Freediving Mum

A mile away is a charming seaside village of quaint shops, homey cafés, and vibrant F&B establishments. The village is named something sur-Mer. The name itself confers lavish charm on itself without the village having to show up.

I have not brought my camera. Taking photographs can assuage the itch for possession sparked by the beauty of a place or a person. Our anxiety of losing a precious scene or sensual sight can decline with every click of the shutter.

People cannot just enjoy beauty. They have to possess it as well. The only way to possess beauty properly is to understand it, by making oneself conscious of the factors, visual and psychological, responsible for it.

***

Chapter 6:

Café

The morning dawned beautifully.

The sky is a spacious cloudless blue, of the exact same hue as the sea before me. The sky, sea and me in my blue blouse, are in total accord on this morning.

"Seb, I need my fix. Let's go for an espresso at the village café."

"The Coffee Dive". Tables adorn the sun-kissed patio as if painted there by the tip of an artist's brush.

It is early. The machines are yet to warm. I ponder this chance to reflect a moment longer, to drink in the aroma of this place.

The barista has a glimmer in her eye, a dead give away of her good heart. She is one of those surviving sparks, one of the ones who hold on to who they really are, proud of her craft. A gentle soul on good terms with the universe.

I ask for an espresso, and then, a danish to be warmed to a particular temperature, apologising, "Sorry, I'm just feeling like being a bit of a fuss pot this morning."

I see her spark glow a little brighter, her face more relaxed, a smidge more joy in her eyes, "That's alright, you be a fuss pot."

She speaks with a faint but recognisable Irish lilt. It is musical as only a human instrument can emit.

I laugh unexpectedly. I know that I am feeling that tiny bit better too, "Thanks for indulging me. I need that."

At the table, Seb perceives, "Mum, I've never seen you this happy. It is said that the highest and purest happiness is happiness for its own sake, not attributed to anything in particular."

This is what I love about Seb, beyond his being my sole offspring. The rippling jock swim torpedo with a killer instinct in the water annihilating all competition in his wake. And yet, a sensitive humanist attuned to the fluff of art, lit, music and philosophy. He can cite Marcus Aurelius, refute Nietzsche, demolish Sartre, and burn rubber hot-rodding Saturday nights through the town with his mates.

Seb makes me feel better about humanity's prospects in the furnace face of today's polarised political and social fractures. Seb has ambitions to be a creative writer.

I snap out of my flight, "Yes, I'm in a happy haze this morning."

The café has a gentrified yet homey feel. Mercifully spared of plasticky kitschy hip.

One breadth end of its rectangular layout is the barista's stomping ground. The other end is a massive glass window that looks into the depth of a swimming pool.

One length side of the rectangular layout overlooks the cliff edge, dropping to the moor of ocean. The other side is a wall adorned with underwater marine themed ornaments and artifacts, primarily diving.

We enjoy the view. Cliff, ocean, sky and cloud brought purposefully together to assemble this vision, for this moment, for our admiration.

You can be made small by a doorman in a posh hotel, by heroes of great achievement, or by the Sahara Desert. The choice is yours to choose the most satisfying way to be diminished. My choice of diminution is this assembly of wonder before me.

I feel half of me is ocean. The other, sky. I hear the ocean waves of time, hinting at a larger outer vastness. I hear sounds within sounds.

Infinity is not a concept. Not physics. Not math. It is an emotion. Then, it got mathematicized into a symbol.

I think of all that life can be.

Seb perceptively, "Penny for your thoughts. What are you thinking?"

In a philosophical mood, "That we are the mere playthings of the forces that laid out the oceans, and chiseled the mountains. Only the surface of the ocean is available for human observation and interpretation, while its depths conceal unknown and unknowable truths."

"Mum, I think that you're the ocean. You can dive that depth to uncover a little more of yourself."

We love swimming, watersports, all things water. We love the sea. To look at. To immerse in. To listen to. To smell. The scent of seawater on our skin in the sunshine.

"Mum, you never did tell me. How did you learn to swim?"

"We lived on the farm. Miles from nowhere. No swimming pool. No swim coach. But, we had plenty ponds and rivers. I learned swimming on my own, from a book borrowed from the village library."

"You did what?"

"Yes. It can be done."

"I believe you."

"How do you know?"

Seb pensively, "You're a noticer. I remember your shelves were lined with shells, bird feathers, pebbles, eggshells. The skeleton of something that might be a bat. They were just bits that were lying on the ground that anyone else would step over or on. Flowers growing tiny and low to the ground. But, you saw beauty in them. So, I can imagine you poring over the swim instruction book pictures by the waterhole, and then, making them come alive."

"But, that ain't the whole story. My family moved to Hawaii. Growing up there, slicing through turquoise waves is a birthright, as easy as stepping out the front door. Pleasures that cost nothing, belonged to no one, and were accessible to all. I perfected my swimming those years there. Hawaii is an exaggerated version of paradises everywhere else."

***

I relish such pensive moments with Seb. We enjoy the comfortable silences between us. The resting place of the mind is the heart. The only place the mind will ever find peace is inside the silence of the heart. And that is where we are.

A look of astonishment on Seb.

"What's up? You look like you've just seen a ghost?"

Seb moves to the massive glass window that looks into the swimming pool. I join him.

A woman is finning underwater. Other than her face mask and fins, she is naked. Her identity is obscured by her mask.

She fins gracefully, vertically down to the bottom of the pool, arcs dramatically, then fins up vertically again. In the next cycle, she spirals down to the bottom like a power drill, arcs, porpoises obliquely up.

Little do I know that the whole giddy swirl of everything that is to come begins this moment.

Her tan skin is stretched smooth and tight, like filled sails, over her chest. But, when her body tension falls away, she actually has sporty, fun-looking rococo breasts. Rather cute. Her pelvic bones stretch clear of her skin.

Her pubes, bushy, revealing peek fleeting glimpses of her femininity as she tunnels the water.

I smirk, "Enjoying the show?"

"What a glorious body of water. She is very talented. So at one in and with the element."

I realise that it is not Seb's hormones talking, but Seb the swimmer, the watery aficionado, "Yes, indeed. It's a wonder that we're viewing this in a public café open to families and children."

"They sure have a different attitude to nudity, don't they? Maybe they applaud this as art?"

"I'm really piqued by this. Are we viewing a life-like recorded free dive on a high-definition TV screen? Is this a show? Is the diver actually an underwater robot diving to a software algorithm?"

"Mum, why don't we ask the barista?"

The diver is executing loops now, close to the viewing window, as if performing for us, or maybe for Seb. I see Seb following her every movement in earnest, taking in the detail. I wait for this display to end.

***

We walk over to the barista.

"Excuse us. Can you please tell us a bit about the freediving?"

"Sure! The proprietor of this café, Rick, owns this building. Back-to-back to this café is an indoor swimming pool. Well, more like a tank. Rick runs a freediving school, as well as some other freediving activities."

"So the diver we saw through that window is a student?"

"No. She purchased one of Rick's freediving video service packages to record her dive as a memento. The pool is equipped with underwater cameras at various locations to capture the dive from multiple perspective angles. Rick can tell you more. His office is through that blue door over there, up the stairs."

"Many thanks!"

***

Chapter 7

Rick's

Knock, knock.

A good-looking tanned surfie dude with an insouciant winning smile gazes up with a back flick of ponytail, "Of all the dives, in all the towns, in all the world, you walk into mine. Hello! I'm Rick. What can I do you for?"

I smile. Rick is the type who can disarm an overly accessorised terrorist into expired K-Y jelly in a sec. He has the olive Mediterranean skin that seems to retain the glow of the sun long after it has set. He appears well-travelled, a sublime worldliness, carrying with him a trace of all the lands he has crossed. The type who sees the world as a small and easily managed place.

Rick ascertains us politely. A May-December pair is what he must be thinking. But, he betrays no leak of emotion.

"I'm Soph. This is Seb. We were at your café. We saw the free diver. We are watersports enthusiasts. Can you tell us about your freediving services?"

"I run freediving classes. Some of the graduates of my class, as well as other experienced freedivers, want a video record of their freediving as a memento. I offer a freediving video service."

Rick leads us to the poolside. It is illuminated brilliantly by a skylight roof construction, affording it a stark post-industrial glass, steel and water outdoor aura.

Continuing, "I've high-resolution underwater videocams installed at various points of the pool, to capture different perspective angles."

Rick points out the videocam locations.

"I've installed a grid of transparent cables vertically, horizontally and obliquely in the pool. The freediver may follow these cables by feel of hand, to swim in a particular pattern, for example, vertically up or down, horizontally, and so on. The cables are thin and transparent, invisible to the videocam. It will not be apparent that the diver is following any cable guide."

Continuing, "Most freedivers dive with fin and mask. A small number of experienced ones dive without any equipment, so that they look completely natural in the video. Like a human fish."

Seb curiously, "What was the arrangement for the freediver we saw in the café?"

Rick appears to process the question. He studies me, and then Seb.

"Some divers prefer something more memorable. Like, dive nude. Or, a couple dive. Maybe, a couple nude dive. Or, a couple nude dive with a bit of intimacy. It's really up to the customer."

"Do your customers feel awkward about their nudity?"

"The bold ones dive without the mask. Others enjoy the anonymity the mask provides, which allows them to express themselves freely without worry of privacy."

"What about the viewing window at the café?"

"I've a control button to open or close the window. It's up to the diver's preference. Some divers who dive nude with the mask, like the diver you saw, enjoying performing for an audience. Seen and yet anonymity preserved."

Rick leads us back to his office. He points to his computer.

"Once the video shoot is completed, I video edit the footage from the different videocams into a single video. I can optionally overlay a background underwater scene as if the diver is in a coral garden, shipwreck, deep trench. Or whatever. I've a suite of underwater scenes for the customer to choose."

Continuing, "Finally, I add in the music."

I am impressed, "Wow! Fantastic innovation!"

"Well, I was an underwater cinematographer for many years in Splash Studios before I opened this business. Labour of love."

Rick ascertains us again.

Addressing me, "Well, what do you and your partner have in mind?"

I am about to tell Rick that Seb is my son. But, for some inexplicable reason, I bite my lip. I look at Seb. There follows one of those pauses where people tacitly agree on something without really knowing what they are going into.

Turning back to Rick, I see a knowing smile. He must have heard all the things I did not say. Curiously, I get a twitch from all this circle game of innocent intrigue.

I do not know what came over me just now, "Cool! I'm interested in your freediving video shoot service."

Seb's jaw drops precipitously.

Rick passes a form to me, "Here, fill up this self-explanatory service order form on your freedive and video shoot preferences. My service prices, including promos, are behind the form."

Rick ascertains Seb and I briefly, "I've to attend to an admin matter now. Take your time to discuss this with your... partner. Would you like to do that at the café? Complimentary coffee for freediving customers. When you're ready, let the barista know. She'll message me."

"Cool!"

We make our way back to the café. I sense a series of tensions and relaxations between Seb and I, building a sense of anticipation, which is both enthralling and disturbing all at once, to resolve.

We order our coffees, sit down, facing the ocean.

I surprise myself. I shock Seb. I pass the form to him.

Matter-of-factly, "Seb, help me with this admin mumbo."

Now, why did I do this? Is it because I want to dive in full mermaid glory, and transfer the moral burden to Seb? That it is my son who wants me to dive nude? Am I being fair to Seb?"

I have to help Seb, to help myself, "Look Seb, we're a thousand miles from home. Just you and me. Blissful anonymity. Let's just let ourselves out. Swing out of bounce a little. Hang our hair down. Enjoy the place and experience."

I wink. Seb grins sheepishly.

Continuing, "You fill out the form however you please. We don't need to discuss. I won't look at the form. After our coffee, you just hand the form to Rick. I love surprises."

Seb looks at the ocean for inspiration. He appears to breathe the ocean wind air of the moment. He appears pensive, then smiles to himself. I think he found it.

He fills the form like a pleased student who knows all the answers in the final exams paper. Ticks the boxes methodically. And then appears to write a narrative.

Looking at Seb, I get a little worried. What has he committed me to? But, it is a delicious anxiety.

***

Chapter 8

Prep

Seb passes the form to Rick. A small look of surprise creeps on his face. Maybe Rick didn't expect the one wearing the pants to be the one wearing the pants in the family.

Rick processes the form. He looks a little astounded. But, he says nothing.

Rick nods, "When do you wish to start?"

I reply eagerly, "Now"

"Cool! I'll lock the shop reception entrance with a "Video Shoot In Progress, Come Back Later" sign so that there are no interruptions. While I do that, can you go to the changing room and prep yourselves."

I wonder aloud "Yourselves?"

Rick is a little amused that I am asking this, "Yes, you and your... partner."

Continuing, "Choose the masks and fins that best suit you in design, colour and size. When you're fitted up, put on the bath robes. We meet poolside."

Finally, Rick concludes in an uncharacteristically sheepish tone, "And, there is a trimmer and shaving kit in the changing room in case you need it."

I look at Seb with arched eyebrows. He shrugs nonchalantly.

Once in the room, I look quizzically at Seb, "What next...partner?"

Chuckling, "Mum, I signed us up for the nude dive. We'll wear masks and fins. The masks give us the anonymity so that we can freely express ourselves."

"Oh?"

"The dive is in two parts. You do a solo in the first part. We then have a breather. I then join you in the second part, a so-called couple dive. The result will be that we've three videos. Your solo video. Our couple video. And a combination of the two by artful video editing, with you starting solo, and me seamlessly inserting into the video at the appropriate time."

"Hmmm... You seem to have gotten all this figured out to a T."

"I mess around alot with video editing for my Youtube channel."

"I hope you're not planning on premiering your august mum on Youtube?"

"That's an idea!"

"Don't even think about it!"

"Just kidding."

"Hmmm..."

"Are you OK, mum?"

"It's a wee offroad and daring. But, I quite like the poetry of the idea."

I pause.

Seriously, "No other person apart from your dad has seen me naked. And he had to marry me for this exorbitant privilege. Now, in one fell swoop, my son and a total stranger will be seeing me naked. And I will be seeing you naked."

Sheepishly, "Mum, you've seen me before."

I instinctively look away from Seb. The memory of that poignant experience makes strenuous demands on my mind's eye. I recompose myself.

Seb assures, "Topside, we'll be in our bath robes. I will see you only in the filmy translucent pool water, in an artful rendition. Rick will not be seeing you in the flesh, but only on video footage, and again, in an artful rendition."

"Hmmm... Art purifies and justifies everything, doesn't it?"

We go about the business of picking out the masks and fins.

Yes, looking at the mirror, the mask, like an opera mask, does obscure my identity. For some inexplicable reason, even though I am no stranger to my son, it emboldens me. I leave the mask on.

I am kind of in another realm. A bit uncanny. What has come over me? I am not even in the water yet.

The changing room is not big. It has no compartments. I make an exaggerated movement of turning away from Seb. I peel off my blouse and shorts. Down to my half-cup bra and high-cut thong panty.

I adore the disproportionately huge power fins. I want to be compellingly powerful. And yet, I desire to be a fairytale mermaid. I feel like the competitive racer I was in my teens, power scrunched up in my sinews. I want the fins to be an extension of me. Here, I am a little conflicted. Should I choose the fin colour that contrasts starkly with my skin complexion? Or, a nude colour to match my complexion? As if I grew the fins. I will poll Seb for his opinion.

I turn around. Seb has picked out his mask and fins. But, I'm surprised his clothes are still on. What has he been doing? Maybe he is busy with something? He has an expectant demeanor. Has he been checking me out?

"Seb, I need your opinion."

I see a gleam in his eyes. I follow his gaze. It is my translucent thatch of lawn. And a little wayward spill at the sides. My first instinct is to place my palm over my thong. But, my right hand is holding the yellow fin, and my left, the nude colour one.

"I'm conflicted. The sharp contrast of the loud yellow? Or, the subtle seamless nude colour? Contrast versus harmony?"

"Put on the nude."

I chuckle at the seemingly contradictory statement.

"Can you help me put on so that I don't fall over. These fins are huge!"

Seb kneels before me. His face inches away. A twitch on his nose. I think he smells the beginnings of my arousal. I can't help it.

I hold Seb's shoulder to balance myself. I leverage myself on his shoulder as I lift my right foot. He slips the fin on. For a few seconds, my mound is inches from his face. Then, as I pivot my torso for the left fin, I inadvertently graze my mound against his cheek.

"Sorry, Seb!"

Seb runs his hand down the curve of my calf, then slips the fin on.

Seb steps away, but not before ogling me there one last time. As he looks up, his eyes lock mine. A fleeting bonding of sorts, although I don't know of what precisely.

Pointing to my panty thong, "Oh Seb, sorry, I've to trouble you one more time! I should have gotten rid of this before the fins."

I turn around, my back to Seb, in a calibrated act of modesty.