killed by the corn companies.” Susan nearly spat when she
said corn. Her face flushed.
Gybe
wanted to react to her epithet about the corn companies, but decided
that this wasn’t the time. What was with Kara, and now Susan,
in their crusade against the companies? Could Susan be guilty? Was
Kara as naïve about the deaths as she appeared? He scribbled a
note in his spiral pad and looked up at Susan.
“ Where
is this place?”
She
shrugged. “My secret. It is my place. My place alone.”
“ Before
you went into the water, did you see any other boats around?”
“ No.
I was the only one out there that night. It was a very clear night
– no clouds. With the full moon I would have seen another boat
if one had been there.”
“ What
did you see while you were diving?”
“ On
a full moon, with clear skies, the reef is alive with dozens of fish.
The moonlight penetrates to the bottom so a light isn’t
necessary. On the night of a new moon, the opposite happens. The
bottom of the ocean is pitch black – as black as the depths of
a cave.” Susan’s eyes dilated as she recited her
experiences diving alone on these special nights.
After
a brief pause, she continued. “Then I practice my yoga.”
“ Huh?
Meditate?” Not what Gybe expected.
“ Yoga.
I work through a set of asanas – dhanura, nataraja, chakra,
sirsha, et cetera. Finally, I assume padma-asana.” Sensing
that her lawyer was unfamiliar with yoga, Susan explained each of the
positions, then added. “Padma-asana is commonly called the
lotus position. It’s probably the first image you visualize
when someone mentions yoga.”
“ What?
You’re saying you lay out your yoga mat and work through your
asanas while wearing a scuba tank, BC, fins, and mask?” Gybe
practiced yoga when he had time, but he couldn’t visualize the
postures while wearing scuba gear. Reacting to Kara’s puzzled
look, Gybe added. “BC is a buoyancy compensator.”
“ Sort
of. On the sand, which is several inches deep, I don’t need
the mat. As for the scuba gear, I remove everything but the weight
belt. Although the water is cool, low 70’s, I don’t wear
a wetsuit.”
Susan
piled her equipment at the edge of the sand and attached a
twenty-foot long hose to her regulator. On her weight belt, she used
a small air bottle and bladder to achieve neutral buoyancy at the
depth.
“ With
the full moon illuminating the water, the experience is surreal.”
Susan described the reef life. A moray eel, she called him Morrie –
how original - lived between two rocks near the base of the reef.
There were dozens of fish drifting about the reef. Sometimes, the
fish bumped into her as she sat perfectly still. She had seen squid,
octopi, and green sea turtles. And barracudas were around most of
the time.
Kara
jumped in. “You meditate underwater in pitch black when the
moon is new? What about sharks, eels, and other critters? Aren’t
you afraid?”
Gybe
noticed that a serenity had settled on Susan’s face as she
discussed her underwater yoga antics. As unusual as it sounded, he
made a mental note to try it sooner rather than later.
“ There’s
nothing like it. If the Hindus had had scuba, yoga would be an
underwater activity today. Under a new moon, I meditate with my eyes
open. I’ve learned to control my fears. Think of the
self-esteem after such a practice. Besides, the critters as you call
them are mostly friendly.
“ But
what of the danger?” Kara wouldn’t give in.
“ We
– the collective we of mankind – have killed and are
killing many of the predators of the ocean. Here on Moloka‘i,
the seed corn conglomerates with their genetic engineers have killed
the reef. Much of the reef is just dirty, brown dead coral with few
fish, little live coral, no anemones, no eels, no nothing. There is
little reason for the higher predators – sharks if you will -
to visit most of the reef.” Then as an afterthought, “there’s
nothing for them to
said corn. Her face flushed.
Gybe
wanted to react to her epithet about the corn companies, but decided
that this wasn’t the time. What was with Kara, and now Susan,
in their crusade against the companies? Could Susan be guilty? Was
Kara as naïve about the deaths as she appeared? He scribbled a
note in his spiral pad and looked up at Susan.
“ Where
is this place?”
She
shrugged. “My secret. It is my place. My place alone.”
“ Before
you went into the water, did you see any other boats around?”
“ No.
I was the only one out there that night. It was a very clear night
– no clouds. With the full moon I would have seen another boat
if one had been there.”
“ What
did you see while you were diving?”
“ On
a full moon, with clear skies, the reef is alive with dozens of fish.
The moonlight penetrates to the bottom so a light isn’t
necessary. On the night of a new moon, the opposite happens. The
bottom of the ocean is pitch black – as black as the depths of
a cave.” Susan’s eyes dilated as she recited her
experiences diving alone on these special nights.
After
a brief pause, she continued. “Then I practice my yoga.”
“ Huh?
Meditate?” Not what Gybe expected.
“ Yoga.
I work through a set of asanas – dhanura, nataraja, chakra,
sirsha, et cetera. Finally, I assume padma-asana.” Sensing
that her lawyer was unfamiliar with yoga, Susan explained each of the
positions, then added. “Padma-asana is commonly called the
lotus position. It’s probably the first image you visualize
when someone mentions yoga.”
“ What?
You’re saying you lay out your yoga mat and work through your
asanas while wearing a scuba tank, BC, fins, and mask?” Gybe
practiced yoga when he had time, but he couldn’t visualize the
postures while wearing scuba gear. Reacting to Kara’s puzzled
look, Gybe added. “BC is a buoyancy compensator.”
“ Sort
of. On the sand, which is several inches deep, I don’t need
the mat. As for the scuba gear, I remove everything but the weight
belt. Although the water is cool, low 70’s, I don’t wear
a wetsuit.”
Susan
piled her equipment at the edge of the sand and attached a
twenty-foot long hose to her regulator. On her weight belt, she used
a small air bottle and bladder to achieve neutral buoyancy at the
depth.
“ With
the full moon illuminating the water, the experience is surreal.”
Susan described the reef life. A moray eel, she called him Morrie –
how original - lived between two rocks near the base of the reef.
There were dozens of fish drifting about the reef. Sometimes, the
fish bumped into her as she sat perfectly still. She had seen squid,
octopi, and green sea turtles. And barracudas were around most of
the time.
Kara
jumped in. “You meditate underwater in pitch black when the
moon is new? What about sharks, eels, and other critters? Aren’t
you afraid?”
Gybe
noticed that a serenity had settled on Susan’s face as she
discussed her underwater yoga antics. As unusual as it sounded, he
made a mental note to try it sooner rather than later.
“ There’s
nothing like it. If the Hindus had had scuba, yoga would be an
underwater activity today. Under a new moon, I meditate with my eyes
open. I’ve learned to control my fears. Think of the
self-esteem after such a practice. Besides, the critters as you call
them are mostly friendly.
“ But
what of the danger?” Kara wouldn’t give in.
“ We
– the collective we of mankind – have killed and are
killing many of the predators of the ocean. Here on Moloka‘i,
the seed corn conglomerates with their genetic engineers have killed
the reef. Much of the reef is just dirty, brown dead coral with few
fish, little live coral, no anemones, no eels, no nothing. There is
little reason for the higher predators – sharks if you will -
to visit most of the reef.” Then as an afterthought, “there’s
nothing for them to
Similar Books
