Page 52 of Broken Secrets
We’re both trying not to laugh too hard when I notice something that makes me grab Derek’s arm and point excitedly. A ray is gliding through the far edge of the clearing, its wing-like fins undulating in perfect rhythm with the current.
The ray is magnificent, easily four feet across, with a mottled brown pattern that helps it blend with the sandy bottom. It moves with effortless grace, occasionally stirring up small clouds of sand as it searches for food. Derek and I watch in silence,both of us instinctively holding our breath even though we’re breathing through snorkels.
Dr. Cole swims over to us and follows our gaze to the ray. He gives us an enthusiastic “okay” signal, then points to his eyes and then to the ray, indicating we should keep watching. The ray seems unbothered by our audience, continuing its leisurely hunt across the sandy clearing.
Derek pulls out his disposable camera and manages to get several shots of the ray, though I suspect they’ll mostly show a brown blur against sand. Underwater photography is harder than it looks, especially when your subject is moving and you’re trying not to get too close.
After what feels like hours but is probably only twenty minutes, Dr. Cole signals that it’s time to surface. We follow the kelp canopy back toward shallower water, moving slowly to avoid decompression issues and to savor every last moment of the underwater experience.
Breaking the surface feels like emerging from a dream. The sounds of the surface world, waves, wind, boat engines in the distance, seem harsh and intrusive after the muffled quiet of the kelp forest. Derek and I bob in the gentle swells, pushing our masks up onto our foreheads.
“That was incredible,” he says, and his voice sounds strange after communicating primarily through hand signals and facial expressions.
“I can’t believe that’s been down there the whole time, just existing without us knowing about it.” I look back down through the clear water, where the kelp continues its slow dance far below. “It’s like a secret world.”
“A secret world that we got to visit.” Derek reaches for my hand, and this time there’s no practical reason for the contact, it’s pure affection. “Did you see how the ray moved? Like it was flying underwater.”
“And those silver fish that surrounded us. I felt like we were inside a snow globe, except the snow was alive and making decisions.”
Dr. Cole appears beside us, floating easily in the swells. “How was your first kelp forest dive?”
“Life-changing,” I answer without thinking, then realize how dramatic that sounds. But looking at Derek’s expression, I can see he feels the same way.
“That’s the correct response,” Dr. Cole says with a grin. “Wait until you see what’s deeper in the forest. We’re just getting started.”
We swim back toward the research station dock, but slowly, reluctant to leave the water. Other students are surfacing around us, all talking excitedly about what they’ve seen. Maya appears near us, her mask askew and her expression somewhere between thrilled and overwhelmed.
“Did you see the orange fish that kept following me around?” she calls out. “It was like having an underwater stalker, but in a good way.”
“Garibaldi,” Derek and I say simultaneously, then look at each other and laugh.
“You two are already finishing each other’s sentences about fish,” Maya observes. “That’s either really cute or really nerdy. Maybe both.”
As we reach the shallower water near the dock, Derek and I help each other out of our fins and masks. There’s an intimacy to the process that feels new, untangling equipment, checking each other for kelp caught in hair or gear, the casual touches that come with being diving buddies.
“Your mask left marks,” Derek says, gently touching the red indentations around my eyes.
“So did yours. We look like reverse raccoons.”
“Sexy reverse raccoons.”
On the dock, we sit side by side, our legs dangling in the water, wetsuit hoods pulled down, hair damp and probably ridiculous. Other students are scattered along the dock in similar states of post-dive contentment, everyone processing their first real encounter with the kelp forest.
Dr. Cole climbs up onto the dock with the easy grace of someone who’s done this thousands of times. “All right, future marine biologists, what did we learn down there?”
“That fish have personalities,” Sophie calls out.
“That the ocean is way more complicated than it looks from the surface,” Jessica adds.
“That I need to work on my underwater photography skills,” Tyler says, holding up his disposable camera. “I think I got mostly pictures of kelp and my own fins.”
Derek raises his hand. “That some experiences can’t really be described, only lived.”
I look at him sideways, surprised by the thoughtfulness of his answer. He catches my expression and shrugs.
“What? I’m deep. Like the ocean.”
“Very deep,” I agree. “Like a tide pool.”
