colour that is most associated with the Pacific, the colour of lull within a reef; beyond the reef he saw the blue ocean, almost violet against this inner sequestered blue that was not blue either, or not the celestial, European blue. This was a colour not of contemplation but of sensation. It did not calm the eyes so much as stretch and drench them.
He was now deafened by the falling water above him, though he could see no pool. The rock seemed to repossess the water as it struck. The plants all about were colonised by other plants. Petals seemed so fat with water you might snap them off and suck them. The growth of green all around was so full of itself it ripened, rotted and germinated in the one season.
In fact, seasons, offering the appropriate system for natural life and death, were too orderly for this profusion.
Ardent Spirit looked flat and small and white from here among the green and noise and wet. Her two empty masts were all that made her more than a white gap on the water. If he took off his misted specs and screwed up his eyes so that his lashes caught prisms among themselves, Nick could hallucinate that he saw Elspeth on the boat and what looked like children.
He began to move about on his hands and knees among the ferns and mosses, lifting them carefully as you lift tissue from a botanical illustration. When he had collected the various snails into his Dijon-mustard glass, taken from the boat’s rubbish, he looked up at the fractioned sun through the palms and set off down towards his bicycle. He had just finished making a lid for the glass with a handkerchief when he heard the hungry yelp of a dog.
It would soon be dark. They could not leave the reef by night or they might misjudge the narrow channel that had been dynamited through it for the passage of boats. Warm abrupt rain came. When he looked up at the crown of the waterfall it was surrounded by a vehement double rainbow. The impression was of a shrine for a shakily authenticated miracle.
The bike spurted sparkling water from its wheels as he freewheeled through new puddles on his way down to the beach where the others lay. Gabriel was on her back with her forearms flexed behind her to take her weight. Twice Logan reached and seemed to remove things as small as insects from her, with the dissatisfied absorption of a sharp-eyed bird. Alec lay some way from the other two.
‘Nick, you are a timepiece in yourself,’ said Logan. ‘Will you give us a hand, now you’re here, with this thing?’
They stowed the shopping, pulled on sweatshirts, and plucked out the crabs that had made it into the Zodiac. Some crabs had died and been eaten by small scavengers during the afternoon.
Gabriel sat up in the bow while the men launched, held and climbed into the rubber boat. Nick lowered the engine and started it, steering towards Ardent Spirit .
She grew as they approached her. By the time they touched her side she was their home again, their burden and their way of escape.
‘You are the mollusc man, Nick,’ said Logan later. ‘Perhaps you can tell us what to do with the splendid creature currently parking its custard off the stern.’
Nick thought of the three land snails he had found after his hunting under fizzing ferns. He had released them. They were all specimens of the dominant carnivorous snail, at different stages in its lifecycle. The idea that a raptor might in its youth impersonate its victim seemed intelligent and horrible to Nick. He had found two large edible snails mating in a mess of froth, and one half eaten, the size of a cow’s tongue, loose but muscular.
The lights on the mainmast and spars gave enough light to show the markings of the shell and its resident, when they hauled it up. Large and primitive – what a hopeless combination for a mild-mannered marine creature. Nick stroked its mottled probes and received a polite response. But the poor thing was lolling loose in its shell. Besides, it too had been half eaten, by
He was now deafened by the falling water above him, though he could see no pool. The rock seemed to repossess the water as it struck. The plants all about were colonised by other plants. Petals seemed so fat with water you might snap them off and suck them. The growth of green all around was so full of itself it ripened, rotted and germinated in the one season.
In fact, seasons, offering the appropriate system for natural life and death, were too orderly for this profusion.
Ardent Spirit looked flat and small and white from here among the green and noise and wet. Her two empty masts were all that made her more than a white gap on the water. If he took off his misted specs and screwed up his eyes so that his lashes caught prisms among themselves, Nick could hallucinate that he saw Elspeth on the boat and what looked like children.
He began to move about on his hands and knees among the ferns and mosses, lifting them carefully as you lift tissue from a botanical illustration. When he had collected the various snails into his Dijon-mustard glass, taken from the boat’s rubbish, he looked up at the fractioned sun through the palms and set off down towards his bicycle. He had just finished making a lid for the glass with a handkerchief when he heard the hungry yelp of a dog.
It would soon be dark. They could not leave the reef by night or they might misjudge the narrow channel that had been dynamited through it for the passage of boats. Warm abrupt rain came. When he looked up at the crown of the waterfall it was surrounded by a vehement double rainbow. The impression was of a shrine for a shakily authenticated miracle.
The bike spurted sparkling water from its wheels as he freewheeled through new puddles on his way down to the beach where the others lay. Gabriel was on her back with her forearms flexed behind her to take her weight. Twice Logan reached and seemed to remove things as small as insects from her, with the dissatisfied absorption of a sharp-eyed bird. Alec lay some way from the other two.
‘Nick, you are a timepiece in yourself,’ said Logan. ‘Will you give us a hand, now you’re here, with this thing?’
They stowed the shopping, pulled on sweatshirts, and plucked out the crabs that had made it into the Zodiac. Some crabs had died and been eaten by small scavengers during the afternoon.
Gabriel sat up in the bow while the men launched, held and climbed into the rubber boat. Nick lowered the engine and started it, steering towards Ardent Spirit .
She grew as they approached her. By the time they touched her side she was their home again, their burden and their way of escape.
‘You are the mollusc man, Nick,’ said Logan later. ‘Perhaps you can tell us what to do with the splendid creature currently parking its custard off the stern.’
Nick thought of the three land snails he had found after his hunting under fizzing ferns. He had released them. They were all specimens of the dominant carnivorous snail, at different stages in its lifecycle. The idea that a raptor might in its youth impersonate its victim seemed intelligent and horrible to Nick. He had found two large edible snails mating in a mess of froth, and one half eaten, the size of a cow’s tongue, loose but muscular.
The lights on the mainmast and spars gave enough light to show the markings of the shell and its resident, when they hauled it up. Large and primitive – what a hopeless combination for a mild-mannered marine creature. Nick stroked its mottled probes and received a polite response. But the poor thing was lolling loose in its shell. Besides, it too had been half eaten, by
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