You know, I never really considered myself an outdoorsy person when I was growing up. The hustle and bustle of the city was where I felt most at home, amidst all the chaos and noise. Beach trips and hikes were never really my thing. I was all about city life, with its traffic, pollution, and constant worry about crime. But then, I got word that my grandma was in her final days, and she happened to live on this remote island far away from my urban existence.
Now, let me tell you, when I say remote, I mean seriously remote. Just getting to the main island alone took a solid six-hour flight. But that was just the beginning. Once I landed, they had this little boat waiting to take me to the island where my grandma lived. Another hour battling the waves. When I arrived, still feeling a bit woozy from the boat ride, my cousin Elio greeted me with the tightest hug ever. It felt like he was squeezing all the air out of me, but it was good to feel that sense of familiarity and belonging.
“It’s been so long! Last time I saw you, you were just a tiny kid,” he exclaimed, his hands showing just how small I was back then. I chuckled shyly, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Yeah, it’s been ages. I can barely remember you,” I replied.
But Elio was quick to reassure me, “Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time to catch up.”
He offered to carry my bags and told me that grandma was waiting. Her condition was critical, and I was truly grateful that I could make it in time. As we made our way to see her, Elio couldn’t contain his excitement and concern. “Grandma! Carlos is here!” he shouted, and that’s when I caught sight of her. After exchanging a few words and sharing snippets of my life, grandma’s gaze turned thoughtful, and she asked if I wanted to hear the story of Marisara. A smile spread across her face as memories from my childhood came rushing back. “You always insisted on hearing the story of Marisara whenever you visited,” she fondly recalled.
Although my recollection of the story was hazy, I was curious and eager to hear it again. So, I encouraged her to share it once more. Grandma began telling me about Marisara, a spirited young woman who lived in the heart of our island. She had this incredible bond with the ocean, spending her days exploring the rugged coastline and being captivated by the crashing waves.
“So, on this island, right in its heart, there lived a spirited young woman named Marisara. She had this incredible bond with the ocean. Her days were all about exploring the rugged coastline and being mesmerized by the crashing waves. Marisara’s love for the water was unparalleled. The ocean became her sanctuary, a place where she found solace and pure joy, losing herself in its vastness and power.
Her laughter would fill the air along the shore, spreading a contagious sense of wonder. But one day, tragedy struck. Marisara vanished without a trace, leaving the entire island community in shock and sorrow. People started telling stories, suggesting that her love for the ocean consumed her completely, merging her spirit with the very waters she cherished.
And you know what? Even to this day, the legends of Marisara persist. Some claim to have caught glimpses of her gracefully swimming amidst the waves or playing with dolphins. It’s like she’s forever intertwined with the ocean she held so dear. She truly became a child of the ocean.”
Grandma kept the stories flowing, sharing more about my childhood and how I was captivated by the tale of Marisara. She also described me as a curious and mischievous little kid, always excited to explore and discover new things. I took a leisurely stroll along the coast, feeling the salty breeze gently brush against my face as I witnessed the sun set. It might sound a bit silly, but I couldn’t help but wonder if the legend held any truth. Could Marisara actually exist? Could she truly be one with the magnificent ocean?
As night fell, I returned home to find Elio hanging out and having a drink with his friends. You see, there wasn’t much to do on the island once the sun went down. Nights were short, and everyone prepared for another early day ahead, which was quite different from the lively nightlife I was used to in the city.
Elio, with a friendly gesture, motioned for me to join their circle. “Allow me to introduce you to my crew,” he said, a warm smile gracing his face. As I exchanged pleasantries with them, one of the crew members handed me a beer and invited me to hang out for a while. It was during this time that I learned Elio made his living as a fisherman.
“Usually, we wake up at the crack of dawn, head out to the middle of the ocean to cast our nets,” he shared. “We bring our catch to the market, divide the profits among ourselves, and keep some of the fish for our own needs. Some days are good, some days are not so good.” Leaning closer, Elio confided in a hushed tone, “That’s why, from time to time, we resort to Muro Ami.”
Muro Ami is a popular fishing technique used in Southeast Asia, often referred to as the “reef crusher.” It involves a group of fishermen working together to catch fish in coastal waters and coral reefs. They set up a net between their boats, creating an enclosure. To attract the fish, the fishermen dive into the water and use wooden or metal poles to create disturbance by striking the coral reefs. This causes the fish to swim towards the netted area, where they get trapped. Sometimes, fishermen even use small explosives to disrupt the fish and improve their catch, although it’s important to note that this practice is illegal and tagged as harmful in many countries.
As Elio mentioned “Muro Ami,” I couldn’t help but feel concerned and curious. He went on to explain the ins and outs of their fishing lifestyle, from dealing with unpredictable weather to competing with bigger fishing vessels. It all boiled down to the simple need of putting food on the table.
“Don’t worry,” Elio jokingly reassured me, “we won’t get into trouble with Marisara.”
The crew members invited me to join them on their fishing expedition the next day, and I eagerly accepted the offer.
The next morning, as the sun began to rise, I made my way to the beach to meet up with Elio and the rest of the crew. I hopped on the small, cozy vessel helmed by Elio, complete with outriggers to keep us stable. It was just the right size for our crew of eight, providing enough space for each of us to find a comfortable spot. With a humble motor propelling us forward, we set off into the vast expanse of the ocean.
“Alright, boys, we’ve arrived. Let’s get things ready!” Elio commanded the crew.
Without wasting a moment, they sprang into action, making sure the nets were prepped and ready to be cast into the water. Each crew member knew their role and moved with precision. The nets were unraveled, ensuring they covered a wide area to increase our chances of a good catch.
As our boat smoothly glided through the water, the crew synced their movements and released the nets together. They unfurled in a magnificent display, creating a sprawling web that embraced the ocean beneath us. With a satisfying splash, the nets disappeared beneath the surface, eagerly awaiting the arrival of our aquatic friends. After what felt like forever, the crew’s spirits began to dampen as it became clear that luck wasn’t on our side.
In that moment of collective disappointment, Elio’s face lit up with a mix of determination and desperation.
“Maybe it’s time to give Muro Ami a shot,” Elio muttered under his breath.
The crew tightened their grips on their sticks, well aware of the procedure. Anticipating Elio’s signal, they were ready to plunge into the water at a moment’s notice. With a firm nod from Elio, they all leaped into the water and began striking the coral reefs with precision. Fish scattered in every direction, trying to escape the chaos. Disoriented and driven by instinct, the fish found themselves trapped within the meshed embrace of the nets. The crew members resurfaced, their faces showing a mix of exhaustion and accomplishment.
As we sailed back to the island, a strange sensation tingle through my veins, as if unseen eyes were fixed upon us, watching our every move from beneath the tranquil surface of the water. A captivating golden glow emerged, casting an enchanting light that flickered and twirled in the depths below. I tried to point it out to the other crew members, but they couldn’t see what I saw, as if the secret of the golden glow was meant for my eyes alone. Throughout the rest of our journey, I stole glances overboard, hoping for another glimpse of the elusive glow. But like a fleeting dream, it had vanished.
Grandma’s condition was worsening by the day, so I made the choice to extend my stay on the island and my fishing expeditions with Elio’s crew became more frequent.
After several days of disappointing catches, we reluctantly decided to resort to Muro Ami once again. But this time, there was a twist. Yours truly was chosen to dive into the depths and stir up the fish. I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the underwater adventure that awaited.
As I plunged into the ocean, my heart pounded with a mix of excitement and nerves. I began pounding the corals and the ocean floor, creating a commotion to startle the fish. That’s when I saw it—the mesmerizing golden glow, even more vibrant and closer than before. It caught me off guard, and a surge of panic coursed through my veins.
Amidst the chaos, I somehow managed to get my foot tangled in one of the ropes attached to the net. Panic surged through my veins as I struggled to break free, the desperate need for air intensifying with each passing second. It felt like a scene straight out of a nail-biting movie.
Time seemed to slow down as I fought against the entangled mess, desperately trying to free myself from its grasp. The last thing I remembered was this bizarre glowing light swirling around me, and then everything went black. The next thing I knew, I woke up on the sandy beach, completely disoriented. Little did I realize that months had slipped by while I was out cold.
So, I dragged myself back home, eager to see Grandma and share my wild experience. But when I got there, my heart sank. Grandma wasn’t around anymore. Grandma had passed away while I was lost in the oceanic abyss. As I caught up with Elio and the crew, they filled me in on the day I vanished. Apparently, I disappeared without a trace underwater, leaving them scratching their heads in disbelief. They launched an extensive search, hoping to find any sign of me, but it was like I had evaporated into thin air.
By now, you probably understand that there was no way I could go back to the city without unraveling the mystery of my disappearance. Elio and the crew, being the responsible bunch they were, suggested that I take some rest before heading back to the main island and returning home. However, one restless evening, under the cover of darkness, I made my grand escape and, let’s say, “borrowed” a small boat that happened to be conveniently docked on the beach.
Without giving it a second thought, I fired up the small engine and set off into the vast expanse of the ocean. As I sailed deeper into the ocean, I couldn’t help but notice a peculiar sight: a glowing light emerging from beneath the water’s surface. With only the moon and my trusty little flashlight to guide me, I quickly shut off the engine. The light seemed to dance and circle around me, resembling a predator toying with its prey. I couldn’t help but feel a mix of awe and unease as I watched.
The silence was broken by a calm yet eerie voice. “Well, looks like you got yourself a second shot at life,” it said.
A lump formed in my throat as I managed to ask, “Who are you?” The voice paused for a moment before responding, “Come on now, you know me. Your grandma used to tell you all about my story.”
It clicked in my mind, and I blurted out, “Marisara?”
“Yours truly. You see, I had to do what I did months back when you “disappeared”.”
“Why don’t you come down here so I can explain.” said Marisara
“Well, why should I come down there? Give me a good reason,” I shot back. Before I could even process what was happening, I was suddenly yanked into the water by some invisible force.
Panic gripped me as I struggled to swim upward, thinking this might be the end. But then Marisara grabbed my hand, her touch cold yet strangely reassuring.
“Chill out, breathe easy, and open your eyes. You’ll be fine,” Marisara reassured me. So, I took a leap of faith and did as she said.
I was blown away when I realized I could breathe underwater without a hitch. My vision remained crystal clear, and the saltwater didn’t even sting my eyes. And there she was, Marisara, right in front of me. Her skin had this beautiful warm brown tone, and her hair flowed like seaweed underwater. Her eyes had this mysterious allure, drawing me in with their almond shape. And let me tell you, her white dress was absolutely stunning, shimmering with an otherworldly glow.
“So why me?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around the situation.
“I’ve known you for ages,” she replied. “Ever since you were a little kid, I’ve been watching over you. It’s fate that brought us together right now.”
“What? How is that even possible?” I blurted out, completely baffled.
“You can’t escape from here. No matter what you do, you’ll always find yourself drawn back to this place. You were chosen for me.” she explained.
As her words sank in, a sense of dread washed over me. Marisara’s skin started to shed. Its skin was pale and mottled, as if it had spent centuries submerged in the murky waters. Jagged, razor-like scales covered its body, glinting ominously in the faint light. At that moment, I realized I was in deep trouble. I kicked my legs, desperately trying to swim back to the safety of the boat, but the creature was faster. Its cold, slimy grip closed around my leg, pulling me deeper into the depths.
Fueled by fear, I thrashed, striking the creature’s face as I fought to swim towards the surface. Igniting the boat’s engine, I raced back towards land, with the creature hot on my trail. Just as I neared the island, it caught up to me, pounding a hole in the boat’s hull, causing a violent crash against a massive rock and flinging me back into the treacherous ocean. With no other options, I struggled to stay afloat, desperately paddling to keep myself above water. Suddenly, a glimmer of hope emerged in the distance—an approaching boat. I screamed for help, hoping against hope for a rescue. But then, I was yanked beneath the waves, sharp teeth gnashing at my arms and legs.
Refusing to give up, I fought to break free and resurface. It was then that I saw the man on the boat—it was Elio. Once again, I cried out for assistance as he reached out a hand. With every ounce of strength I had left, I pulled myself onto the boat, my body battered and bleeding. We raced back to the island, driven by urgency.
“Can you still steer this boat back to land?” Elio asked, his voice filled with urgency. Nodding, even though exhaustion coursed through my veins, I resolved to do whatever it took.
“I’m sorry I dragged you into this, the Muro Ami,” Elio confessed. “It’s time to put an end to this once and for all.”
Opening his bag, he retrieved a handful of explosives, lighting them before plunging into the ocean to face the creatures head-on. As I looked back, I saw Elio’s head break the water’s surface, his face contorted with a final scream.
“Go now!” he cried. In an instant, he was dragged under, and a deafening explosion ripped through the air, shaking me to my core.
Since then, I’ve been stranded on this island for years. Some fishermen are still claiming that Marisara is still out there. The thought of returning home has eluded me, for every time I gaze out toward the ocean, all I can hear is Elio’s scream.