🌊A Morning Prompt That Sparked a Memory
A little morning card on my screen recently told me to “Celebrate World Oceanic Day.” Not a real holiday, not even close to June, but it nudged loose one of my favorite memories from the Big Island — the night I went snorkeling with manta rays. And if there’s ever a story worthy of World Ocean Day, it’s this one.
Waiting Out the Rain
It had started to rain while we waited to head out, the kind of soft Hawaiian drizzle that feels more like a suggestion than weather. One of the other snorkelers asked the dive master if we’d still be going out “if it rained.” I remember blinking at her. We were about to jump into the Pacific Ocean — getting wet was sort of the point.
Dusk on the Big Island
The boat drifted near shore as dusk settled in. We could see the lights from the Marriott stretching across the water, long gold streaks shimmering toward us as the sky deepened from blue to indigo. The air was warm, the kind of tropical warmth that wraps around you like a shawl. The crew moved with practiced ease, lowering a huge square frame of lights into the water. The glow sank beneath the surface like a stage being lit from below. The lights attract the plankton, and the plankton attract the mantas — a whole food chain choreographed for our front‑row seats.
Into the Water
With the light frame in place, we splashed in — one by one — each snorkeler taking hold of the frame and settling into an easy dead man’s float. The ocean was warm against my skin, and I listened to the subtle lapping of the waves as I drifted, face down, breathing slow and steady through my snorkel. The night felt soft as velvet, the kind of darkness that holds you rather than hides you.
When the Mantas Appeared
And then… there they were.
They came in silently, emerging from the darkness like ghosts with wings. Enormous, graceful, otherworldly. They moved with a kind of slow, deliberate elegance, sweeping in wide arcs beneath us. They were huge — impossibly huge — and apparently just as curious about us as we were about them. I had to remind myself to breathe. It felt like watching an underwater ballet, choreographed by creatures who had been dancing long before humans ever arrived on the islands.
A Moment I’ll Never Forget
Then came the moment we were all hoping for. One of those beautiful creatures rose from below and swam right up the length of my body, its wings brushing the water inches from my skin. As it reached my collarbone, it rolled into a perfect backflip, white belly glowing in the light, before drifting away again into the dark. For a heartbeat, it felt like we were sharing the same pulse.
A Glimpse of the Magic
Since I didn’t have an underwater camera, here’s a video that captures the magic better than I ever could.
Why World Ocean Day Matters
If you’ve never floated in the dark while a manta ray the size of a dining room table glides past your face, trust me — the ocean has a way of making you feel small in the best possible way.
If You Ever Find Yourself on the Big Island
If you ever find yourself on the Big Island of Hawaii, take the plunge. The manta experience is one you’ll remember for a lifetime.
Honestly, he’s a total throwback. Peaceful. Unbothered. Friendly to everyone. If he had thumbs, he’d be flashing peace signs and wearing a daisy tucked behind one ear.
Every place has its invasive species.
we’d get one big burst of chaos and then peace. But no. They operate like they’re on alternating shifts, ensuring continuous, rolling noise pollution from dawn to dusk. It’s like living next to a construction site that never actually builds anything — just revs, blows, grinds, and growls for the sheer joy of it.
Scene 2: The Return of the True Monarch
Banner retreated to the top of the cat tree — the highest point in the land — and gazed down upon the cardboard kingdom like a tiny, fluffy general surveying the battlefield.
