They cruised for nearly two hours, the sun warming their backs and dancing off the crests of the gentle swells. It was a beautiful day, the sky sprinkled with curious gulls riding the wind currents high above the boat and the air so warm the kids were soon stripped down to just their swimsuits and a thick layer of sunscreen.
Mr. and Mrs. Roberts were the kind of parents a kid only dreams of: rock music blared from speakers set up on either side of the bridge, the cooler was never out of cold pop, and they had enough chocolate bars and licorice to satisfy even the world’s number-one sweet tooth, which belonged, of course, to Nish.
Nish was holding up well. He had his Oakley sunglasses sitting perfectly on the peak of his brand-new Billabong baseball cap. He had his Mighty Ducks swimsuit on, and he lay, stomach down, on a huge beach towel, his legs waving in the air while he pounded out the beat on the deck with one fist and held a giant half-eaten Oh Henry! chocolate bar in the other.
Nothing green about Nish’s gills, Travis thought. At least not yet.
Nish, however, was not the centre of attention. That honour went to Wiz, who was entertaining the girls with a little air concert, hopping around the deck on one foot while he picked out a wild imaginary guitar solo. Sam and Sarah and Jenny were all up and dancing to the music. Fahd had a couple of wooden salad spoons out and was playing along on the drums. Mrs. Roberts must have noticed the salad spoons, but she was saying nothing. Wiz and his new friends were welcome to enjoy themselves any way they wished.
“Up ahead!” Mr. Roberts shouted from the bridge.
Travis got up from the towel where he was lying beside Nish and put his hand above his eyes, trying to shield them from the sun. It was almost impossible to see, the way the sun was skipping off the waves, but eventually the boat swung to the port side and Travis was able to make out what lay ahead.
It was an island out of a movie. It lay like a pearl-encircled emerald in the sparkling blue ocean. The sand looked almost white. On each side rocks rose from the sand up to a plateau, where trees seemed to wave at them in the light wind coming out of the east.
Mr. Roberts let up on the throttle and eased farther to port, as though he planned to circle the island. Travis couldn’t understand why. If ever he had seen a natural landing site, it was dead ahead, on the sand.
“There’s the reef!” Mrs. Roberts yelled out. She was leaning over the bow, straining to see, golden curls – exactly the same as Wiz’s – bouncing in the wind.
Mr. Roberts nodded and swung the wheel hard, bringing the boat around in a full circle.
“Drop anchor!” he shouted.
Wiz immediately set to work. He called Fahd and Travis over to help him throw the anchor over the side, then pushed a button that released the anchor cable. The anchor struck the bottom, and he pushed the button again, setting it securely.
The boat slowed and stopped, rocking in the gentle waves.
“We’re going to dive here!” Mr. Roberts called down to the kids. “After, we’ll take the inflatable in to the beach for a little picnic. Okay?”
“O-kay!” the Owls shouted together.
Wiz was already hauling out the gear. There were masks, fins, snorkels, gloves, even a couple of large underwater flashlights.
“You’ve all snorkelled before?” Mr. Roberts asked.
“Sure.”
“Yeah.”
“Travis and Nish and I have our scuba diving certificates,” Sarah said.
“You do?” Mrs. Roberts said, surprised.
“But we’ve only ever done it in a pool,” added Travis.
“Well,” Mr. Roberts said, pleased. “Wiz and I dive, too. And I think we’ve got enough equipment to go around – maybe the five of us will get out if we’ve time.”
First, though, they snorkelled. The three girls went with Mr. Roberts, the three boys with Wiz, all of them advised not to touch a thing unless either Mr. Roberts or Wiz said it was all right. Mrs. Roberts would stay in the boat so she could help out in an emergency.
“I’ve a good book,” she told them. “I’m perfectly happy right here.”
Travis put his equipment on, sat on the ledge just above the water at the stern, and let himself fall in backwards, the same way he’d been taught to enter the water while scuba diving.
But he’d never felt water like this before. It seemed, somehow, brighter and lighter than any water he had swum in before. He’d snorkelled all over his grandparents’ little lake at the cottage, but that water was dark even if you looked at it in a glass, and it was impossible to see down more than ten or twelve feet. This was more like a pool – but better. He could taste the saltwater on his lips. He could feel it stinging where he’d scraped his shin on the coffee table in the hotel room. But it also felt so clean, almost as if he were being scrubbed by the ocean as he moved through it with his head down, his arms dangling by his side, and his legs lightly kicking.
It seemed he could see forever. The light slipped and shook down through the water and bounced off the bottom. He could see plants moving, and fish – more fish than he had ever imagined possible – moving in and out of coral banks that were themselves so vibrant he could barely believe the colours.
There were pink and orange sponges, all of them moving so slowly in the water it seemed they were swaying to music. There were brilliant fire-red beds of soft coral, and dark, brainlike stands of hard coral. Wiz used a thumbs-up or thumbs-down signal to let them know what could be lightly touched and what should be avoided. It seemed to Travis that half the creatures they were seeing had stingers. He wondered how Wiz ever kept them all straight. He hoped he could.
With Wiz leading the way, they moved into shallower waters and began diving down to pick up shells and crabs and examine them. At one point Wiz grabbed a green turtle by the back legs and swam with it, aiming towards Nish, who turned suddenly, screamed a huge wall of bubbles, and headed fast for the surface. A moment later, he was back down again, as enchanted by the colours and light and sea creatures as the rest of them.
The two groups swam together for a while. Wiz dove down deep and came back up with a large orange sea star, which he handed to Sarah. She took it as if it were a flower and gently carried it back to the bottom and set it down.
A shadow moved off to the right!
Travis turned, startled. A huge ray was swimming beside him, the fin closest to Travis lifting like a huge, lazy wing as it turned away.
Mr. Roberts expertly grabbed onto the ray as it passed, a hand on each of the huge fish’s “shoulders,” and rode it along for a while.
He signalled Nish to come and join him.
Nish scrambled deeper, his motions rough and awkward compared to the extraordinary elegance of the big fish.
Mr. Roberts held the ray tight while Nish placed his hands where Mr. Roberts’ had been. Once Nish had a grip, Mr. Roberts let go.
The big fish moved off, hauling Nish, kicking madly, with it. It saw Sarah and Sam, drifting just in front while they watched and laughed at Nish, and it turned abruptly, almost throwing him off.
But Nish held tight. The ray came straight at Travis, saw him, and banked again. Travis stared into his friend’s face. He saw fear and total joy at the same time.
Nish opened his mouth wide, bubbles scattering.
Travis heard a muffled roar, Nish shouting.
“KAAAAAA-(gulp)-WWWAAAAAA-(gulp)-BUNGAAAA!”