With straining breaths and tight muscles, Ryan and I lift up Bob. We take slow meaningful steps, our sandals flopping hard against the sand. We drop Bob on the shore, and take victorious breaths. Rain’s cheeks are pinched in for a full face smile, his mahogany skin, so tan that I can only envy it, glitters in the sunlight.
The waves lap at Bob’s yellow skin. I grab him and pull him out to sea. On land bob is heavy. 141 pounds (64 Kilos) of science and engineering. But in the water, he is weightless. I hit the golden “on” button, and Bob’s single round gage lights up. Seabob Version 1.6
My girlfriend is nearby on her own Seabob. The sunlight dances on the waves around her, as she dips up and down like a baby dolphin. She doesn’t know how to swim and is still earning her sea fins. This was her first time on a Seabob, and her second time in the ocean. Her laughs bounce across the waves. Her long black hair sails behind her, cutting through the water like an ell. She turns sharp, her hip bone cutting the waves like a shark fin.
My Bob was ready. He told me so with a new screen. We flee the sticky tropical heat and fall into the deep blue eyed sea, as transparent as glass. Bob and I did this yesterday, for about 20 minutes, and now we knew each other as well as lovers. We leave the blond beach and bounce over the waves like a skipping rock.
A guided torpedo, I dive. Deep. Hard. Fast. Rushing water pinches my cheeks, pushing on my unbreakable smile. In five seconds I am down below the sea, in an entirely new and different world. Frowning micro sand dunes, like gently folded white leather, cover the sea floor. They are white like the sand of a moon lit desert. Watchful fish fly by like darts. Below, in the diamond clear water I can see 6 feet (2 meters) in all direction. The edges of my world are fogy blue glass. The roof is chrome lacerated with yellow sunlight.
I think I should go for air, I don’t know if I need it or not, my excitement paves over any fear. Bob sprints up and punctures the waves. We crash down like a whale. I grab a single, lung swelling breath, and head back down.
I plow my toes across the neat sand dunes. It tickles like soft felt. To the side my shadow races me, staying slightly ahead and rippling with the waves above. Ecstatic seaweed ahead, it dances around like a field of wild flowers. I beat Bob’s little red button, slowing us down a trickling 10%. We disappear into the seaweed shadows at the pace of a casual swim.
I cut through the small patch and exit into the open sand. I thumb Bobs little green button and rocket to a mind racing 100%. We shoot through the water like a spear gun. I trample over the sand, sending it into a riot. I zoom past angry starfish the size of my face. I watch hermit crabs duck into their homes and battling crabs forget what they are doing to flee together. I arch up, toward the sun, and shoot through the sea/air barrier.
The sunlight pops off the water, little patches of white come from all directions. I dolphin shallowly, up and down, keeping the waves just below and just above my eyes. I refreshed my lungs. Jet skis are growling in the distance. They are fast, maybe faster than me, maybe not. I don’t know. I don’t care. They are horses galloping over a meadow, fast and strong, but I am an eagle. My wings are open, my world is endless. I rise, I soar, I plummet, I spiral, I fly. I melt back down into my three dimensional world, leaving the noise behind.
The cool tropical water burrows through my hair and courses around my body and the legs that dangled behind me. I peak at Bob’s gage. We are running at full throttle and we have hours of power left. It says the water is at a cool 70 degree Fahrenheit (22 Celsius). I think for a moment. Yes I want to try it. My fingers are choking Bob’s handles, I let go.
Bob shoots ahead 3 feet (1 meter), changes his mind and floats to the surface. I am suspended in gelatin below the waves. My movements slow and awkward, no longer agile, elegant, fishlike.
I crouch down to the sand and start to pile it. I want to make a sandcastle. The sand rolls down the tiny embankment like marbles. No Bob, no sandcastle, I’m bored. A sudden need for air. Hydraulically powered, my feet pound the sand, shooting me skyward. My hands dig, long sweeping motions. Once twice, three times, up through the water.
The sky is a new jigsaw puzzle, with only the clouded edges and the centered sun filled in. The sun is stabbing shinning patches of white on the otherwise blue sea. Bob is glowing. I swim to him and down we go again.
The peaceful sound of bob humming fills the water. We glide over prisms of captured light glued to the sea floor. I bank left, I bank right. I watch the world go by. I want to laugh, to shout in excitement. I can’t I’m underwater. I coast up.
A mist shoots up and falls back down revealing an alien world, the one where sea meets land. Crowding the beach are sleeping sun-bathers, bored swimmers, and relaxing coconut trees with door sized leaves. Behind them, in the distant is a hotel, a bright center of noise and color. I feel sorry that everyone doesn’t have a Bob. I feel sorry that everyone is unaware of the beauty underneath the sea. My eye catches an island in the distance. “Bob, tomorrow, that’s where we are going”.
Bob nods in agreement.