This is a short story from my visit to Indonesia, July 2017.
A shimmer to my side and I turn my
head to see a barracuda at eye level, slowly following baitfish. The barracuda gazes
fanatically at me before turning back to its prey. Lazily, the fish disappear
in a haze of sunlight. The water is warm, and I look downward.
Nearly below me, as the bright tropical sea
recedes into an ever deeper blue, rests the wreck of the USAT Liberty. The
gutted ship no longer has the sharp lines and curves of a manmade vessel;
instead, it has been given new life by asymmetrical, organic growth. I can’t
quite make out the individual corals and fish, so that their movements along
the skeleton of the shipwreck animate it. The Liberty pulses with the rhythm of
the waves, its far end fading into the depths.
My breathe whooshes through the
snorkel, rattling slightly. I’m going to freedive into this ship. No scuba tank
– lungs only.
I push forward to center myself
above the highest tip of the wreck. The extent of my freediving training is
this: a drunken conversation with an Australian at a beach bar last night.
I take 3 full breathes, completely
exhaling each. Sucking in as much air as I can, I throw myself downwards,
kicking my fins. The nearby end of the ship isn’t too far underwater, and I
easily reach it. I pop my ears. My nerves are calmed now that I’m actually
diving. I decide to push down a little deeper. To my surprise, I find I have to
pop my ears again, wiggling my jaw with a slight crackling sound.
I descend into the Liberty’s shadow
where immediately the water is a touch cooler. Approaching the wall of metal,
the ship’s surface has clarified into a higher resolution and I can see that
the metal is splotched with algae. My
chest starts to feel uncomfortable, so I get my fins underneath me and kick.
Without haste, I return to the surface. *Pshew!* I shoot the water out
of my snorkel with a firm exhalation.
I want to see more interesting parts
of the ship. Eyes scanning the body of the wreck, I paddle over the open belly.
This is where the most life is, waving and darting around. I see a crossbeam
within the hold and determine to swim under it.
3 big breaths, I plunge forward,
and kick the surface away. I crackle my ears. I’m swimming with more purpose, having
to go twice as deep. I wiggle my jaw again. I’ve reached the edge of the ship. I
pop my ears for a third time. Now I’m into the hold where corals reveal their
resolution. What looked like dull blurs from above showcase intricate patterns
and vibrancy, more than my eyes can take in as I continue to descend. I must be
50 feet underwater. The crossbeam. As I loop under it, my lungs are aching, and
I’m suddenly faced with a fish bigger than me. No time for pleasantries, I
kick, waving my arms upward. The roof of
air is far above as I struggle towards it.
Kicking, grasping, aching, racing the bubbles I cough.
*PSSSHEW!* I explode into
the air. Heaving, my chest is nearly spasming. I look towards the shore, where
the sun sits atop Mt. Agung. The volcano hasn’t quite yet blocked out the light.
I think I can fit in a few more dives.
