So there I was, kayaking through the beautiful waters of New Zealand, when lo-and-behold I got myself lost. I was searching for a series of caves I read about that were allegedly filled with bioluminescent glow worms. Photos made it seem like a scene in
Avatar
, and although I didn't like the movie, I couldn't help but gawk at the amazing visuals like everyone else. To see their real life inspiration would be incredible. The man I rented my kayak from told me there were guided tours once a day that would bring me to those exact caves but, as usual, I fancied myself an explorer and declined his offer. I wanted to find them myself.
As dusk approached, I spotted a small island that looked like it could be home to the caves I sought. I also grossly underestimated the time it would take me to get there. Over an hour ago the sun dripped below the horizon and darkness came fast. Moonlight shone off the water and illuminated parts of the shoreline, giving me just enough of a target to navigate the black sea. I paddled and paddled, exhausting myself to get to that small patch of land since there was no way for me to find my way back to the mainland in the darkness. As the island became larger and more clear, my fears dissipated. It wouldn't be long until I could pull my kayak on to dry land and rest until morning.
I heard a loud
thump!
and my kayak rocked hard to one side, threatening to topple. I adjusted my weight to keep my balance, probing out with my paddle to see if I had hit a rock. It seemed much too far from land for there to be a rock, but maybe the water was more shallow than I thought. When my paddle failed to hit anything, I was puzzled. Ahead of me, a great black mass breached the surface and splashed water over me. In the brief glimpse I had, my brain concluded it must have been a whale.
"Probably just checking me out," I mumbled to myself. Sea mammals tended to do that. So did sharks. The water was calm for a moment, and I began paddling once more, eager to make it to my tiny island in case the creature returned. I barely went a hundred feet before my kayak rocked again, this time flipping over entirely and throwing me from the craft. I held my breath and clawed for the surface. My hands scratched across my kayak, which told me that way was up, so I grabbed hold and took in a lungful of air when I broke the water.
I struggled to flip my kayak and hoped most of my gear remained fastened on top. If not, tonight was about to get a lot worse. To my left, a large, black dorsal fin crested the water and disappeared from view as it rounded my craft. My heart raced so fast I thought I would pass out. I rocked the vessel back and forth, gathering momentum to right it, and kicked my feet hard to climb on top. Just as I was about to stick my feet into the kayak and search for my paddle, the whole vessel rocked again and the dorsal fin was suddenly an arm's length away.
Getting a closer look at it, I was almost one-hundred percent confident it was an orca, or killer whale, fin. The good news was, as far as I knew, there has never been a report of a wild killer whale actually killing a human. Not on purpose, anyway. The bad news was that maybe that was only because the dead can't report their own deaths. Or perhaps I would be the first. Logic told me that the orca was simply playing, messing with me for sport, but that wasn't enough to stop me from panicking. Whatever it was doing, it terrified me, and even more so when my tiny little kayak raced toward the island ahead of me with the orca's help.
How it pulled my vessel was a mystery. I feared where it might take me and frantically thought of how I could stop its movement with what limited resources I had. As we grew closer to shore my worries lifted, and I gained confidence. Even if the creature changed course, my momentum would surely propel me to shore, and I'd be able to wait things out till morning. When the creature
did
change course, I somehow went with it, like it was towing me. I glanced down and saw my gear was missing from the top of my kayak, but the cords that secured it were pulled taut ahead of the vessel. Had the orca grabbed my backpack in its mouth and was literally dragging me along? Were they smart enough for that kind of thing?
Instead of heading for the island, the orca turned and took me around it. Fear and curiosity in equal measure consumed me.
Where was it bringing me? Was it bringing me anywhere at all, or just having some fun? Why did I go alone instead of take that stupid tour?
As we rounded a jagged outcropping of rock, my thoughts and fears were momentarily assuaged. An ethereal blue glow emanated from inside a cave on the other side of the rock face. It glimmered off the black water and took my breath away.
The orca turned again, pointing me toward the cave, and raced toward it long enough to get my vessel going in that direction before the steady pressure of its pull disappeared, as did its dorsal fin, and the waves calmed around me. My kayak lazily floated straight ahead, into the mouth of the cave under its own momentum. The glowing blue light grew brighter as I entered the cave, and I got a good look at what caused it.
Strange pods of light clung to the roof of the cave, with long, dangling appendages like vines or tentacles hanging from each. Small fish followed in the wake of my kayak, and the walls of the cave moved with unknown creatures. A cloud of dusty debris in the water caught my attention, and I noticed that my bag dragging across the bottom was causing it. I leaned forward and pulled my backpack out of the water, shaking it before securing it to the front of my vessel once more. I gawked at the glowing spectacle and grinned from ear to ear that I had finally found it, even if I needed a little help.
"Hello!" I heard a female voice echo through the cave. I followed the source of the noise and saw a woman softly lit on a beach inside the cave. At least I thought it was a woman, based on the sound of her voice. As I drifted nearer, I saw that she was topless, naked from the waist up. At first I wanted to look away to preserve her modesty, but my eyes then fixated on her lower half, which was unmistakably that of a fish. I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn't seeing things, then concluded that the whale must have killed me and this was some form of afterlife. What else could explain a half-fish woman?
"I said hello. Can you hear me?" she asked.
"Yes," I said as my kayak came to a halt on the beach in front of her.
"Then why didn't you respond?"
"I, uh... I don't know."
"Are you ill?"
"I'm not sure," I said, staring at her in disbelief.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, looking down her body. "Oh, right! I sometimes forget you humans aren't used to seeing a mermaid."
"A what?"
"A mermaid. Haven't you heard of them?"
"Well, yeah, but..." my train of thought meandered for a moment. Had I not banged a fairy a few weeks ago I would have thought I was dreaming or going crazy. Maybe both. "A mermaid, huh?"
"Yes! My name is Tino Tau, what's yours?"
"Mel," I said, still trying to catch up to the situation. "Did that whale bring me here on purpose?"
"Tauihu? She sometimes helps lost sailors. Were you lost?"
"Yeah, I suppose so," I admitted, "Is she a friend of yours?"
"More of an acquaintance, really. We're friendly though, if that's what you mean."