1970 - My Lunch With Moray

I absolutely love swimming Southern Pacific waters. Always a new experience.

1970 – My Lunch With Moray

I dove for the bottom, only 15 or so feet below. I waved at Kathleen, my lovely wife, whom I assumed was watching through the glass-bottomed boat’s glass bottom as she was uncomfortable swimming in water that was too deep in which to stand. We had taken a day-trip south from Ma’alaea Harbor, on Maui, to a crescent-moon shaped sunken volcanic caldera a-ways off-shore. We were entertained on the way out with videos of past trips, talks about safety & snorkeling as well as a short presentation about the island, its history and the surrounding ocean. What was left of Molokini, the name of the part of this little island’s volcanic cone that stuck out of the water, was a shallow bottomed “pool,” the outside edges of which plunged almost straight down into deep-ocean.

(From Wikipedia) “Legend has it that Molokini was once a beautiful woman. She and Pele, the fire goddess, were in love with the same man. The jealous Pele cut her rival in two and transformed her into stone. The woman’s head is supposedly Puu Olai, the cinder cone by Makena Beach. During World War II, the Navy used Molokini for target practice because of its similarity in shape to a battleship.” Hmmm…ok.

Leaving from dockside we shook with the impact of the oncoming surf but soon turned south after leaving the relative shelter of the harbor. Running with the prevailing wind and waves made for a much smoother ride. After a couple of hours heading south at a good clip, we arrived ready for a swim and it didn’t take long before the water was fairly teeming with swimmers and snorkelers. Slipping into my mask and fins I was one of the first into the warm, heavenly warm, water.

Again, I dove for the bottom, at this spot it was only 10 or so feet below. The coral were filled with sparkling bright and colorful fish of all types and sizes. I dove into a pair of Butterfly Fish and they darted just out of reach picking at the tips of the coral, cleaning algae and the tiny little ubiquitous, shrimp-like crustaceans. A school of Blue Tangs swam through the cracks and crevasses as though the reef were part of an underwater fish-freeway. In between the coral-heads were clear stretches of bare sand. These areas were teeming with life of all colors and sizes. As I leisurely kicked my way across one of these patches of sand a pair of Moorish Idols cruised along with me less than a foot from the right side of my head. If I reached out to them they would move out of my reach but moved back in when I put my arms back to my side. I surfaced for air, blowing the water out of my snorkel. Keeping my head underwater I watched them cruise on ahead of me. With a quick flip of their tails they turned left and swam out of sight under an outcrop of coral. I cautiously explored some of these coral heads knowing from past experiences that surprises can lurk inside some of the deeper crevasses.

The swim reminded me of a day when I was in the Navy diving and swimming off Grande Island in the Philippines. Both areas similar in the temperature of the water and the color and variance of the fish.

The sky was crystal clear as was the water as we climbed into the Military Water Taxi that would take us to Grande Island. It had been a lovely, although decidedly hot and humid, day.

Just the day before, we had attended the mandatory Change-Of-Command Ceremony. During this ceremony the heat had become a major issue. We all stood in ranks in our dress-white uniforms awaiting the inspection of the ranks by the new Captain. This was normally a simple formality as everyone would be in their best uniform and as cleaned up as they can get. The helicopter-deck, where our division stood together in the early morning sun radiated heat back to us as the ¼ inch steel decking heated to an even greater temperature than it had maintained all night. The nights in the Philippines, at this time of year never got below sweaty and uncomfortable. Living inside the skin of the ship told us clearly why a destroyer is known as a “tin-can.” It made residents feel as though they were packed like tuna in a container that is also an excellent conductor of heat. Many of us had spent the night on an outside deck where the hot breeze made the radiant heat barely livable. This AM we looked forward to a quick inspection, a couple of short speeches and cake on the mess-decks. Everyone was surprised when our outgoing Captain stopped at the first sailor and looked down. He frowned. “Shoeshine, Chief.” Boats, the traditional name for the Chief Boatswains Mate, made a note on his clipboard and shook his head. Thinking of the faulted sailor he also noted to himself that it was going to be a long day if the Captain was going to actually start formalizing the inspection. Another step… “Shoeshine, Chief.” Another mark on the clip-board… Another step and another pause… The Chief stood at-ease as the Captain took a half-step back and looked down the row at the shoes of the sailors in the front rank. “Chief, Have them step back.”

“Crew, attention!” “One step to the rear…step!” We all took a step backwards. Although our eyes should have been on the horizon straight ahead of us I noticed more than one head turn, as did mine, as we examined the decking where we had stood moments before. Outlining most of the spots where sailors had formerly stood was the black outline of their shoes. The decking was so hot the polish was actually melting of off the well-polished shoes leaving a dull finish behind. The only exceptions to this were those few sailors that had purchased “Florshiem’s” a style of shoe with a highly-polished finish. At that moment Dave, halfway down the ranks, dropped to the deck in a dead-faint. At the same time 2 sailors standing in ranks on the main-deck dropped in a faint from the heat and humidity.

“Chief, dismiss the crew. We’ll carry on this ceremony in the Wardroom. Please assure all Officers and Chiefs attend.” The Captain turned to his replacement and motioned him ahead of him as they retired to Officer’s Country. Upon command we broke ranks and, after a short interlude with cake on the mess-decks, retired into our work uniforms and went back to our regular work. That was a Friday and we were off for the Saturday and had planned our trip to Grande Island all week.

We headed out Saturday morning expecting a great day. Our walk took us past the dry-docks, one of which now contained half of the USS Evans, a destroyer of the same model as ours. The Evans had been run over by the Melbourne, an Australian Aircraft Carrier. It had split into two pieces at the expansion joint and appeared to have been sliced down the middle by a razor-blade. Unfortunately the forward part of the ship had sunk immediately while the aft end stayed afloat long enough to tie it to the carrier and save most of the sailors inside. In a few weeks Bob, a USS Evans crew member would join our crew and wind up sleeping in the same compartment that he had slept in during his time on the Evans. The salvaged air conditioner from the Evans replaced the poorly working unit in our compartment so its familiar squeaks and whines continuously reminded Bob of his time on the Evans. He never slept easy. For the time being that Bob was in our future and Bob Kelly, our 2nd class PO was leading us to the island where he had been several times.

We were in Subic Bay for replenishment, repairs and R&R (Rest & Relaxation). Saturday was planned to be a featured part of the R&R. The island was known for its great swimming and diving and well known as a picnic/party place with an EM Club which welcomed us all with big fans to keep the flies down and beer inexpensive and cold enough to quench any thirst.

Merle, Ladd, Hank, Bob Kelly and I arrived on the dock and headed out immediately for the locker club where we could stash our street clothes or uniforms and change into swimming gear. We noticed that when we returned the EM Club was just a short walk across a shaded outdoor atrium. Perfect! We headed for the back of the island where the best diving was rumored to be. We would all meet for lunch.

The coral heads came near the surface of the water in some areas but between the heads were long stretches of pale-tan smooth sand where fish schooled and played in incredible volume. It was these stretches that would, one day, remind me of this swim as I glided above the bottom of Molikini.

I dove and swam for a while before Merle called my attention to a particularly well-populated group of coral-heads. I swam over near his location as we swam together for a few minutes. Merle wandered off as I dove towards a particularly lovely coral-head, cruising through the gaps and observing the fish, snails and undersea life that hid inside the many holes and gaps in the coral. A thick-faced dull-green head stuck out of a good sized hole and watched me with darting eyes. It didn’t seem concerned at all with my presence unlike most of the fish I swam toward. I swam in closer. Obviously, to me, this fish had grown big enough to survive to this size. I headed for the surface to blow the air out of the snorkel and take another dive down. I quickly located the fish I had last seen. I still waited just inside its hole with only its wide smiling mouth and eyes visible. As the sun passed behind a cloud I moved closer and steadied myself in the water. The sun re-emerged as I reached out. I moved my hand from side side-to-side and watched as its head followed my hand back and forth. I resurfaced and called to Merle shouting to him about the fish that showed no fear. “Do you have anything I could feed him?” I shouted. Merle replied to the negative and swam in my direction. I dove again and immediately found the waiting fish. The animal still showed no fear as I came closer until my hand was within about 6-inches from its nose. It watched my hand intently. The creature suddenly jerked to the side away from my hand and emerged a good 15 inches, most of its body remaining inside its lair. Simultaneously I jerked my hand away from what was quite obviously a very large moray eel and…well…I panicked. Merle said as I passed him it looked like I was running across the top of the water with flippers on.

I waited in the shallows recovering my wind from the scare. After a few short minutes I rejoined my companions and began exploring again with the same interest as before but with a greater level of caution.

This incident was in the back of my mind as I glided above the sand off Molikini. I was keeping my eye out for “scary” fish. I was well aware barracuda, sharks, eels & other various less-than-friendly denizens cruised this part of the ocean although preferring areas with deeper bottom and fewer people who were typically noisy, chasing game away, as well as numerous, dangerous and too big to eat, in most cases. I saw, of course, no dangerous fish or anything else of note except clear warm water and hundreds of multicolored flora and fauna.

After a couple of hours swimming we all climbed aboard our boat & headed back to port which would be another 2-hour trip. On the way back we watched the video that we starred in for this trip interplayed with shots of the current batch of adventurers and the seafloor that had been shot both this time as well as some beautiful underwater scenic shots from past trips. A Hawai’ian barbeque was served as promised and beer was available for a small cost. It was a great party with our many new acquaintances on a fantastically lovely day. As we came into the shelter of the considerable harbor we traveled with dozens and dozens of sea-turtles that swam along side as we slowly overtook them. The next day I would encounter one of these large reptiles during a swim offshore of our hotel. A half-dozen or so of us swam alongside, and in some cases, rode the wild turtle for around 20 minutes before it headed back out into deeper water.

Simply another perfect day…and the memory of another…