BC Cook
WHEN I started to describe to a friend what it was like to swim around Forbidden Island, the first thing he asked was why. By the time I had finished the tale he knew the answer to his question.
The hike down to the rocks from the parking area above was difficult, but it made us anticipate the cool water even more. Crossing over from the swimming hole to Forbidden was more a matter of walking than swimming. On our left was the calm, blue water of the cove, with breath-taking coral formations that beg to be explored. On our right was the turbulent, angry open ocean lapping relentlessly against the boulders. Its message was clear: to swim there invited trouble.
Although my cousin and I had swam on both sides of Forbidden before, we had a different objective this time. We came to swim around the island itself, something we had been told had not been done. Of course, that is not true.
We put on mask, fins and snorkel and lay in the surf, a water slide that squirted us out into the open on the east side of Forbidden. In no time we had thirty feet of water under us and were surrounded by fish of every size and color. It appeared that they were not used to seeing humans around here. We got our bearings and a feel for the rhythm of the surf, then would time our exertions so that we worked with the ocean, not against it.
As we swam along the outer wall of Forbidden we felt the pulse of the sea, first washing us closer to the rocks, then pulling us further away. We learned to trust the arms that cradled us, and when our confidence was high we made our move. With the right wave we lurched up onto the rock ledge and let the water set us down like a hen would set down her chicks. We were even standing upright when the splashing subsided.
Finding a crevice in the rocks, we left our swim gear and hiked along a path that led to the interior of Forbidden. The place was teeming with crabs and birds, the most I have ever seen at one place on Saipan. Perhaps it was a popular spot with wildlife because so few humans ever go there. But someone cut the trail, so it wasn’t completely untouched.
The sharp coral wore holes in our swim shoes so we returned to the rock shelf where we left our gear. Donning mask, fins and snorkel once again, we waited for the next large wave. When it hit the shelf we surrendered to it, and the water picked us up and returned us to the ocean, as effortlessly as it placed us on the shelf before. It is a serene feeling to be in the arms of nature.
As we continued our swim around Forbidden, careful to keep the shore line in sight, we saw that on our seaward side a shark had noticed us. We could tell it was a harmless species, and he was as interested in us as we in him. He followed us for quite some time before getting bored and returning to other shark pursuits.
It was time to head for shore on the cove side of the island, which was more difficult than it sounds. Once again it was a matter of timing the surf, then riding the surges as they drove us inward. The tricky part was not getting dashed to pieces on the coral-encrusted bottom. At this we did not do so well. Several times the rolling surf picked us up, swept us forward twenty feet, then slammed us down on the bottom. Sometimes we kept on our feet and avoided the rocks. Other times we did not. If caught with our feet in the air, we paid for the mistake with some other part of our body.
The swim around Forbidden Island is not for beginners or tourists. But if you are a skilled swimmer and have proper gear, I highly recommend the journey. We still reminisce about that day and look forward to the next opportunity.
BC Cook, PhD lived on Saipan and has taught history for thirty years. He is a director and historian at Sealark Exploration.
