NOWRAMP
2002
Journey's
End
Nihoa Island
Written by Carlos Eyles
Underwater Photography by Jim
Watt
October 6, 2002
We blew into Nihoa like a loose kite on a Nor'easter. Rolling
on a frontal system of ten foot seas, (predicted by the
Captain to reach eighteen feet later this evening) and twenty
knot winds. During last night's dinner the seas fell as
did the wind and we were all lulled into a false sense of
security, to the degree that the cooks broke out their stash
of ice cream given as a gift back at Midway. Just about
the time the sugar hit us, so did the seas, the combination
ended any hope for a restful night. Personally, I got a
solid two hours before my back gave out and I waited out
the dawn in somnolent discomfort.
At
6:45am, with Nihoa in sight, its misty countenance fronting
the rising sun, the Hawaiians gave chant on the bow. Nihoa
in that moment looked for all the world to be precisely
what it is; a portal back into time. We, all of us on board
the Rapture, since we first arrived at Nihoa twenty-nine
days ago have been traveling back into time, and today we
voyage back into the 21st century. It has been quite a journey.
We have seen all of the Hawaiian Islands as they once existed
hundreds of years ago, and thousands of years before that.
We have seen the grand symbols of these islands in their
guardians, the great ulua. Everywhere we dove there was
the ulua. They would stream in by the score, curious, bold
and big, some reaching a hundred pounds. Fearless, they
would bolt right up and challenge us, actually bumping into
the divers from time to time. Ever curious they would follow
divers around like ill-mannered dogs for the entire dive,
swooping in, and their scarred faces eyeing us with disrespect.
Their muscled shapes swollen with the power and nobility
of kings. The life energy of the natural world is found
in the presence of the very largest of the species that
occupy that domain. They have the countenance of power.
To date they know no enemy in these waters, they are not
tricked into the fishing line, or ambushed by monofilament
nets. They exist as they have always existed, and were designed
to 
exist.
As are the sharks, the other apex predator and guardian
of these perfect and pristine reefs. The sharks were not
as bold or as large as we expected, but they were here in
numbers, Maro Reef let loose a hundred sharks on one dive.
They were allways about, but more on the peripheries, as
the ulua ran the show. Once, when thirty big ulua had taken
residence off our stern at Pearl and Hermes, a six foot
Galapagos drifted in for some fish goodies we were dropping
over the swim step and was summarily chased away, never
to return. The sharks however were a presence and accompanied
us on nearly every dive, their streamlined shapes always
in the misty background, doing their job, patrolling for
the weak and infirm. We are only as noble as the creatures
with which we share space on the planet. To destroy those
creatures will only accelerate our own demise. Perhaps not
in the physical sense, though that is more than just a possibility,
but certainly in the spiritual sense.
Within
any decent myth the seeker of truth, of beauty, of mystical
knowledge, or of a treasure, must travel a great distance
at great peril and eventually in reaching the entrance to
nirvana must engage the guardians. They must then pass through
these guardians to reach the object of their search. In
this case the ulua and the sharks were such. On the other
side of their guardianship lay the reefs, the source of
breath-taking beauty, of health, of balance and harmony.
Many of these coral gardens were seen by man for the first
time, and they embraced the most colorful and exotic fish
imaginable. Species found nowhere else on earth. The dance
of the tropical fish was unending, and filled with a certain
joy that only such fish can express when left undisturbed.
The coral gardens themselves were edifices of nature that
were stunning in their diversity and perfection. We had
stepped back into time, into clear water, unpolluted, and
untainted by man's soiled hands. Those gardens cleansed
us of our civilization and we were renewed in its healing
waters. We have been to a healing place and seen its work,
and now we must begin to heal the deep wounds of the planet,
and in the doing continue to heal ourselves. We were changed
forever, as you might expect to be. Further committed to
keep this treasured place intact and unsullied so that generations
to come might know such a home exists if one is moved enough
to make the journey. Yet there remains the realization that
we are running out of time and opportunity to nurture and
hold dear what little is left of the legacy that was bequeathed
to us; the heart and soul of the planet; the natural world.
Such
a place changes us as individuals as it changes us as a
group. The place fills us with that which we cannot fill
ourselves. Perhaps even more rewarding than the magic that
was bestowed upon us was the deep sense of family that developed
here. The coming together of the tribe of sea people, whose
single thread of connection was their deep and abiding passion
for the sea. I made friends in these thirty days that I
will cherish for the rest of my life. Much of the work for
these field researchers and educators, and scientists is
isolated, lonely work, for a time we all came together in
a single mission to apply our skills to sustain these reef
systems and keep intact their balance and beauty. Their
deep commitment to that end is an inspiration to me, and
furthers the incentive to protect these reefs and the predators
that guard them. Only a healthy mind can perceive a healthy
environment, and only a healthy environment can produce
a healthy mind. To witness these islands is to hold dear
one's own place in the scheme of things, and attempt to
re-string the connective spirit that binds us all to our
home the planet earth.
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