An
estuary lay steaming in the early morning sun, the colours of the water in its
upper reaches a toffee-brown, but here, close to where a bridge of sand lay
between it and the green-blue sea beyond, the water was clear. So clear that the
great shovel-headed fish in the channel swimming lazily against the outgoing
tide looked suspended in air. The sound of waves, their crashing muffled by the
intervening dunes, rose above the cries of sea-birds in the sky. Fish were on
the move beyond the line of breakers and the sun-dappled surface was broken,
here and there, with the glistening, arced backs of sharp-eyed dolphins.
The outgoing
flow of the estuary carved the channel seaward, but in the chaos where ocean
met lake, the channel turned gradually to the south. It continued to run parallel
to the beach before forking and branching into a broad underwater delta. The
sand here rippled and the whiting darted. Out to sea, but to the north, lay an
island. More a point of land whose lingering connection to the continent became
more and more tenuous with each cycle of tide. The schools of bait fish were
driven towards it. The convergence of stony beach, brown-stone reef and long,
breaking waves peeling southwards from the island’s east-most point conspired to
corral the fish. Here, the hunters waited.
On mats
of spongy bark they sat. Bobbing on the swell, spears and nets in hand. Looking
south, they shielded their eyes and called to one another in anticipation of the
school’s arrival. One young hunter stood on her vessel; its prow tied with
string and sealed with blackened-sap. With her hands she paddled back and forth
to stay close to that part of the bay where the peeling waves partially blocked
any escape for the prey. The current grew stronger as the tide continued to ebb
and soon she lost ground; her craft being drawn between reef and sand bank so
that, in the moments of calm between waves, she slipped beyond the break.
Floating
out here was not new to her, but the direction of the swell and the way it
broke and peeled away from the island meant that the barrier they planned to
use as a tool for hunting fish now separated her from the group. She could see them
beyond the line of breakers and knew that the school had arrived; spears and
nets were being thrown and shouts floated across the air.
To
return she had to choose; a long paddle down behind the line of waves and then
back up to the group, a risky attempt to scamper on to the rocky beach or wait
for a break in the waves and paddle as fast as she could directly back to the
group. While she thought, a dolphin broke the surface beside her then streaked
forward through a wave towards the beach. Needing no further encouragement, and
wishing to return before the school broke and ran, she looked behind and scanned
the horizon. The waves were grouped and she counted three as they passed under
her, a long gap, another three, another gap. She realised her moment had
arrived and, whilst kneeling, paddled as hard as she could for the other side. She
did not realise, though, that she had been pushed further north than she
realised and that what lay on the other side of broken water was reef and rocky
beach. With a fright, she steered her craft towards the south to angle away
from the hazard, but in doing so, lost time. The gap between waves passed and,
looking behind her, she saw the first of the next three waves approach.
Paddling fast, she felt her craft get pulled back towards the wave as it sucked
up the sea in front of it, but the wave passed her at the last moment, peaking
as she rose over its crest.
The
offshore breeze blew spray back into her face. Gasping, she looked behind again
and saw that the next wave was bigger. In fear, she dug deeper with her hands,
willing the craft forward. Her eyes focused on the beach beyond. She could see the
group looking towards her, waving and shouting but did not need to turn around
to understand why. Still paddling to angle away from the rocky shore to her
right, she felt the same sensation of being drawn backwards by the wave.
Realising there was no other option but to paddle harder and harder, she stroked
the water desperately, knowing her life depended on it.
This
time though, something felt different. She felt energy below her and the craft
began to slide forward, whilst tilting in a way that she had to lean back to
avoid falling. In an instant, the wave began to break; spilling white water and
propelling her forward across its face. As her craft skimmed along, she lost
her fear and yelped with joy. Not just because she was surviving, but because was there,
slicing along the blue arc of rolling water.
She raced down the
line of wave until it passed beyond the shallow sand bank and into deeper
water. Here she found herself in calm waters not far from the outliers of her
group. She paddled towards them, her heart racing, and saw in their eyes
something hard to describe; almost as if they were seeing her anew.
