Wild and welcoming

At the edge of the world, I am torn between two feelings: emptiness and hope. Is this how it was at the beginning, before we journeyed, before our footprints marked every corner of the globe? Daunting, vermillion peaks rise from cerulean depths to salute our catamaran. They watch us trace a watery path through their territory, a group of islands known as the Galapagos, each so startlingly unique they are rivaled only in their bizarre wonders. Steadily, the waves carry us closer until we pass beneath their shadows. Even here, where flocks of rare birds replace bustling crowds, we warrant scrutiny.

From the vast sea an island emerges, the selfsame image of our moon. Amidst a flood of colourful snorkeling gear, we clamber aboard the day boat to witness the crew become a distant blur. I revel in the salty tang of the wind before hitting the water in a resounding splash. While I drift, my exposed back greedily drinks the equator’s heat.

They disturb me in a sudden rush of brown, a continuous stream of liquid chocolate. Startled, I tread water and watch the sea lions with wary cowardice. Three, sleek blurs wildly chasing each other. After a while they sense my nervous longing and one ventures closer, welcoming me with a show of pointy teeth and huge, dark eyes. I smile back, showing her my own white teeth.

Initially, she spins around my body in wide, loose, graceful spirals. In my desire to follow her I twist eagerly, mimicking her movement. It doesn’t take long until she is circling me so closely I can impulsively reach out and touch her, so fast I can feel the exhilarating rush of salt water. Fear melts with each twirl. We play like this for an hour until the abrupt stutter of the motor shatters our new built harmony. My head bobs to the surface to see hands waving, signally time to return. Reluctantly, I duck under to farewell my friends only to find them already gone. Especially her, she abandoned me first, like a foreign lover at a noisy train station.