Mike Dixon

His feet sank into ooze and his fins came off as he strug-
gled to get free. The effort was exhausting and he collapsed
back into the muddy water, breathing fitfully
through his snorkel. He‟d used his last store of energy in a
desperate attempt to get to shore only to find it was an il-
lusion.
The current carried him along. At some stage the bottom
of his wetsuit came off. Apart from his dive watch, mask
and snorkel, he was now as naked as the day he was born.
The sun beat down. Jellyfish attacked his bare flesh. He
sank into a stupor and might have remained in that state if
the cries of birds hadn‟t caused him to stir. He looked up
and saw a line of pelicans on a mud bank. They watched as
he was swept through a channel into a lagoon fringed with
palm trees.
„Hang on, mate!‟
He heard a boy‟s voice and wondered if he was dream-
ing.
„I‟m coming.‟
A small hand pulled him out of the mud and led him to
shore. David struggled to stay on his feet. His rescuer was
about eleven years old, jet black and as naked as himself.
The boy set him down in the shade of a palm tree and ran
to some bushes. He returned, dressed in shorts and carrying
a towel.
„You‟d better put that round you, mate.‟
David laid the towel over his loins and the boy vanished.
He wondered if he was hallucinating. The kid had drifted in.
One moment he was naked, the next dressed. Then he‟d
disappeared. David lay on his back and listened. In the dis-
tance the boy was shouting excitedly. Voices answered –
female voices.
„Rebecca! Go and get my medical bag.‟
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