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In the white beam of my headlight the coral is dusky pink with pale nodules, and on first glance is quite empty. But then a smile breaks under my mask, it's hard to do with a breathing tube in my mouth but I feel the upwards twitch. The coral is alive with seahorses. Their angled heads and tubular mouths bob and sway in the current, their transparent fins fluttering in waving motions. Each of them is clasped to the branches by a fragile tail, hardly looking more robust than a baby's finger. I should be moving on now, my air tank will only last so long; but something keeps me lingering. There is something of my childhood wishes looking back at me, perhaps it was creatures like these that fuelled my love of the ocean. Whatever it is I stay until I get a bug in my ear from the boat above. "What's taking you so long?" So I tear my eyes away and push at the water with flippered feet.
As I was about to swim away, something caught my eye. It was a seahorse, only It had a single q-tip attached to its fragile tail. It's movements were small and frail, worn out and lost; nothing like the other seahorses. The smile on my face was long gone and a feeling of dread took its place. 'Is this what we're doing?', I thought to myself. There was no avoiding it or jumping around the bush.
We're killing them.
Back on the boat, I watch the sea, lost in the rhythmic percussion of waves on sand. My eyes are steady to the horizon, face aglow with the last orange rays before twilight beckons the stars.
"What happened?" My Father asks. "You're usually all happy after you've been down there."
"Maybe it's not so great anymore." I sigh and look down at the sea smacking the boat. "And it's all our fault."
He came and stood next to me. "The world's a different place now, sweetheart. Every ecosystem is in distress yet we continue to act like children addicted to the sugar of commercialism."
No more words were needed. We stood looking out at the horizon, a silent determination took over my being.
