“You really want to see seahorses, do you?”
Mr. Roberts asked after they’d all come back to the boat for a rest.
“More than anything else,” said Sarah.
“There’s some thick seagrass growing just off the far side of the island. I’ve seen them in there. I’ve also seen the odd seadragon there.”
“Seadragon?” said Sarah, her brow furrowing.
“You like seahorses,” said Mr. Roberts, “you’ll love seadragons. They’re very rare, and found only in these waters. Only place in the world, as a matter of fact. They’re like seahorses – both are what they call pipefish – only a million times more exotic. There’s two types – the Weedy Seadragon and the Leafy Seadragon, which is even weirder-looking. Think of something that’s half seahorse and half Christmas tree and you’ll be close. Once you see one, you’ll never forget it.”
“And they’re here!” Sarah said.
“I’ve seen some. Can’t guarantee it, but if you and the other kids want to try fitting on that scuba equipment in the hold, I’ll take you down for a look.”
“YESSSS!” Sarah shouted, then immediately blushed with embarrassment.
Travis wasn’t certain it was such a good idea. Sure, they knew how to scuba dive, but their only experience had been in the town pool, where the greatest danger lay in slipping on the soap in the shower. Here, there were moray eels and poisonous jellyfish and stingrays and killer puffers and, of course, the most dangerous shark in the oceans, the Great White.
But Mr. Roberts and Wiz said they knew the reef and the island and the seaweed beds beyond as well as they knew their own backyard.
“Better!” said Wiz. “The only time I’m ever in the backyard is when I’m mowing the lawn!”
Mrs. Roberts and the others set off in the inflatable boat across the coral reef to the beach. Mr. Roberts, Wiz, Sarah, Nish, and Travis pulled up the anchor and took a wide, safe sweep around the island before anchoring again.
The light was different here. Instead of bouncing and rippling off the bottom, it seemed to die in a dark green ebbing and flowing mass that was the seagrass.
They suited up, checked their air, and dropped again into the water. They went down deep and stayed deep. The only sound Travis could hear was coming from his own bubbles.
Travis found the training coming back to him. The tank at first felt cumbersome on his back, but soon he grew used to it and he could slip along the bottom almost like the ray Nish had been riding. A small shift of his shoulders and he could turn; a single flick of one flipper and he could shift directions. In and out of the seaweed clumps he twisted and turned, feeling more a part of the ocean than he had imagined possible.
There were small fish everywhere, bright silvery ones that moved in huge schools, rainbow-coloured ones that slipped in and out of coral caves. Sarah and Wiz came across a school – a herd? – of seahorses and waved the others over, and they watched the funny little creatures almost bouncing along the currents as they moved through the seagrass.
To his far left Travis saw Mr. Roberts signalling. He had his finger up to his mouthpiece. He wanted them to move carefully.
Down into the waving grass they followed him, until he came to a stop before a large clump growing above a huge chunk of white coral.
He parted several strands and pointed.
Inside, moving along a floating blade of grass, was the strangest creature Travis had ever seen.
It looked a bit like a seahorse that had been through a wringer. Its head was miniature, its “ears” seemed like something from a space movie. It looked as if it were dressed all over in little leaves, the greenish gold fronds fluttering like hummingbird wings as the slender creature moved.
Mr. Roberts held out a finger and the seadragon cozied up to it, wrapping its odd leafy tail about his finger. He moved the exquisite little creature over directly in front of Sarah’s mask.
Travis could see Sarah’s eyes. They were wide and as alive as the creature itself. She was in love!
Wiz pointed off in the distance. There were more seadragons moving through the grasses. He pointed again. More still!
They split up. Wiz, Nish, and Travis followed a small group of seadragons as they moved, half swimming, half drifting, along a steep slope down into deeper waters, where more weed rippled in the distance. It seemed there were seadragons everywhere. They floated around the boys like falling snowflakes.
Wiz pointed to a huge green turtle that had been roused by the human invaders and was quickly moving away along the sandy bottom.
The boys gave chase, just able to keep pace with their flippers. He was huge, big enough for them all to hitch a ride on, and they began chasing harder.
The turtle turned sharply, vanishing under a mass of weed and through a narrow gap in the rocks.
Wiz made the turn perfectly.
Nish missed, and took the long way around.
Travis followed Wiz, reaching out to grab the rocks and propel himself through the opening.
Wiz had caught the turtle by one large fin. He was indicating that Travis should take the other.
Travis moved swiftly. He seized the large flipper and was instantly surprised by the strength of the animal. But he held fast.
The turtle kept swimming, oblivious to his two hitchhikers. They were moving quickly. Travis turned, and Wiz gave a thumbs-up with his free hand. Travis didn’t have the confidence to loosen his grip, so he smiled a burst of bubbles. Wiz laughed, his face vanishing in his own bubbles.
It was like flying. Over banks of coral and down tight to the sand they sped. Through long funnels of grass and in between the rocks.
Finally Wiz let go, and Travis did the same. The turtle, without so much as a look back, vanished into the deeper, darker waters.
The two boys turned towards each other, laughing and high-fiving until they realized they were alone.
No Nish.