Adventures in Swimming

February 2nd

Moses accompanies us on a hike to the summit of Kuata. He heads up most of the activities on the island. The view is breathtaking and surreal. The rain holds off until we start back down, light at first, then pouring. I have my bathing suit on, as I'd been intending on going swimming. Moses says it's the perfect time, as we're all soaked, and that he'd join me.

The rain stops and the late afternoon sun breaks through the clouds as we hit the beach. It's bathwater warm and clear blue, but shallow. I ask if we can go out farther. Moses says it's deeper around the bend. We walk along the beach and clamber over some rocks. The volcanic surface is black, slightly slick, and sharp. Not at all easy on the feet.

I come across what looks like two crabs in a tide pool -- one reddish, one green. Moses tells me to touch the green one's body; it's soft. The reddish one is his recently molted shell.

We climb a bit further before Moses kicks off his sandals, drops his walking stick, and jumps in. I follow. The water is very salty. At first, I think that maybe the icy cold of the Atlantic diverts attention from the saline level of the water, but it is much easier to float here. And oh, do my eyes sting! We swim along the black cliffs and lush green mountains.

Moses stops to take a rest at a shallower point. Not much good for me: he's over half a foot taller and the waves are getting bigger. I can touch at the bottom of the swell, only to get a mouthful of sea water with the crest. It's starting to get dark and I'm antsy to head back. We had left before 6pm and have easily been out for 45 minutes, likely more; I don't want to miss dinner.

I turn to head back when THWACK! my left foot slams into something hard. I try to see whether it's rock or coral, but the salt burns and I can't tell. I look at my foot; it's red and bleeding, but the waves make it impossible to tell beyond that. It doesn't hurt at first, but then it starts to sting.

My mind races as I keep swimming. Put papaya or meat tenderizer on cuts from fire coral. Good, there are papaya trees right by the beach. But it doesn't burn or itch, so it's probably not that.
What was it about live coral? Take it out? Or don't take it out. Well, there's a barrel of insight. How can you not remember which it is?! Because I really didn't think I'd be kicking coral regularly, geesh.

This back-and-forth is interrupted by a yelp from Moses, followed by cursing. I swim back. He hit his knee on a big rock, aggravating an old rugby injury, and can't move his foot. I circle, asking if I can help, and fighting not to think about the sharks we were going to see snorkeling tomorrow out on the reef or the rapidly-darkening sky.

Moses tells me I'll have to climb up where we jumped off to grab his stuff and he'll meet me further down. I make it back to the rock face and time it to catch the top of the wave -- 1, 2, 3 -- giving me about a 2ft leg-up. Moses pulls himself out of the water further down and limps along the beach with his walking stick, the whole time lamenting that he wouldn't be able to dance after dinner. Who would teach the guests The Bula Dance?!

But an hour later, there he was, full smiles if only favoring his left leg a little.

***

Exhausted from a day of travel and adventure, I hit the hay hard at 9pm. I wake up in the middle of the night to a dog howling and the pitchest black I've ever experienced. My rickety top bunk sways with every move Sariya makes below, rocking me back to sleep with the crashes of waves.

[My foot is fine, just some nasty scrapes.]