by Rob West
17. January 2010 03:38
Off Gili Menos, a tiny, 1 km wide island, ringed by a coral reef and white sand beaches off the NW coast of Lombok, we plunged in from the outrigger with snorkels on.
Gliding 8 or 10 metres above the reef – the closest thing to flying except for this being water and probably nothing like flying – there it was at the edge where the reef plummeted away. A sea turtle. Graceful, green, reticulated, with flipper wings, turning slowly and fading towards the relentless blue of the deep off the reef. A few hard kicks with the fins and its back was only a body length from me – one more kick and it’d be able to touch it. And then it took a shit on me.
Lurid green, perfectly formed like a dog turd, slowly tumbling towards me like a depth charge off the stern of a WWII Corvette. A few slow motion underwater evasive manoeuvres and I was clear, the turd tumbling off below. But it was too late. The sea turtle was gone, fins flapping as it ghosted into the blue pixellated haze of the deep.
