Fidget Vacation Journal: The Turtle

My understanding of Hawaiian locals is that they can be hostile to outsiders. Or if not hostile, at least standoffish and somewhat unhelpful. The lady in the snorkel shop told us, for example, that if we looked like we didn't know exactly where we were going when we made our way to the super-secret snorkeling hotspot, locas in the area would turn us away, telling us that it was closed. (Consequently, we haven't tried to find it yet.)

Last year, another person told us that, given the chance, the large sea turtles found in the area will bite your fingers off. "Yeah, the other day, this tourist was snorkeling -- just off this point here -- and he thought he'd reach out and touch a turtle," the local said. "Bit his finger clean off. You're not supposed to touch turtles, you know." I didn't know if that story was another example of a local's attempt to deter some out-of-towners from entering the water in search of turtles. But when we saw a turtle the other day, I wasn't about to take any chances. I kept my distance.

My dad and I watched the turtle from above. He (or she . . . okay, it) was about four or five feet long and about three feet wide. It floated gracefully under us, slowly flapping its enormous "wings" like an undersea bird. Its shell was the color of algae, and the markings were hard to see. I took that to mean that it was really, really old -- perhaps 100 years or more. Its broad back feet, which were much smaller than its wings, came straight back from the rear of its shell.

I sensed that the turtle was watching us, worried about what we were up to. Is it ready to bite off fingers?, I thought. It didn't. Instead, it floated down to the rocky reef, and stayed still. We watched.

Sometime later, the turtle could hold out no longer. It tilted its head toward the surface and soared upward, about ten feet away from us. The turtle popped its head (bigger than my fist) above the surface four times, each time opening its mouth to take a breath. And then, it turned back toward the ocean floor, falling like a flat stone to the reef. We watched as it settled back amongst the rocks. It hid its head under some coral.

After a couple of seconds, the turtle's moldy colored shell blended in so completely with its surroundings that if you didn't know it was there, you would never even see it. True story.

Aloha, to the SFZ readers!

[photo by fidget's dad, taken on his dad's cell phone, which fidget taught his dad to use]