The Sea Urchin

When I was five, my family used to live in Puerto Rico on a small Coast Guard base, Basa Ramey.  Our house was directly across the street from a natural dropoff to the ocean.  There was a point tourists used to go to to see the whales migrating “Whale of a Lookout”, that I always looked over, but could never actually see anything.  The supposed whales looked more like whitecaps on the waves - but it was still so beautiful.  There was also a private club with a pool overlooking the Caribbean.  We would go swimming every day, either at the pool or in the ocean.  My favorite place was nicknamed “The Roman Baths” because it was comprised of a series of 6-15 foot coral pools, separated by a natural coral breakwall from the larger ocean.  Because of this, these pools were safe from large predators - we never had to worry about sharks or barracuda or anything like that, but they also teemed with other kinds of sea life.  The coral shelf containing these pools was constantly filled by shallow stream of ocean water flowing in on a current.  My dad would always take my younger sister, Maureen and I down to the beach, which had to be reached through rough wooden steps down a jungle-covered cliff.  Tangles of vines, trees, and brush created a shady tropical forest seemingly miles away from everything.  Although you had to be careful going down the steps (they were always wet), it was very beautiful.

On the beach itself, there were miles of white sand, bordered by the rainforest.  There was never anybody else there.  My favorite thing to do was to walk out on the coral and go snorkeling in the ocean pools.  When you were underwater, snorkeling, the only thing you could hear was your own breath in the snorkel.  Everything else was silent - your entire world was teh underwater scene around you.  On a sunny day, the entire sea was bright and clear.  There were spiny sea urchins, blue tangs, and other fish.  Little schools of fish would flit within inches of our faces, tantalizingly out of reach.  I would always try to touch them, but they were always too fast.  One time, I accidentally touched a small octopus, thinking it was a brown blob of something.  It squirted away, and I was just as surprised as it was.  Maureen and I would chase all the schools of fish, trying to catch one - I just wanted to touch them - but we were never successful.  I could literally spend hours doing this, and never be happier.  Even today, my favorite memories are of us living in Puerto Rico.  Being underwater,  snorkeling, was the best.  There is nothing to compare it to.  
My dad used to call us his Ironfoot girls because the coral was so sharp - and we would walk on it barefoot.  The black coral was literally covered with jagged edges and sharp barnacles, but It was only a short distance to the pools, so the temporary pain was worth it.  Once we got to the edge of the pool, the waves crashed on the breakwall, but the water inside was calm.  The sun shone overhead, a warm breeze blew.  I remember walking up to the edge of one of the pools.  I could see to the bottom.  Here and there, a small clownfish swam.  There was barely a ripple on the water’s surface.  I had spit in my mask, washed it out, and was just stepping forward to get a little closer to the water, when Maureen pushed me in!!  I WAS SO MAD - I wanted to hit her!  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!”  I was scramblilng to climb out and push her in, hard, when I saw her pointing.  “Look what you almost stepped on!”  she cried.  I looked, and right where my foot would have landed was a large, black sea urchin, its spines protruding.  She was right.  I WOULD have stepped on it.  I then felt bad about wanting to hurt Maureen.    I got out, hugged her, and we spent the rest of the day swimming and snorkeling.  Dad hadn’t seen the whole thing, but he was properly impressed when we told him our adventure.