Scars (from Jared)

You all know that scene from the movie "Jaws" when Brody, Quint, and Richard Dreyfuss's character are sitting around the salon showing off their scars and laughing about them? I lived that the other night. There we were, the Captain and me and some speared fish on the deck of the "Brown-Eyed Girl" anchored of Hiva Oa in the paradise of the Marquesas. We had just dived with Manta rays and the Skip had taken a couple nice fish.

"Hey Captain, you think these black sea-urchin spines stuck in my index finger will fester?", I asked. He had tried to remove them several days back with no success. They were and still are buried too deep to remove with the prying of a needle and no lidocain (ouch).

"Nah, they will probably work their way to the top", the Captain replied. Probably? I have never like "probably" as an answer when it comes to things regarding my health and I've always hated needles and that's what a black sea-urchin spine (or five- have a couple in my forearm from wrestling with an octopus to get him out of his hole free-diving at 45 feet-Octopus won)is. The sodium bicarbonate and water solution I had made to dissolve the spines had helped but not alleviated the problem.

"Hey Cap, what about this numbness in my index finger from the yellow fin tuna caught on the handline? Will that go away? It's been like three weeks."
He returned with a factual and not-so-reassuring, "Probably. Nerve regeneration occurs at one mm. a day, if it occurs at all."

I must have had a perplexed, possibly worried, look on my face when I said, "The tip of my finger isn't that big, Skip. How's your arm doing, by the way?" He flexed it and looked at the scars from the surgery that connected tendon to muscle.

"Yeah, it's doing well. Not a hundred percent, but coming along. My ribs are the problem. That dinghy ride the other day beat the hell out of me. You mind cleaning off our dive gear while I clean some fish? Look at those scars on your feet. Those are from you not wearing your dive boots in the San Blas islands, right? Were the conch, worth it?"

"Affirmative. Not a problem. Stay the hell away from those wasps that keep checking in on us. One nailed me on the tip of the finger as I entered the cockpit and placed my hand on the canvas." The wasps here have some special Marquesan Tiki mojo going on to punish those who spear fish. I am convinced. We had just hours before visited the largest of all Tikis in the Marquesas before I was stung. After a long climb up a verdant mountain we found ourselves among the basalt stone remains of the Chief's hut and this large stone face placed among smaller stone heads. I wondered if my scream and epithets from that wasp sting made that face cringe or smile.

The Captain grinned and asked, "Weren't those the same wasps you said would leave us alone if we left them alone?"

"Apparently, accidentally placing one's finger on one isn't leaving them alone. Time to wage war on 'em.", I laughed and sprayed another one in mid-air with the fresh-water hose and watched it fall to the deck. I grabbed a dive-fin and sent it to the happy stinging grounds in wasp heaven. "I doubt it will leave a scar like this bullet ant left on my left index finger", I said holding my finger out. "That was Guatemala in the year of '93 and still there is a scar..from a miserable little ant. Just once, why can't I get a cool scar? Why can't I just have one of these black-tip reef sharks I keep seeing leave a little rub-burn wound as it passes by me in the water and does one of those 'food or not food checks'? Now, that would be a scar worth taking my shirt off in a bar and bragging about."

The Captain just shook his head, smiled, and grabbed the filet knife and got to work. I could see the wheels turning in his head as he thought about the next leg, the next anchorage, and soon, being reunited with the lady on the isle of Nuka Hiva. I returned to cleaning the gear and began thinking of my lady and when we would be reunited.

Well, you all get the picture. The Skip and I are a little beat-up and wouldn't change it for the world. Scars remind us of our wins, draws, and losses. As always, miss and love you all. Merce, te amo. Will be posting pics as soon as I get that thing I remember as "internet?".

"Brown-Eyed Girl" out...