum of the engine rocks me to sleep and I relive my discovery in a restless dream only to awaken to a gentle, soothing motion of the boat. I step onto the deck to find a beautiful cove bathed in golden hour light. JT’s popping open a beer. I get one too, and we sit down to cold sandwiches, chips and cookies.

JT…how did you come to wear the same sea shell that I have, I ask as we start our second round of beers. It was my Greek grandmother’s. She gave it to me during a time I didn’t know what to do with my life. She said “ pnévma tis zoís” which roughly translated means spirit of life. Soon after her death, I bought this boat and here I am the Captain of the Sailing Queen.

I wonder if you can communicate with your shell under the water? I ask him. Now you are truly the crazy lady…let’s finish these beers and turn in for the night. Where do you want to bunk?

I want to sleep out underneath the stars, I say as he gets me a bedroll and pillow from the box at the bow. 

Ok, I am sleeping down below. Good night.

A couple of beers usually puts me right to sleep, but not tonight. I make my bed on the bow’s deck and lie down looking up. I can see all the planets, moving satellites, and the star constellations. The Pleiades cluster is especially bright. I imagine all the sailors that used them to navigate across the Pacific. I can’t turn my mind off.

Restless, I get up and say…what the heck…another beer won’t hurt me. I start to twist the cap and I see a glowing light moving under the water about 100 feet from the boat. There are no other boats anchored in the cove. I put the beer down, moving closer to the edge. 

There’s a woman down below illuminating the coral with a blue light. Ok, but where did she come from? She has no snorkel or fins or any scuba gear. She moves effortlessly along the bottom, never coming up for air.


JT, wake up as I hold my hand over his mouth. Ssshush…don’t say a word. I lift my hand.

I think there is another one of our mysterious women swimming starboard side, lighting up the coral. No gear and no visible breathing devices. Be real quiet. Go topside and see for yourself. 

Creeping ever so softly, we sneak to the edge, peering over. She’s moved closer!

What do you want to do, he whispers. I’m going to slip into the water. I’ll take the camera, I hope to make contact through my shell.

I’m going with you, asserts JT. I nod ok. Just be quiet and stay back…two people might scare her away. In slow motion, we put on snorkels and goggles. I strap the camera on my chest, checking—I‘ve still got battery power. Over the port side we slide into the water without making a sound.

Stealthy stroking, we approach. JT is behind me about 10 feet. I see her and the moment is one not to miss. Get it now kicks in. I frame and shoot. The flash did what I thought. Startled, she zaps me with her light. I am stunned and blinded. JT breaks through the light and I see him swim pass me. 

He touches his shell and yells…STOP…we don’t want to hurt you! Why are you here? Please tell us. I put my finger on my shell only to hear.

You humans need to stop…killing the ocean. We are trying to help you. Don’t hurt us.

We’re not here to hurt anyone, we want to know who you are, why you are living here, I say.  pressing the shell, I can see now. Tell us so we can help you. We just want to understand….

My sisters and I swore not to tell anyone. Only Maia can speak the truth. 

Where can we find Maia? asks JT. 

Swimming backwards, this mysterious woman says, “Early every morning she’s saving the birds in Nautilus Cove.”

Turning quickly and with one strong kick, the dark waters envelop her disappearance.