Friday, March 18, 2011
Slipping Into Depression
Hanauma Bay
I felt like a dark cloud had
just encapsulated me. I began to question my motives for coming to
Hawaii. I wanted to be with Carol Sue. Hawaii couldn't compete with
her. "If I only had the money," I thought, "I would go home right
now." I was sick, and I didn't want to be in Hawaii anymore, let alone
in that damp, smelly cave. My nausea was returning, and I began to
envision the searing pain that puking would cause. Then, the panacea
of panacea's hit, I fell asleep.
My desperation lifted with the morning sun. I was still suffering
though. I was in pain, but the heartache that compounded my pain had
left me. When the beach-goers started showing up, I felt good enough
to try swimming in the bay's aquarium-like waters. After I rented a
swim mask and snorkel from the guy in the booth, I splashed face down
in the ocean, and below I saw the white porous coral. All through the
coral swam yellow, silver, stripped, spotted (you name it, they were
there) fish -- a fantasy swim in a huge aquarium. It was great!
When Bev and John showed up they brought with them a tub of Kentucky
Fried Chicken. Until then, I'd been eating next to nothing. The
chicken was delicious. After a bit, John and I decided to have a go at
swimming the 50 yards or so out to and beyond the protective reef. Pat
stayed on the beach with Bev. He said, "You're both crazy." It was
more of an effort than I anticipated, but it was worth it. Lloyd
Bridges would have been proud of me. I did, however, swallow a lot of
salt water in the process. Time passed quickly, and after John and Bev
left to go back to Honolulu (not before they told me I could use their
address), I headed in the opposite direction.
I'm now sitting on a picnic table with 15 to 20 mph winds hitting me
in the face, and the rain is just beginning to fall. Rather then
attempt "a pup tent night in the wind," there's an outdoor bathroom
waiting to be checked out for possible shelter. Maybe it will make
this evening bearable. I sure hope so, I'm the only person on the
beach and it's almost dark.
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