Breathe

the pacific ocean

an ancient mariner

Beneath the surface, where the ocean's embrace holds the promise of sanctuary, I discover a haven—a realm of rest, peace, and purification. The allure of the Great Barrier Reef beckoned, and without a second thought, I found myself on the shores of Lizard Island (Jiigurru), a place eternally etched in history by Lieutenant James Cook.

The island earned its name not from grandeur but from the multitude of lizards that inhabit its terrain. As I stepped onto the soil that bore witness to the footsteps of explorers and ancient Aboriginal tribes, the salty breeze carried tales of a bygone era. The imposing peak, once scaled by Cook to chart his course amidst the coral labyrinth, stood tall, a silent sentinel over the turquoise expanse.

Jiigurru, as whispered by the local Aboriginals, held echoes of ancient rites and sacred rituals. An initiation ground for young boys destined to become men, the island wore the weight of rich tradition beneath its sun-drenched skies. The air, thick with humidity, bore the essence of an underwater realm, as if the ocean itself had spilled onto the land.

With camera, mask, and a weight belt to anchor me, I waded into the crystalline waters, where the sea grasses swayed like dancers beneath the surface. Here, in the shallows, I sought the company of the sea's ancient mariners—the green sea turtles. As the tide and day gave way, the turtles gracefully navigated the sandy patches to find their treasured grass.

These remarkable creatures, unchanged for an astonishing 250 million years, emerged from the depths with an undeniable sense of legacy. In the aeons that unfolded, they adapted and thrived, a marvel of the evolutionary artistry of survival. It was as if time had sculpted them into living relics, guardians of the ocean's ancient wisdom.

In the hushed rhythm of the ocean, I stood chest-deep, attuned to their deep breaths that punctuated the stillness around me. Almost human like before they sank to the bottom again. Patiently, I waited, and soon, a mature female green turtle emerged from the depths and approached me as if in slow motion.

For hours, I stayed with her through the underwater landscape, each moment painting itself into the canvas of memory. As I timed her breaths, I positioned myself to capture the intimate details of her ancient grace. She, in turn, acknowledged my presence, allowing me into her world with a silent understanding.

As I timed her breaths an enchanting moment unfolded. Approaching without fear, she swam up and towards me, a living embodiment of trust and coexistence. Positioned, I aimed to capture the intimate details of her ancient grace as the dance between observer and observed unfolded, a profound connection resonated through the depths. She rose to the surface to breathe, granting me the opportunity to capture the shot—a fleeting moment frozen in time. In that instance, the ancient mariner and I shared a sacred space, bridging the gap between worlds, and the photograph I captured became more than an image; it became a testament to the enduring beauty of the ocean's timeless guardians.

After that I held my breathe one last time in tandem with her and waved goodbye as she gracefully disappeared into the distance, I stood alone on the ancient beach, the echoes of our encounter reverberating within me. The photograph I captured became more than a mere image to me; it became a chapter in the ongoing tale of humans and the wild, where, for a fleeting moment, our worlds converged in perfect harmony.