We have to leave right now, JT orders, as we take turns down below putting on dry clothes.
Nautilus Cove is way out there. I think I have just enough gas to get us there and back.
Where is it? I ask, as I zip up my hoodie and climb up on the deck. Northwest, near the edge of the gyre. I won’t know until sunrise since garbage patch is constantly moving, but I have a pretty good idea I can find it.
JT starts the engine, switches on the bright flood lights and puts the Sailing Queen in gear. He keeps talking as we head out…
It’s an isolated cove shaped like a nautilus shell, untouched by tourists, but it really gets its name because, there are rough ridges of rock, patterned like chambers in a nautilus shell under the water’s surface. Boating in can rip the bottom off of your boat leaving it beyond repair. What’s really amazing is it’s a feeding frenzy for the birds, because the tide pools are full of the stuff birds like to eat. So…we’ll have to anchor at the mouth of the cove and walk in.
Okay, I reply as I upload my only image of the woman lighting the coral reefs. Plug in your batteries, too, yells JT and let’s have another beer, I am a nervous wreck.
A couple of swigs of beer and I ask a calmer JT, did you think you could talk to her through your grandma’s shell, I ask. I don’t know what I thought. The bright light zapped me, too, but not as bad. I reacted and grabbed the shell at my neck. I just didn’t want her to go…so something—an instinct, I guess—I just yelled through it!
JT takes another swallow, I knew my grandmother was special—-but this! He scratches his head, shaking it in disbelief and blurts out…she must have been a goddess in a prior life. We clink a toast to the heavens.
The rest of night we travel at a steady speed to save fuel and carefully because we can see only as far as the flood lights on the dark, inky black surface. I finish by beer, wishing instead for a bourbon and curl up on the bridge to help JT stay awake.
The sun just breaks the horizon. JT anchors us at the opening. He guessed right, it is low tide. We pack up and start hiking in, climbing up on a ridge so I can see the nautilus shape cove with its ravaging tide pool ridges.
Looking down, I see “the sitting duck” vulnerability of the inhabitants of the pools, and a greater danger lurking for the birds. The crevices of rock are littered with bottle caps, toothbrushes, pill jars, shreds of styrofoam and bright colored debris— that is decayed and unrecognizable from its source, but a promising lure for a bird.
All kinds of birds are swooping down, scavenging—many mistaking plastics for food.
I wanted to scream “Don’t eat that”, but it’s hopeless to even phantom that my yelling would prevent this man made atrocity.
JT grabs me and points up ahead. Nestled in the sand dunes is a woman sitting at the water’s edge. She is holding a bird, touching it, soothing it. From its open beak, it regurgitates plastic objects into her hand. She clenches tightly, waves her hand and the items disappear into thin air. The bird flies away, only to be replaced by another.
The birds are attracted to her and this reclamation act is memorizing as she gracefully holds each bird until it is rid of its ingested plastics.
I frame her from my high vantage point, to capture this intervention and as I release the shutter, she looks up as though she knew all along I was there. I stop. We lock eyes through the camera. I lower my camera. We walk down to meet Maia.
She greets us. I was expecting you. My sister Alycone told me about last night. Sit with me. Maia’s voice is soft yet firm and mesmerizing. Seated, she asks our names, captivated about JT’s name: Jack Thalassa. She says to him, you know your name means “aloft at sea”. He shakes his head, I only know it is Greek, from my father’s side.
And the shell she points to on his neck. Oh, yeah my grandmother gave it to me. Wise woman, Maia replies. Do you know what the name of your boat means, she continues. Yup, it means Sailing Queen, and Maia leans forward and says, it is also the name of our mother —Pleione.
We, sisters, have been watching you and your boat, following you. You respect the ocean and we know the good deeds you have done to preserve her. JT puts his hand over his heart and says thank you.
It is my turn to ask a question. Maia, I thought so….you are one of the seven Plieades sisters? Why are you here?
Yes, and we are the Sisters Pleiades, daughters of Atlas and Pleione. We are here to save the ocean. It was once our home when we lived on earth. It was a beautiful body of water, full of life, nourishment, adventure as well as mystery and of course danger.
Maia asks…Why have humans ruined the sea? Don’t they realize without the ocean, they will soon be dead?
JT and I nod, agreeing helplessly to the chaos called plastic.
Maia…Where did you come from? As she begins to speak, each sister emerges from the water and sits beside her.
We came from our exiled home in the sky. Six of us made it safely. Taygete gave you one of our shells, Electra, I am afraid scared you when she rode the whale to pull off the ghost net; Celaeno tries to keep the turtles safe and I told her to ask you to leave us alone. But Alycone, knew by your determination, that we had no choice but to tell you the truth…so here we are…together for the same purpose.
Talking for hours, it became evident that even if they stayed forever, both they would be in danger and perhaps a liability to their very purpose, when the reason for their journey from the heavens was to save the ocean from pollution. Soon a sixth woman steps out of the water.
Maia said, This is Merope. She wants us to try one more thing before we go home…
Merope begins. Plastic turns into billions of pieces called micro particles. They are throughout the food chain and humans now have them in their bodies as well as even more lie on the bottom of the sea. I’m going to gather them up and send them up into the heavens for our remaining sister, Asterope to receive them. Using her powers, she’ll melt the particles into stars, release the glowing orbs into the cosmos—where they will do no more harm on earth.
Maia adds, we want you to record this as you have each of us…and hold the images in safekeeping for a time when it becomes necessary for you to reveal our visit and tell our story.
Hopefully, through your photographs, humans might become more aware and take action.
We now know we cannot do this alone.
Only the people of the world can make the ocean clean again.