At first I thought he was dead, lying there still as stone and ancient. Barnacles covered his massive shell and his long flippers lay motionless in the sand. I have never seen a sea turtle even remotely as big. He was easily as long as I am. I drifted quietly over him, looking for signs of life. It seemed sad that such an old and massive animal would come to such an end. And yet it also felt right somehow, him lying there on the sea floor, waiting to become part of the food chain again.
All else around me seemed to fade away, the reef, the tiny bright blue fish, the silver barracuda I'd been admiring a moment earlier. The only sign of life in my awareness was my bubbles, floating to the surface, sparkling as they reached the sun.
And then he moved. Just a small stretching of his great neck. I wasn't sure at first if I really saw it. My eyes may have been deceiving me. Underwater things seem to move and bend with the motion of the waves, even down this deep. And so I watched, waiting and wondering if I should move on and let this gentle giant be.
I am so glad I waited. He came alive slowly, like Rip Van Winkle waking from his nap.I am not sure how you can lumber and float at the same time, but that is what he did.
Of course, I so carefully did not wish to disturb him, and so I allowed the quiet current to bear me away. Hopefully I will get to see him again.
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