BC Cook
I HAVE always wanted to hike in the Himalayas and visit Machu Picchu in Peru. I have always wanted to sail with my wife around the world. I want to walk among the ruins of Angkor Wat in Cambodia. Someday I will do these things.
You have your own list of things you will do if you ever get the chance. For a long time I wanted to swim in the Grotto at night time, but it is not the sort of activity you should do alone, and I learned that not a lot of people shared this dream of mine. Then someday became one day. My wife and I rounded up a group of friends who were willing and we did it.
We drove to the Grotto at about eight o’clock in the evening and planned to spend about an hour in the water. We agreed ahead of time to cancel the swim if the water was rough but as we headed down the stairs we could barely hear the waves crashing on the rocks. The Grotto was in a good mood that night, like she was expecting us. She invited us in with her subtle motion and warm water, doing everything she could to make our visit enjoyable.
As is the case with most bodies of water, the Grotto is very different at night and during the day. A new cast of characters reveal themselves. One of the greatest thrills of swimming at night is moving among the tiny creatures that light up in the water like little fireflies. The phosphorescent life forms in the water lit up with every kick and swish of our hands. The water was alive around us. Our friends Hannah and Christine were scared at first and stayed close to me but as their confidence grew they ventured further away into the inky darkness.
Back in the reaches of the cave we could see fish that glittered in the flashlight beam, as if they had reflectors on their bodies. When the surge came in it lifted us to the roof of the cave, once bumping Joi’s head on a protruding rock. I took the opportunity to gather a little of the trash that collects in the back of the cave: plastic bottles, fishing floats, an occasional sandal.
The Grotto still heaves with the same tidal surge that it always has but there is something about experiencing it at night. The Grotto becomes a living thing and the surges give the impression that it is breathing. The ocean is communicating to us in its eternal rhythm.
The next day I spoke with Hannah and Christine’s mother and she said they stayed up all night talking about the swim and how they could not wait to go again. It made me think of all the things in life that we say we would like to do but never get around to doing because we are afraid or never quite find the time. Life is full of Somedays. When we replace the Somedays with Todays we really start to find fulfillment. Goals are set and reached, curiosities are satisfied, potential is explored. I hope I can swim the Grotto again soon. Would you like to join us?
Dr. BC Cook taught history for 30 years and is a director and Pacific historian at Sealark Exploration (sealarkexploration.org). He currently lives in Hawaii.
