Deep seated , ingrained, like rings within a tree trunk – the fear of water, being on it, being in it, trapped beneath it. Suffocating blanket panic, strength turns to mercury; wobbly and running everywhere. On the water a sailing boat gliding, protected by a boxy jacket, filled with styrofoam squares, each movement a squeaky consideration, moderate wind blows off my newly aquired Big M hat and without thought I launch from the back of the yacht that continues in a line for another 500 metres. As I thrash toward the sinking hat hands start to drag at my legs and feet and body , pulling me under, the life jacket rising up to my throat choking me, the water’s chill starting to seep in, it’s depth is a vacuum cleaner, sucking, sucking, heavier and heavier I become, weighing down, concrete blocks on my feet, the mafia have got me.
A crash boat zooms up, its wash running a flannel over my face reviving hope. Hands reach down to rescue me, I’m a bedraggled wet dog shivering and skampering wanting to ring my self out. Near the yacht I plunge into the deep again to revive the capsized boat. I am marooned again on the island of the hull, the centerboard becomes a diving board as I will the beast to re-appear from the depths. The ghostly sail rises dripping with glistening drops, the deck makes hollow sounds as I clamber back aboard and reset sails and foresail. Enough for one day.
Great Barrier Reef, a wetsuit and a life jacket. Suspended above a kaleidoscope of colour and movement, sound is blocked by lapping waves, looking down on the world in inverted periscope vision, wide screen view from the goggles, trumpeting snorkel, supplies me with life, rubbery suit grips me like a leach, hands are lightly chilled. Swarms of fish and skipping coral arrayed in unbelievable colours.
