The turtles had been elusive this summer. We had snorkeled in many spots – Honolua Bay, Kapalua Bay, Manali Bay – and had seen colorful coral and fanciful fish, but no turtles. Even in Makena Beach, known for its clear turquoise waters and turtles that loiter among the rocks close to shore – we had found only wild surf that upset their habitat and our nerves – and had to make do with just a swim, sans turtles. But hesitant to give up on sharing these gentle, wise old creatures with Raka Didi, Amit, Rajan, and Nikita, we finally tried Honokeana Cove, a veritable bowl with all but a quarter of it closed off to the ocean, with water still as a pond’s and sea turtles that call it home.
The same swell that had driven the turtles out of their grazing grounds at Makena, however, had murkied the shallower waters at Honokeana. A turtle had been poking its head in and out of the water on the left shore, but when Didi, Maya, and I went looking with our masks on, we found only sandy water, with sunbeams and shadows of the waves playing tricks on our eyes. Srini and Amit had swum far out, as usual, while the timid among us still pondered on how much to venture out. We lingered safely near terra firma, missing the prize: Srini and Amit had found them! But they had gotten only the briefest glimpse, and after days of swimming in salty water, none of us were eager to jump back in and go exploring.
None, except Aanika. Buoyant at the possibility of seeing a turtle, she quickly strapped on her swim goggles – no snorkel gear, no fins, no floaties – and jumped in with Srini. He had her hold a corner of his shirt, and tugged her back to the deeper water where he had seen them. Maya and I lazily ate oranges on the rocky shore, while the rest of the team found shade under a small tree. Our trip was coming to a close, and even though we had missed the turtles this time, it seemed a nice closure to dry off under the Maui sun, the trade winds curbing the heat.
As we gazed absent-mindedly out towards the ocean, occasionally spotting father and daughter, I thought I saw a small turtle head bob up and down about three feet from them. It couldn’t be, I thought. Double take: they were swimming back, and the bobbing head was leading the way. The little Honu seemed to be playing with them. I wanted to be there immediately, but also hated to take my eyes off them while I put on my mask. Maya also caught the fever, and jumped in with me. Together, we swam out to Aanika and Srini. They were hovering above a spot where a huge, old turtle slept. Aanika dove down several feet to point it out to us, lest we confuse it for a rock. Its shell, possibly as big as our kitchen table, had lost much of its vivid markings. The turtle was determined to play coy – never pulling his head out of the rocks.
But where was their playmate? We snorkeled around in the area and within minutes, found him resting on the cove’s floor, its shell about 18” or so in diameter, with markings still crisp, and its head no larger than our orange. A delicate neck bridged the two. Its eyes were wide open. After all that excitement, it seemed incredibly still, but distinctly aware of our presence. It could have been tired from that bit of activity, but from its alert stillness, it seemed more startled at its own daring. Or maybe it was trying to hide in plain site. We can ponder forever what it must have been thinking; I’m just glad we went back in the water.
