The Reef

by Di Morrissey

  Lloyd cut the engine as the day drifted into lilac twilight and the small boat slowed, heading for the shore of the little lagoon near Gideon’s shack. Carmel jumped out into the knee-deep water and pulled the boat until it stopped on the sand.

  Rosie, holding her sandals, her long peasant skirt bunched up in the other hand, swung her legs over and dropped into the water. ‘It’s only ankledeep, Jenny.’

  Lloyd threw the rope to Carmel, who trudged up the beach to secure the boat. ‘I’ll hop off and help you down, Jen.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ She swung her legs over and jumped almost straight onto the shore. She rolled down the legs of her cotton pants to cover as much skin as possible. Early evening was the midges’ favourite feasting time. Rosie handed her some repellent.

  ‘I hear revelry,’ said Lloyd, heading towards a glow through the trees.

  Single file they approached the Shark Bar. The burst of music from an old ghettoblaster on the bar was heart starting. Rosie swung her hips. ‘Dig that beat.’

  Jennifer laughed. ‘Salsa!’

  Carmel danced past them. ‘No, calypso!’

  Gideon had turned on the coloured party lights along the sagging thatch of the roof; outside, the flame torches burned with the tangy odour of citronella. Lanterns, candles and the electric light over the bar flickered with the shadows of moving figures. At first Jennifer thought everyone was dancing. But, like moths around the flame, the crowd hovered, swelling and receding around an unseen magnet in the centre.

  Gideon, looking even more genial than usual, rose from his favourite chair to welcome them. The others were quickly swallowed in the throng except Rosie who headed for the bar and poured glasses of wine.

  ‘So, Jennifer, what’s your latest news?’ Gideon dropped his arm around her shoulder.

  ‘From Headland Bay? Nothing too exciting I’m afraid.’ She held back from sharing her news for some superstitious reason, or shyness, she wasn’t sure.

  ‘And have you been working on that book of the absent professor?’

  ‘I have, very much. Thanks to Mac. He gave me a cubby hole to work in at the research station.’

  ‘Do I hear my name? Glad you came.’ Mac had extricated himself from the group. ‘Everyone is talking at once and the music . . . let the excitement dissipate. Grab a seat outside.’

  Jennifer glanced inside, disappointed she hadn’t yet met, or seen, the famous Isobel Belitas.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll introduce you to her shortly,’ said Mac.

  Rosie handed Jennifer a glass. ‘Have a red wine. Medicinal purposes,’ she winked.

  ‘Do you come over here much? How well do you all know each other?’ Jennifer asked Rosie. Mac, Rosie, Gideon. Each came from a different world on the island, yet they seemed so comfortable, so compatible.

  Jennifer watched the streaks of light change colour in the evening sky. She wondered for a moment what Blair was doing. But then there was a shuffling of seats. Mac stood up. And there was Isobel, being shown to the empty canvas chair next to Jennifer.

  She was tiny! Jennifer was struck silent as Isobel Belitas held out both her hands. Wide, dark-brown eyes, short wavy dark hair. And a smile, a huge smile, that dominated her face. A diamond earring caught the light and twinkled. Her hands were small, soft but strong. She wore a rich musky perfume redolent of night flowers. She was in red. Was she fifteen or fifty? There seemed no difference. She radiated energy, warmth, delight.

  ‘A new recruit. How good to meet you. We have a lot to talk about, yes?’ Her voice was throaty, slightly accented though more musical than Carmel’s. Still holding one of Jennifer’s hands she sat beside her. Jennifer felt she was under some incredible spotlight as Isobel turned her gaze on her.

  ‘We do, I mean, I hope so. I’ve been reading about you on the net,’ said Jennifer shyly.

  ‘Hah. Don’t always believe everything that’s out there. But I hope you found some of it . . . interesting?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Very much so.’

  Mac and Rosie moved to replenish drinks, pass food. Gideon leaned back, his arms behind his head, paying little attention it seemed.

  ‘And you are here because of your husband. Have you been here long enough to decide how important this place is?’ asked Isobel.

  ‘I’m not sure what you mean. You mean the work being done at the research station?’

  ‘What I am saying is . . . Are you happy he brought you here? Do you hate being away from this island, these waters, when you go?’ She cocked her head, the brilliant smile now faintly quizzical.

  Jennifer sensed there was more to her question. She thought a moment before answering. ‘At first I hated it. I’m acclimatising. If it wasn’t for Mac, Gideon, everyone else, no, I wouldn’t like it here. Except . . .’ She turned away, looking at the tranquil sea in the distance.

  ‘You have, as they say, unfinished business,’ said Isobel gently. ‘I understand that.’ She patted Jennifer’s hand. ‘Even if you don’t.’

  Gideon sat forward. ‘I’ve told Isobel what little I know about you, Jennifer. And what I feel. And about the book you’re doing for that professor.’

  ‘And what do you want to do? For you?’ asked Isobel, her eyes sparkling.

  ‘I wish I knew. I feel quite envious of you all . . . having such interesting projects and plans,’ began Jennifer.

  ‘What’s the book about?’

  ‘Oh, it’s a work by one of the professors from Sydney Uni, where I studied. He’s been looking at the East Australian Current . . .’

  ‘Oh, I know it! I have been in it. I call it the serpent,’ said Isobel. ‘It starts here in the Coral Sea, travels often around four knots and makes enormous eddies and flows,’ she waved her arm in a snaking motion, ‘like a serpent. It brings up nutrient-rich waters from deep below. And that makes fish happy.’

  ‘Talking of sea creatures, are there lots of whales?’ asked Jennifer.

  ‘More and more. When I first came here we hardly saw them, and the waters of the reef are their nursery, where they have their babies,’ Gideon explained. ‘Their numbers are way up now since we started watching them instead of killing them.’

  ‘Have you heard the whales sing?’ Isobel asked Jennifer.

  She shook her head. ‘Maybe on a CD. Can you hear them under water?’

  ‘Oh yes. You can come and listen if you like.’

  ‘Under water? Near a whale? Not me!’ laughed Jennifer.

  Isobel studied her for a moment. ‘One of Mac’s postgrad students is running a research project on DNA monitoring of the whales. A genetic study to find if they are family groups and how they relate to one another. The DNA samples will show that. We’ll take you out when we collect skin samples. They leave small pieces of skin on the surface each time they breach. We call it sloughed skin.’

  ‘Jennifer is not at home on or in the sea,’ commented Gideon.

  ‘Maybe that will change,’ said Isobel. ‘You strike me as a young woman about to make some big change in her life.’

  ‘Ah, Isobel, the clairvoyant. She is very perceptive,’ said Gideon.

  ‘She is indeed,’ said Jennifer. ‘I am definitely going to change. I’m having a baby.’

  ‘Wow, what news! Wonderful, wonderful!’ Isobel clapped her hands.

  Gideon reached over and clasped Jennifer’s hands and called for Mac and Rosie. ‘Gather round, gather round. A toast.’

  ‘Please, please, Gideon, don’t make a fuss,’ said Jennifer, rather embarrassed.

  ‘This news deserves a big fuss.’

  As attention turned to Gideon, Jennifer and Isobel, Rosie stepped forward and held her glass aloft. ‘Here’s to Jennifer’s baby . . . now known as baby Branch until he, or she, arrives.’

  ‘And may she make her first swim right here,’ declared Isobel, raising her glass towards the shimmering moonlit lagoon. There were more congratulations, the music was turned up, glasses were refilled and Jennifer was the centre of attention as Isobel sat beside her, watching an
d smiling.

  Later, travelling back in the boat with Rosie, Lloyd and Carmel, Jennifer reflected on the happy evening. She was glad they’d made a fuss. The news was out and she’d enjoyed everyone celebrating. Blair probably wouldn’t be pleased now the whole island knew. But it wasn’t something that could be hidden forever. Jennifer patted her tummy and thought of Isobel. What a powerful personality, she certainly lived up to her reputation. She had promised that she would go and spend time with the diver and scientist the following afternoon. And Jennifer had an odd feeling that, as Isobel had predicted, her life really was about to change.

  11

  Submerged

  ROSIE SAT AT HER desk, doodling on a sheet of paper. She was frowning, the cup of coffee beside her was cold. Despite the soft hum of the air conditioner, she could hear laughter and voices of guests at the reception desk.

  She rubbed her hand across her eyes. She had a headache. Patch had just told her that the maintenance team was having problems repairing the desalination plant, which was on the blink. Thank goodness they had storage tanks to last for a week or more. The rainwater tanks were low. Workmen, waste and water: the three major problems in running a resort on an island.

  Blair appeared in the doorway wearing white shorts and a plain turquoise shirt with a white turtle embroidered above his name tag. He was tanned with an air of charm and confidence that added to his attractiveness. The thought crossed her mind that with Blair’s appeal and Jennifer’s golden good looks, they would produce a beautiful child.

  ‘Come in, Blair. Few things I’d like to talk over. Close the door if you wouldn’t mind.’ This was unusual. Rosie ran an open-door policy of accessibility at all times.

  ‘Sure. What’s up?’ Blair pulled the chair to one side of the desk and crossed his legs in a nonchalant pose so it didn’t appear that Rosie was in a superior position on the other side of the desk.

  ‘The barge has just delivered the weekly supplies. Seems the part for the pump has arrived,’ he said conversationally.

  ‘Do you know what Fanzio and Holding are up to?’ she asked bluntly.

  ‘Up to? You make it sound like they’re doing something . . . illegal.’

  ‘I’m just wondering. You’ve had more to do with them than I have,’ she said pointedly. ‘Showing them around, socialising on Sooty and on the boat. Now this.’ She slid a letter across the desk with the logo of Reef Resorts International on it.

  ‘What is it?’ Blair didn’t seem particularly curious.

  ‘First off, it is a request from head office in London for a young man to come and work here, preferably on the dive boat.’

  ‘Whose kid is he? Son of one of the heavies being sent out to the colony before going to Eton?’ said Blair.

  ‘Quite possibly. I don’t recognise the name. Odd that it’s head office making the request and not a minion further down the line. The other more concerning thing is they are informing me that a team from HQ will be doing an inspection of Branch Island Resort with a view to – quote –upgrading facilities – unquote. What do you make of that?’

  ‘Sounds reasonable. This is a pleasant eco resort – classy, quiet, back to nature, that sort of thing. Maybe they’re thinking we should be more . . . ultra, über, chic. International style. That sort of thing,’ said Blair.

  Rosie thought the words rolled out a little too glibly. ‘And you think that would be a goodthing?’ Her face gave nothing away though her eyes narrowed slightly.

  Blair chose his words with care. ‘I know you don’t think so, but look what’s happening in other places round the world. There’s a demand by rich people for ecotourism in style and comfort. They’ll pay thousands of dollars a day for the right place in the right setting.’

  ‘Spending a lot of money doesn’t guarantee a developer will manage a world heritage site better than just leaving it be,’ argued Rosie. ‘Anything that’s pristine, places that time forgot – and there are a few – are going to be damaged simply by people going there whether it be in a tent or a tenstar resort.’

  ‘Some might disagree. There are examples of scientists treating protected areas as their own private playgrounds and not looking after them environmentally because there’s no outside monitoring. Where as a tourism concern would have to comply with extensive restrictions and requirements.’

  ‘You’ve obviously given this a lot of thought,’ said Rosie somewhat sarcastically. ‘If our company is planning to upgrade this place, they’ll have a hard time convincing me, the university that runs the research station, and the media. Let’s wait and see what this visiting team has to say.’

  ‘The media can work for both arguments. It depends who the journo is or what publication, doesn’t it?’ said Blair. ‘And I don’t think there’s a serious team coming out here. I figure Fanzio and Holding have pretty much got the picture after what they saw.’

  ‘You can’t be serious. How much did they see? They have no idea of the importance of this island, the reef, the work being done,’ said Rosie, thinking Blair had no real idea either. ‘What did you show them? Did they visit the research station?’

  ‘Not that I’m aware. Anyway, what’s the problem, Rosie? The more upmarket the company goes, the better the job opportunities, I say.’

  ‘That’s one way of looking at things. For me, being manager here isn’t just a job. Sure, it’s important for guests to have a good time, but the real privilege for me is to help them become aware of the beauty of nature and how special and sensitive the reef is. You dived on it yet, Blair? Snorkelled?’

  ‘Been too busy. I get a good feel for nature on Sooty. I reckon this resort can have it both ways, a far plusher, chic resort here on Branch with a day trip or a couple of days going rustic on Sooty. Low key, laid back. I like it over there.’

  ‘So I gather,’ said Rosie tartly. ‘Okay, Blair, I just wanted you to be aware of what was going on and keep an eye out for the English kid - Gordon Blake. And there’s no need to let the rest of the staff be any the wiser. He’s just another backpacker with a bit of hotel experience working here for a month or two.’

  Blair strolled from the office, leaving Rosie feeling she’dcome off second best. She had no doubt Blair was scheming behind her back by getting cosy with the slick boys. Blair was ambitious, nothing wrong with that, but Fanzio and Holding were middle management with a small say when it came to the international board that made the big decisions. Still, Rosie felt concerned enough to alert Mac to what was in the wind.

  Jennifer was working in what she now considered‘her office’ next to Rudi’s lab. She could, at last, see the end of Professor Dawn’s book, which she’d now subtitled in her mind ‘The Serpent of the Eastern Seas’ after Isobel’s descriptive analogy. Though, as she thought to herself, dry old Dawn wouldn’t agree to such a poetic title on his work.

  ‘You look pleased with yourself.’ Isobel’s smiling face peeped around the door.

  ‘I am, I am!’ agreed Jennifer enthusiastically. ‘I’m almost there. My boss, Professor Dawn, has emailed me to say he’s “delightfully surprised at the quality of the interpretation of his research material”. Must have given him heart burn to say that.’ She pushed back her chair. ‘Come in. What have you been doing?’

  ‘Talking to Rudi, listening to his theories. He’strying to prove that what people think are the insignificant plants in our seas hold cellular secrets to cures for ills and diseases on land. Like rainforests, but underwater.’ She perched on the other chair Jennifer had borrowed from the rec room. ‘Ah, Jenny . . .’ She pronounced it Jeneee, which made Jennifer smile to herself. It was a pleasing, intimate way of saying her name that, up till then, she’d always thought a bit boring. ‘How little we know of these things and then they have disappeared before we can fully explore their potential.’

  Jennifer gazed at Isobel. She was casually dressed in navy bermuda shorts, a red T-shirt, white canvas plimsolls and a floppy cotton hat with a wide brim. Her skin was smooth and olive, she wore little
make-up except bright red lipstick. ‘Your work sounds so important and intriguing. So Isobel, why do you do what you do? I mean, how does it fit in with your life? Do you have a family?’

  ‘It is my passion. Icould not do otherwise ever since I discovered the world beneath the sea. I lost my husband to the sea . . .’ She stopped, seeing the swift change of expression on Jennifer’s face. ‘No, not like your father and brother. I mean diving became my lover, my life. My husband left me and I do not blame him at all. He isa banker.’ She gave a shrug. ‘We have two nice boys. They are married. So . . . I am free. I hope that doesn’t sound selfish. Perhaps it is. Which is why I give my time and my work to serve the cause of the oceans.’

  Jennifer didn’t answer immediately. In a few sentences Isobel had summed up her choices. She had changed her life and she was fulfilled. Andfamous for her dedication and her inspiring work. ‘You make it sound simple. I hear stories of how women turn their lives around . . . I wish my mother had been more like that. She’s quite dependent. On me, her brother and his wife. Not that she would agree.’

  ‘And what about you, Jennifer? What are your future plans, dreams, ambitions?’

  ‘I’m having a baby. That seems to take care of the immediate future, I guess. It depends on Blair.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Isobel gently. When Jennifer didn’t answer for a moment she added, ‘Having a baby doesn’t mean your life goes on hold. I found it a very energising and enriching time. I tackled some of my more challenging tasks in the early months. Why don’t you?’

  Jennifer looked at her computer, knowing she was on the last chapter of the rewrite of Professor Dawn’s book. What would she do with herself for the next twelve months? ‘Once I have the baby I’m sure that will keep me busy. But until then – I don’t know. My options are a bit limited.’

  ‘Nonsense. There’s a whole incredible world out there. You can help secure its future. You have an environmental degree, you can help us.’ Isobel jumped off her chair and grabbed Jennifer’s hand.