Ocean Watch

Monday, August 17, 1998

Marine world’s wonders
revived through kids’ eyes

Last week, I had the privilege of introducing Hawaii's marine world to two special little girls.

One, Kali, I first met in China seven years ago when she was a baby, left in a box on a street corner near the hospital where I was working. It was love at first sight for me, and I vowed to always keep in touch with this extraordinary person.

And that's how I met my other special friend, Kristen.

Born with Down Syndrome, Kristen is the birth daughter of the couple from Portland, Ore., who adopted Kali.

The two 8-year-olds are now loving sisters, and last week their parents brought them on their first trip to Hawaii.

We spent most of the week in or near the ocean. It was the first time the girls had been swimming in salt water, seen dolphins in person or watched fish swim around in big tanks.

The kids were thrilled and so was I. Experiencing these marine adventures through the girls' senses transported me back to my own first times, often strange, sometimes frightening but always exhilarating.

One day I watched Kali peer at the ocean floor through her brand-new mask and snorkel. As I saw the leaking mask pinch her face and pull her hair, I vividly remembered that odd mix of anxiety and awe I had during my own first day of snorkeling. It was difficult, but the experience changed my life.

"Kali, are you breathing?" I ask, worried that she's been down too long.

She nods, face still in the water.

"Can you see anything?"

Up pops her head.

"Sand!" she bursts out, coughing slightly but eyes shining.

After some strap adjustments, she drops her face back to the water.

Several days later, Kali is snorkeling comfortably along the reef, searching for different kinds of fish. I'm proud of her. She never once considered giving up.

Another day we went to Hanauma Bay. The tide was high, with waves breaking on the beach. It was scary enough that the kids considered not going in.

I understood this, too, remembering my early terror of all white water. As I carry her past the break, Kali and I discuss this. Knowing that I too am sometimes afraid of the surf helps her overcome her fear.

Later, at a Waikiki beach, we played in the breaking waves until we were rolling in the sand, laughing. By the end of the trip, the kids were happily riding body boards at Waimanalo Beach.

Kali's first ocean experiences were similar to mine, but Kristen taught me some new ways of looking at nature.

For one thing, Kristen doesn't like loud noise at her outings. Sometimes, like at Sea Life Park, Kristen would close her eyes and cover her ears. "Too loud," she would murmur.

And for the first time, I noticed the combination of loudspeakers, conversations and vehicle noise did make it noisy there.

This sensitive child makes me appreciate those times I can watch dolphins frolic, fish swim and turtles drift in their naturally quiet, underwater world.

Kristen also has a special ear for animal talk. "The bird is talking to me," she said of a chirping bulbul.

"He is? What's he saying?"

"He says, 'I love you.' " She raised her face and waved. "Thank you!" she called to the bird.

In just 10 days, these two little girls reminded me how to play in the ocean, how to appreciate the many fun marine things there are to do in Hawaii and how to listen to nature as well as look at it. Experiencing Hawaii's marine world through the eyes and ears of these children was an eye-opener that will stay with me forever. Thank you, Kali and Kristen, for sharing your joy.