After learning the basics I felt confident about diving, however, things are very different when your dumped in the middle of the ocean. The sun was bright when we took the boat to the dive site, the water was rough, the boat was at the whim of the waves bobbing from side to side, with a nauseating feeling encroaching on my excitement I was desperate to get into the water. Once my diving gear was secured I took a ‘giants step’ into the water following my instructor. I was slightly apprehensive to be having this experience for the first time alone. But the best experiences are personal and when you are in a world made of water you are alone with your thoughts any way.
As we were about to descend my nerves got the better of me, I was surrounded by an expanse of blue, deep and endless, with no idea of what lay below. Finally I controlled my breathing, all that I could hear was the rhythmic bubble making and of my regulator and a slight crackling noise surrounding me. In front of me was murky blue, I didn’t know how deep we were then as I turned to look below, a whole new world was opened. Life was swarming; rock shelf gave way to an expanse of corals in every colour. The first fish we came across were small and electric blue, feeding on the rock. As we swam forward so much more colour appeared, fish of purples, greens and blues surrounded us. I recognised many fish I had seen before in aquariums and it made me feel at awe that I was seeing these creatures in their wild and natural habitat.
As we ventured deeper, schools of fish weaved their way in and out of rock crevices. As I looked ahead a black and white zebra fish came right up to my mask. It looked so inquisitive and un alarmed by my presence. It made me think, we don’t know just how intelligent fish are and just referring to them as seafood is not giving them enough credit!
There was so much diversity in the world I was observing, I tried to capture every moment in my head so I could refer to it later, an imprint, an ingrained memory. But there was just so much to see, and as soon as I saw it I felt the image already beginning to fade. The colours were unimaginable, such intense blues and yellows, it was hard to think that such colours were a product of nature and not an artist. I struggled to think of places on land which would be home to such diversity of life, such different organisms inhabiting one small slice of the earth.
Then the dive was over, I knew we must have been down there a while but it seemed like we had only just begun. As we ascended, shafts of light began to break through the surface, painting all the microscopic creatures which began to shimmer, the water was full of golden filaments. It was good to breathe the air once more but strangely foreign after breathing under water.
The boat was still swaying, a monotonous and nauseating movement but we were soon on our way back with fresh ocean spray in our faces. As we returned I began to think about what I had just witnessed a great richness of life that comparatively few people are fortunate to see. To my surprise I felt saddened after the experience, my thoughts were on just how much harm we are doing to the oceans and how much we have already harmed the land. In my life time I had witnessed such great diversity but wondered how long this would last with the rate of human destruction. For too few the oceans don’t seem to be an important part of their lives but our oceans and seas affect us all, they should be our priority. As I looked out at the un interrupted waters I had a renewed understanding as I now knew just what lay beneath, I had fallen in love with the ocean all over again.
It is hard to describe the rains in Silhouette, to do them justice would be to see them. You hear them before they fall, as the clouds role over the highest point (Mt. Dauban 720m) the rain falls in sheets of cool. Distant at first, with a sound like roaring wind and rustling leaves, they move down the mountain side. The volume increasing as the rain reverberates off the giant palms down through the forest. Eventually when the sound and force reaches its peak, quiet descends. As soon as it had come it had gone. Now once warm ocean breezes are cooled and hot dry air now quenched. With the rain comes all the smells of the forest. The damp earth and smells coloured with green, the atmosphere now thick with moisture coats your lungs as you breathe more deeply. As the clouds fade to sun, normality resumes, earth dries in seconds and north westerly winds sweep the forest smells away and all that remains is the last drops of moisture that still cling to the air, a memory on the wind.
The Jungle awaited. Since I can remember I have craved the Jungle. There is something alluring about the prehistoric trees reaching ever upwards into a closing canopy. Something that has been seen by so few human eyes, untouched and untarnished. The Jungle is an amazing natural experiment; here you can really see what nature can do, when left to its own devices.
I have been up the mountain on Silhouette a few times now and in all cases, the paths are steep and unforgiving. The climb begins
with a gentle slope which quickly converts to steps of the jungle. Gnarled tree roots lay exposed, manipulating the soil and rock above and below them. They provide a natural stair case up the mountain, interceded with volcanic boulders and wind etched rock. Leaf litter deepens as you gain height and with it comes the smells of a forest at work. All year round leaves fall, flowers bloom and fruits drop, the smells
are sweet and musty. The air is heady with the smell of decomposition, as wood and leaf becomes part of the root mat under foot. It’s not an unpleasant smell, It smells almost ancient or prehistoric. Wet and earthy accented with the occasional sweet and sickly jack fruit. As your rise further into the forest the air is thick with the smell of aniseed and cinnamon, products of plantations on the island.
The terrain is difficult and often you find yourself using trees as levers and vines to swing. Some parts of the forest are glacis which are large boulder fields. Here volcanic rock
has fallen and formed bridges over valleys, made up of huge boulders up to 5 meters in diameter. Occasionally these have to be crossed.... the surface of these are completely smooth, blue green algae, moss and lichen have taken over but through time wind has polished their surface. In some places you have to hall yourself onto the rock and cling on whilst simultaneously sliding to level ground. When it’s wet, it is particularly dangerous as walking boots offer no grip when presented with blue green algae.
On my way to Mon Plasir (the highest point I would reach) We came to Jardin Marron – the garden of the wild. This was a s
mall stretch of level ground half way up the mountain. Here It is said that during colonisation of the island some slaves escaped and made their home here. Some of the forest has been cleared and papaya, Jack fruit and coco de mer trees remain. They do not produce a seed so must have been planted there by someone...
Very few people take the track up to Mon Plasir so the path is rough. The incline is often vertical
so it is a case of grabbing hold of something and pulling yourself up. The forest begins to change at this point as moss covers every surface, the clouds lie at this level so visibility decreases and humidity increases 10 fold. Once at the top the temperature has dropped by 3 degrees and the north westerly winds can be felt rising up over the ridge. I was lucky enough to be able to go to the ancient pazonia forest a little way down the other side of the ridge. Here the vegetation has really taken over with wild raspberry bushes, tree ferns and endemic spiky palms abundant.
After fighting our way through the vegetation with machete in hand we came to a clearing, it was beautiful. These prehistoric trees stretched far upwards flatting out in weird triangular shapes at the top. Vines hung down from the trees as well as winding they’re way up the trunks. It was something right out of a George Orwell novel. Above us fruit bats screeched over head and tropical birds nested.
They weren’t fancy but they flew with great elegance, white and streamline with delicate whisping feathered tails of half a meter long.
After taking some samples we started the trek back. I realised the jungle looks the same from every angle but my supervisor seemed to remember the path so I followed behind- with a bit of distance as he was brandishing his machete wildly.... You may think the decent is the easy bit, but it’s actually quite tricky as you begin to look down to the forest below. After a while I got the hang of it, swinging from trees for balance and being careful not to grab the native palms that have evil spikes. I took the advantage of having vines to swing from and for reassurance. After a while I began to really enjoy this obstacle course winding up and over fallen trees and down landslides, tip toeing over slippery boulders. The pace was fast now as my supervisor charged ahead, it was important not to lose concentration as sometimes after tripping on a vine it seemed like nature was out to get you. Or perhaps, just giving you a friendly tap on the shoulder to let you know she was still there....
However, that’s just what my supervisor did. He got his foot caught in a tree root and had tripped twisting his knee and slicing his hand on his machete. Glad I stayed well back.... Luckily I had brought tissues and plasters but the journey down was going to be made more difficult. It seemed to last forever, with the quiet of the Jungle it is easy to get lost in your thoughts and often I found myself repeating them over and over again and was only awoken with the occasional grunt of my supervisor in front.
We came across many landmarks of carved rock and fallen tree that seemed so familiar, I knew we were nearing the bottom. As I landed on level ground my legs felt like jelly, I was scratched to buggery, sopping wet, so tired but happy. It was the most gruelling walk i have ever done but well worth it.
I dream of the endless blue... The ocean, seemingly infinite and blossoming with life. There is something about the ocean, something alluring...something that muddles the senses.
s of the world, who needs belief when you have fact? In this respect, it would be easy for someone to say, science is so rigid, cold and untouchable. To me however, it is the opposite. Science, is an art.... The art of asking the right questions to achieve the best answers. I think science is open to our imagination, infinite and beautiful.
ut to me the processes that occur for the writer, poet or painter are themselves, beautiful. Nothing is lost from knowing how the brain functions and it's uniqueness still remains. Perhaps this is the problem, people want to feel special, want to be unique- do they think that science groups them into quantifiable processes and reactions? Well perhaps it does, but the fact that anything exists at all is extraordinary, we and the world we inhabit are exceptional. Every day science reveals something new to me. Something strange, something startling, something beautiful......
