Boy Meets Gills

We went to Maui for our honeymoon. One of the days we were there, we took a trip out to Molokini, a reef in the top of a sunken volcano about 2-1/2 miles off the coast. The ride there was better than snorkeling in the crater, though. Well, maybe for me anyway.

The sun made my skin tingle and my long hair stung my face as we sped along in the converted fishing boat. Mr. T and I didn't talk because the wind noise wouldn't let us. We bounced along enjoying the view. We gave another tourist our camera so he could snap a picture of us.

Then, we stopped. But we weren't at Molokini, we were floating with nothing but sea between us and, well, nothing. The captain came over the speakers. He was too excited for it to be an emergency. Soon, the boat crowd was scurrying and jostling for a good view -- fifty pairs of hands cupped over 50 sets of curious eyes to scan the calm blue.

But we didn't need them to see what we had been told to look for. The backs of a mother humpback whale and her calf broke the surface, and all of us onlookers gasped.

They weren't that far away from us, maybe a couple of city blocks. They were breeching. Beautiful nature. This one-time wannabe marine biologist was in awe. I didn't grab for my camera; I didn't want a lens between me and this magical memory.

Recently, when I asked Mr. T about what we saw on the way to Molokini, he said, "Whales? What whales?"

*sigh*

Anyway, he took Friday off of work and we decided it would be a good day to take T Junior to the Seattle Aquarium since our boy is part baby, part fish these days.

(I really wanted to go, too. I love strolling through these tributes to ocean life, peeking in on their mysterious underwater world. I don't like having aquariums in my house, though. Surprising, I know.)

We could tell T Junior was enjoying himself.

He was doing the fishy face like nobody's business.