Read Online Fierce Beauty by Kim Meeder - Free Book Online

length and are equipped with renewing rows of teeth—sample a human, the results are usually catastrophic.
    I’ve seen several tigers. For me, their immense beauty is overshadowed by their chilling posture of pure menace. They can be as harmless as game fish, but just knowing they can bite a man in half inspires primal fear. I understand that nearly all encounters with sharks occur in shallow waters. Nevertheless, it’s always the dark, deep waters that make my toes curl.
    Seeing the flanks of the islets begin to materialize out of the heavycobalt was both an ominous and welcome sight. The underwater landscape was dramatic, relating a history of fierce volcanic upheavals and violent collisions of molten lava with the sea.
    Without warning, the brilliant folds of deep blue darkened into dismal, foreboding layers of dark gray. Unfortunately, my observation of the changing weather was correct. We were suddenly beset by a rollicking shower. We rounded the outside of the farthest lava dome, which was rimmed in pure blackness as the bottom plunged to depths beyond our comprehension. Together we began to cross the small distance between the two rocky zeniths.
    At that moment, far beneath us in the darkness, a moving shadow caught my eye.
    I reached out and squeezed Troy’s hand. He quickly looked in the direction that I pointed. Immediately I felt him stiffen with alertness.
    We hovered in the soft drone of pouring rain. The dark figure was moving directly below us and traveling in the same general direction. Slowly it began to rise out of the shadowy depths in a vague line in front of us.
    I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until I recognized the form and exhaled in a rush. It was only a green sea turtle!
    Though I’ve swum with hundreds of turtles, each is still a special gift. I could see by the distinctively long, thick tail that this was a young male. The juvenile was surfacing for a breath of air. Turtles are usually shy, so I thought it strange that this one seemed unaware of our proximity. As he drew closer, I saw why. He didn’t see us. The truth was, he
couldn’t
.
    When the turtle came more fully into view, deep sorrow gripped my heart. An enormous tangle of fishing line was wrapped around his head and front flippers. An additional wad trailed from this mass, under his carapace and out into silver lines a half-dozen feet behind him. Snarled among the heavy lines were the remnants of several dilapidated foam floats. One was tightly knotted between his right eye and right flipper. Perhaps because of repeated contact with the float, his right eye was completely white and unseeing.
    There was more. The turtle was also afflicted with numerous tumors, some the size of softballs around the areas where the fishing line had contact with his skin. It appeared this beleaguered little guy had been carrying his burden for quite some time. The lines on either side of his head had sawed down nearly two inches into his flesh. These areas were white with what I assumed was infection.
    Held motionless by sorrow, I watched him surface not six feet away from me. Even though every movement must have been painful, he was still trying to live. With his small snout lifted high in the falling rain, he drew in one deep breath after another.
    My mind filled with questions.
Why, God? In the vast Pacific, on this day, in this place, at this exact moment, why would You guide this dying turtle to me? What can I do? What can I learn? What can I
—My thoughts were cut short by near-electric realization. Suddenly I knew I was in this place, at this time, with this turtle, for one reason
—to save it
.
    Here, near the surface and away from the protection of hiding places in the coral far below, the turtle was vulnerable. He would remain close by for only a few minutes, if not seconds. I didn’t have much time.
    Usually turtles will tolerate humans in their proximity only if there’s no overt or aggressive move toward them. Because