Ocean Blues


O'ahu, Hawai'i, 2015   |  Canon AE-1, Fujicolor 200

Summer came and went, yet the ocean still calls to my soul. It's been a while since I've been near the sea and despite my silly fears of this mass body of water, I love every single part of it. The sound of the waves breaking against the shore, the feel of salty air, the smell of the ocean — it's a beautiful harmony.

I long for the tropical days in the dreamy island of O'ahu. My three month escape in Hawai'i last year consisted of blissful mornings strolling down the beach after a good run; of quiet afternoons exploring neighboring beaches or coves that are a bike ride away; and of starry nights gathering around a bonfire, staring at the endless sky, munching on grilled corns and sipping on sparkling ciders.

I remember one sunny morning when I decided to ride all the way to Shark's Cove. It was a good 30-minute to 45-minute bike ride from my aunt's home in North Shore, which was crazy and something I have never done that resulted into my legs becoming a quivering mess on the ride back home.

Whenever we would go into town, we would drive by this particular beach and I always convinced myself of how near it was to my Aunt's place. I've been there a couple of times and it's one of the best places to snorkel and dive since it consists both of shallow rocky areas and some deeper parts where expert divers hang out for fun.

That morning when I psyched myself to venture to the cove to explore and take some photographs, I found a small alcove that was only traversable by descending through some pretty big rocks. It's been set apart from the main reef where the usual tourists and locals go.* A few experienced divers and snorkelers use this path to go further into the ocean.

There, I found myself in a private shallow pool of water surrounded by tiny fishes swimming about. It was absolutely magical and wonderful. Since I didn't bring any gear with me, I wasn't able to head into the reefs and snorkel. So instead, I hung out there for a while, just floating around while schools of fishes darted in and out of my private pool, relishing in the moment.

As I was there, all by my lonesome self (and the fishes that graced my company) I realized that living meant experiencing; and the only way we can truly discover and experience the world is by going out there, doing things we deem out of character for ourselves. No matter how daunting or crazy it may seem in the beginning, the end is always golden.

Experiencing means unearthing the magic and wonder in the beauty of our Universe and living in the moment. 

So go out there, collect your experiences and witness the magnificence of our world.

* The last three photographs were taken from that spot and from the distance you could see the silhouettes of tiny people. Beyond those rocks, they're standing on is the reef where all snorkelers and tourists usually go.