The day we chose to dive Peleliu was perfect, just like the 364 other days a year on the paradise that is Palau. The sun, protesting my sleeping eyes, streamed in through the windows gently prodding me from my the night before Christmas sleep. Eyes open, I hopped out of the bed and opened the door to find Ain, hand poised in mid knock fully suited up and ready to go. "You ready?" he inquired, but I could tell that he knew before the words left his mouth that HELL YES BITCHES I WAS READY TO DIVE, which I succinctly translated into: "Let me hop in the shower five minutes you grab the keys to Vanessa and we'll stop at Yano's on the way and get some sushi for breakfast oh and I need some V8 meet you in five, five minutes,okay?" My excitement and anticipation was bigger than me, bursting out in my words and gestures, leaving Ain standing there looking at me as if I had regressed into the little crack monkey I was at five. The answer? A little. Any day in Palau is made better by diving.
My crack monkey behavior had a precedent - this was not my first time diving Peleliu, or even my second. I had first been there a little over a year ago, with a diving group composed of 10 of my really good friends. A bonus. As we drove up with Jack at the wheel (a young Palauan captain, with whom I was flirtingly entangled at one point) there were dolphins leading us in to the drop off. I hung off the front of the boat, Carita next to me, with Scotty standing protectively behind us lest we fall in, fingers splashing in the water, trying to touch them. Laughing out loud. There are very few times in my past that I can remember laughing out loud out of sheer glee. Such an unadulterated emotion. But Peleliu was one of those times, and the dolphins were just the beginning. After two spectacular dives in which we spotted a big "fucking" tiger shark - all communicated underwater by doing the required hip thrusts and fin on the head sign language - and watched the fish dart hither and yon and sang ABBA really loud at the top of our lungs and sunned ourselves on the back of the boat while Jack sped through the seemingly endless blue and just laughed and enjoyed each other as only true friends can, we experienced a comfortable lull.
"What would make this day perfect, for you Ariel?" Vern asked. She was leaving. This was our goodbye dive.
"I think I'd like to see a whale. Captain! I'd like to order one whale please! Make her big, and preferably not shy so we can get super close."
We laughed at the silliness of this request, knowing that the day had been perfection already. Not 40 minutes later, Jack suddenly spun the wheel left, jerking us out of our sun induced stupors. "Jack! What the hell are you doing?" But he just remained quiet, as he was wont to do, driving us as fast as he could towards the horizon. 1 minute, 2 minutes, 3 minutes, 4 and we were still veering off course. Maybe he was driving us to the edge of the world. I can't honestly say that I would have cared at that minute. And then I saw it. A tiny little spray of water...I began to jump and down in the boat. "Whatisthatwhatisthatwhatisthat?" I yelled incoherently over Scotty and Ron's insistent voices that I sit down or go flying out and if that were a whale, they weren't coming back. I sat. For about 30 seconds.
Jack slowed the boat and turned the motor off, allowing us to coast up to the biggest most majestic thing I have ever seen in my whole life. A female sperm whale, suspending time for us with her own surface time. I was speechless. I ran to the bow of the boat with the rest of my friends and marveled. Have you ever seen a whale? Up close? Ron, probably the only one who was in his right mind at the time, grabbed his camera and started shooting while the rest of us sang ABBA to her "If you change your mind, I'm the first in line," we all shouted, begging her to stay.
And she did, for about 15 minutes. Until some jackass who will remain nameless decided to suit up and get in the water with her despite our group insistence that it would scare her off. Jackass. She departed soundlessly, choosing not to shame him with her massiveness. "It's amazing seeing something that big move with such ease under the water!" he dripped onto the boat while we stared at him with contempt. "Easy for you to say, jacka..." I started, but was silenced by Ron, who said, "What a great day!" and we went with that. And because it was my favorite, but also Vern's favorite and Carita's favorite, we sang ABBA all the way home while Jack steered us over the waves and reefs and back to Palau. Completely content.
Because I was young, and drawn to men who were bad for me, I spent a great deal of my time being unhappy while I was on the mainland. Every time I came to Palau, I was transformed. Mentally, physically - the waters were healing for me. I kayaked and hiked and jumped and crawled and lost myself in MYSELF, no men attatched. I was probably Alex in her truest form. And you know what? I had a motherfucking blast. Because I was still young, however, I attributed the happiness to the location and company (which helped a great deal, don't get me wrong) but missed the strength in myself. And the possibility of that glee and that relax and that content was the precise reason that I couldn't wait to dive Peleliu again.
"Youreadytogo?" I hounded Ain, following around in between gathering up my stuff, because as any competent reader can ascertain, he was ready to go YESTERDAY. "Yes! Let's go!" he replied. We bid adieu to Dad and hopped into the car, not knowing that we wouldn't be driving back home until nearly 20 hours later.
I'm stopping here. Don't hate me because I'm long winded.
Geeez!! You need to stop doing that! LOL
This is a great story, btw! You're such a great storyteller. :)
It was worth the wait ;) Very good story and you told it so well too!
Closest I have come to seeing a whale is Sea World - not quite the same thing ;)