The Art of Not Breathing(38)
AFTER A WEEK OF ME PAINTING AND PUTTING FURNITURE TOGETHER, in between taking pointless exams, Danny finally allows me to join him and the other boat boys on a dive. I get through my maths exam, just about, although I can’t answer most of the questions in the second half of the paper, and arrive at the harbor midafternoon. Joey and Rex are feeding the seagulls on the harbor wall. They’re wearing new matching wetsuits that have red zippers on the back. Rex holds a piece of bread out to Joey, then whips it away and sticks it in his mouth. Joey elbows him, and then goes back to clucking at the gulls.
“We’re going to Sandwich Cove,” Danny explains, appearing from nowhere. “There’s an underwater cave there. Up for it?”
“Yeah, of course,” I say, even though I’m afraid of caves.
Danny passes me a yellow waterproof duffel.
“It’s a loan, just for today.”
Inside, there’s a diving watch and a diving suit. The wetsuit is tight, but it slides on much easier than Dillon’s smelly old one. The fabric feels smooth against my skin. I can’t stop beaming and just manage to stop myself from throwing my arms around Danny’s neck.
The Half Way is one of the smallest boats in the harbor. It just about holds the four of us. It chugs along slowly, giving me time to compose myself, and by the time we arrive in the small bay, a little way up the coast from where Tay and I used to dive, I’m still nervous but more excited. We moor up to some craggy rocks that are sheltered from the breaking waves and stay in the boat to put our gear on. I accidentally elbow Rex several times as I pull on my wetsuit, and he shouts loudly that I can’t keep my hands off him. Joey tells me to ignore him. Danny points to where the cave is—to get to it, we have to swim back out to the sea and around to the next bay.
The water is freezing, but I have booties on and the swim warms me up.
When we get to the next bay, Danny stops swimming. “Wait,” he says, holding me back in the water. He stares at the cliff face as though there might be a monster lurking just beneath the surface. Loch Ness Monster perhaps. I giggle nervously.
“We can’t do this today,” Danny says. “There’s a current. I can feel it.”
I look around. The bay is as flat as a millpond. And the water around my legs is still and cold.
“Don’t be a twat, Danny boy. Come on, I’ll lead the way,” Rex says, swimming on.
“Stay close to me, Elsie,” Danny says. Then he speeds off to catch up with Rex, and I can hardly breathe by the time I reach them. Danny is in charge again now. I can’t help wonder if he’s a little scared of caves too, though. I feel a surge of warmth for him, but quickly shake it away.
“The entrance of the cave is five meters below the surface. When we get there, follow the light and keep kicking hard until you get to the far wall and then frog kick straight to the surface,” Danny says. “Watch out for bits of rock that jut out—keep one hand near the wall, and the other above you.”
We dive down, and Danny points to the rocky coral-covered archway that leads to the cave. I want him to go first, but he motions for me to go ahead. It’s dark inside the arch. I swim as fast as I can, my fins hitting the coral with every kick, but finally I see the opening, and the dark water turns to a hazy green. When I get to the far side, I look up and see the surface a few meters above. I start frog kicking like crazy, but the fins are getting in my way. We’ve been under for less than a minute, but I already want to breathe. I’m just thinking about removing the fins when Danny appears next to me and he takes us up. It seems to take forever—the clear water is deceptive, and the surface is much farther away than I first thought.
Finally, we break through and Danny asks if I’m okay.
“Yes, except the fins don’t fit properly.”
“They do fit. You just need to work on your fin kicks,” he says.
“How do I improve my fin kicks?” I ask.
“Your kicks aren’t very efficient.”
“Yes, but how do I make them better?”
He demonstrates with his hand, pushing his fingers back and forth in invisible water. I have no idea what he means. Tay would be able to tell me how to improve. He would show me, then draw a diagram and then let me practice as many times as I wanted.
I miss him.
Danny motions to some steps carved out of the rock. I pull off my fins in the water and heave myself up. The steps lead up to a narrow ledge where there’s just enough room to sit with my legs dangling over the side. Once I’ve gotten over the journey in, the sight takes my breath away. Light shines down from two cracks in the ceiling and fills the cave with golden rays. Hundreds of stalactites hang down, the water on them glistening. Danny sits next to me.
Below us, the shadows of Rex and Joey shimmy up to the surface.
“The water’s amazing,” Rex says when he comes up. “You can see right to the bottom. Did you look?”
I didn’t look down—I was too focused on getting up to the surface—but he’s right: the water is the clearest I’ve ever seen, with no sand and grit that normally makes it murky.
“Welcome to the King’s Grotto,” Rex says, as though he owns it. “Isn’t this the coolest place you’ve ever been to?”
“It’s amazing,” I say, still taking it all in. The air in here tastes stale, but being in an underwater cave is mind-blowing. If I’d known about this place before, I would have chosen it for my hiding place.