The sound of the water lapping at the boats soothed the anxiety that was threatening. It had been a very long time since I had ventured so far from home. I gazed at the many and varied crafts, some shabby, some beautifully maintained, others somewhere in-between. How would I know which one to choose? Perhaps it would choose me. I decided to simply walk, one foot in front of the other and let my senses direct me to my allotted craft and captain.

Breathing in the wonderfully salty air cleansed me and bought a feeling of immediate tranquility and being centred. A face appeared before me – old and incredibly weathered – trustworthy . The critic in me whispered “and clichéd” into my mind. Pah!. I looked up. Nobody there. I continued on. I felt Ti stir in my pocket, the movement a comforting reminder that I was not alone.

OH! I tripped clumsily on a hank of rope – my fall was halted by the grip of a strong arm. The arm belonged to the captain – there was that face!

I began to introduce myself but he cut me off telling me it was not necessary as he knew who I was.

“Follow me” he said.

His manner was such that it was obvious he would brook no argument so I trudged along behind him – all lightness and serenity having disappeared in an instant. Back to grounded reality then! Ti was now awake, her head poking out of my pocket catching food from the air. I usually trust her instinct so if she were relaxed enough to be feeding then this man was probably ok. I will admit to feeling somewhat intimidated.

Good grief – he had stopped at the most run-down, un-seaworthy-looking boat in the harbour. His eyes shot me a look that forbade any comment whatsoever. My heart sank – I prayed the boat would not. Clambering aboard, I went and sat where he pointed. Great – no chat here either. ‘Was my whole journey to be conducted in silence?’ I wondered. Oh well, so be it. I did feel rather uncomfortable, without the usual social niceties I wasn’t sure how to behave – it feels a little like being naked in an inappropriate situation. I shuddered, my skin prickled, I was deeply self-conscious. My mind wandered …..it is odd how one becomes self-conscious when being ignored – I suppose it is that we can’t leak into another and share ourselves …..

“Triton”, he suddenly said – well shouted – interrupting my meandering train of thought.

“Um, s’cuse me?” I stammered.

The look on his face could not have been plainer, the rolling eyes gave clear expression to his exasperation.

“For me to take you to Mudjimba you have to visit with Triton”, he explained, “We are nearing the chasm, you need this.”

He threw a wetsuit at me.

“Oh lord – I have to swim?”

“You have to dive!” he retorted and pointed to an aqualung which I had managed not to notice.

‘What the hell am I doing?’ I thought, quickly followed by ‘well no choice, I think even if I wanted to, this man would not turn back’.

“Where do I change?” I feebly asked. He just stared at me, it was plain to see there was no-where but right where I was – no nice little private cabin – this craft was little more than a rowboat. I groaned. Oh well nowt else for it…..I started to undress bit by bit trying to climb into the wetsuit as I went so only the smallest amount of flesh was on view at any given time. Excruciating! ‘When did we humans begin to be so uncomfortable in our own skins……..’, my mind was wandering off again.

“Oh blast”, I muttered or something close to that. I threw caution to the wind and disrobed. Wetsuits are not easy – I struggled and contorted but managed to get it on, hurrah.

Gruff – this is what I named the captain in my head, helped me on with the aqualung and showed me how to use it. For someone so stern of face and manner there was a true gentility within him.

Ok, so this is it. I am equipped. It is time to enter the water……….