[Right after Nick's bills lost to the giants and as my patriots were kicking the snot out of the cowgirls....]
Nick and I ventured to our backyard lagoons for a self-inflicted snorkeling excursion. Now, let's be honest, I'm more of a see-the-bottom & it-has-to-have-chlorine kind of swimmer, but for the sake of our marriage, I decided to at least try to endure the salty waters of the pacific.
The first attempt was an epic flop. Nick was very patient, as always, but I wasn't loving the fish swimming between my legs, and I didn't much like the swirls of sand and low visibility under water. What if a shark jumped the twenty foot rocks of the protected Disney lagoons and pulled me under water just as a giant squid sucked up Nick like he was tiny krill? Never mind that as soon as I put on the suffocating sea goggles and the snorkel, it was like I was breathing through a coffee stirrer.
Needless to say I didn't even get my hair wet.
Now, why Nick didn't just give up on me right there is a mystery and perhaps, for this story, a blessing as well. He suggested, instead, that we venture to a smaller lagoon just west of Ko Olina property. Naturally, my nerves gasped in unison and simultaneously fainted when I read the sign at the end of a ghetto-looking, sandy, loose-rock path.: "You are now exiting Ko Olina property. Enter at your own risk. Mahalo!"
[Starmer tangent] : It's amazing how cheery and "hang loose" even the most noxious of signs can sound when the infamous, hawaiian "Mahalo!" is added to the end of it (Mahalo means 'thank you'). Examples:
- Enter at your own risk. Mahalo!
- If you pass this point, we're not responsible if you die a painful, jellyfish death. Mahalo!
- If you fall on these rocks, we warned you ahead of time so you can't sue us. Mahalo!
- F*ck you. Mahalo!
Anyway, we entered at our own risk only to find a serene, nearly human-less lagoon on the other side. For this particular day, the sun was peaking behind clouds and the wind skidded off the ocean, prickling the hairs on our arms. When my toes reached the shoreline, I realized the water was far warmer than the air. I weighed my options carefully (getting eaten by a shark/giant squid vs. being wet and cold on the beach), and decided to risk my life in the most shallow part of the lagoon for the comfort of warmth.
Nick, again, was patient and loving. He helped me adjust my snorkel equipment and instructed that I watch for sea turtles in this particular lagoon. He swam ahead of me and I held onto his feet for full protection. Naturally, instead, I was looking for jelly fish and unidentified sea creatures who could attack at a moment's notice (and not for turtles).
At one point, I bustled my courage and swam away from Nick deeper into the lagoon. Schools of Finding Nemo types of fish darted around the rocks at the bottom. I glanced back at Nick to give him the "Hey! I'm doing it!" thumbs up, when I spotted a slimy-looking snail-ish water creature sucking on a rock. I cupped my hands and pushed myself through the water toward Nick, when I realized the current I created launched this slug-like sea creature (capable of mass destruction, I just know it) right at me. I screamed under water, which is obviously discouraged, and I inhaled copious amounts straight to the bowls of my lungs. That, I vowed, was it. I was ready to go shower and nap and swear off Hawaii oceans of all kinds.
Nick and I began to swim back to the edge of the lagoon when a little girl on the beach pointed about 10 yards in front of us. Nick and I stood up to look (you obviously can guess what I imagined she was pointing at), only to find two giant sea turtles gracefully swimming in the shallow waters. Nick and I swam out to the turtles and followed them underwater for about 10 minutes. They were so relaxed and so willing to co-exist with anything and everything, to include me and Nick and our funny-looking snorkel faces.
Now, let's discuss the demeanor of a sea turtle. Disney and Pixar set some pretty unrealistic expectations about fairy tales and good hair days, but the easiest way to describe the behavior of these turtles is to equate them directly to Crush, the sea turtle from Finding Nemo. If these turtles had a voice, they would have spoken like a true, Hawaii surfer stereotype. They probably would have looked at Nick and said: "Sup, brah?".
On Day 5 in our new, island home, it was an experience to be treasured.
Perhaps when you all come visit we shall go find these sea turtles together. Deke-- get your impersonation ready!
Until next time...
Me ke aloha
M.
You are hilarious and I am dying.
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