Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
NICK
Nick and Wren spent half an hour just a little off the shore being talked through the basics of sea kayaking, how to paddle, how to steer and what to do if the kayak capsized. Nick jiggled in his seat. It was hard to imagine this thing rolling over – it was surprisingly stable even on the bobbing waves – but he listened anyway.
‘If you capsize, do not let go of your paddle,’ barked the instructor, Paola. ‘And if you do let go of it, which you should not , then you must get it back right away. They will float, but they will also float far away from you – and quickly. Your kayak is no use without the paddle. It will be hopeless.’
‘Ha,’ murmured Wren over her shoulder. ‘I think I’m going to be hopeless at this with or without a paddle. Sorry in advance.’
It was the first time since their brief hello that she’d spoken and Nick realised she had a North East accent. It sounded both out of place and nicely familiar while bobbing on the Mediterranean sea. Her dark brown hair was scooped up into a messy ponytail, and she was wearing little gold earrings and a thin gold chain clasped at the back of her neck. Despite her misgivings, he thought she looked strong enough with the paddle.
‘I think you’ll do fine,’ he said. ‘In spite of having to lug me around behind you. I feel like a kid in the back seat of the car.’
She laughed. ‘As long as you don’t keep asking me if we’re there yet.’
‘I’ll try not to drop crisps everywhere too.’
She laughed again and turned to smile at him, and he felt instantly gratified – a warm feeling spread in his stomach. But before he could try for a comedy hat-trick, Paola’s voice cracked like a whip and they were off.
The going was quite tough in the breakers, but once they were further out, it became smoother, and they coursed along amongst the other kayakers. Everyone exchanged happy, living-their-best-life smiles as they glided along like a crowd of baby swans behind Paola.
‘Okay, guys!’ she shouted. ‘Off we go. We go first to i Faraglioni.’ She pointed to the crop of rocks Nick had seen from the hilltop, and they paddled off towards them.
‘So, you’re from the North East then?’ he asked as they glided along.
‘I am. I’m detecting an accent from you as well.’
‘ Why aye ,’ he said, instantly regretting using such a stereotypical term and squeezing his eyes shut. ‘I’m, er, from Northumberland.’
‘Oh right? Me too. Well, it’s nice to meet a fellow Northumbrian. I would say it’s funny we never crossed paths, but it’s a bloody big county.’
‘It is.’
They paddled steadily for a little longer, until they arrived at the rocks, which seemed to loom above like skyscrapers. They weren’t the only kayak group hovering to get a closer look, but after a while, the boats dispersed enough for them to steer their vessel through the magical-looking arch beneath one of the stones. Nick felt unexpectedly excited as they passed through the narrow cavity, felt the cool of the shadows underneath, and emerged from the other side. Wren laughed in delight, looking up at the sun, and Nick felt a rush of happiness and gave an uncharacteristic whoop.
‘Enjoyed that?’ she asked.
‘Best thing I’ve done all day.’ The dour feeling of disappointment he’d felt that morning had lifted. His main reason for being here in Italy would rear its head again, and soon, but right at that moment, he was able to just enjoy being out in the waves. It was like riding a very gentle rollercoaster – he could focus on little else, and the endorphins were flowing.
On they went, following the curve of the island, until they reached a cave on the coast of the island itself.
‘Here is la Grotta Verde , the green grotto,’ shouted Paola, signalling to the cave mouth. ‘This grotta , we can go inside, to see the beautiful green colour in the water. It is like nothing you’ve seen before. We were hoping to go inside the Blue Grotto on the other side of the island later, but the sea conditions are no good.’
There was a collective sigh and muttering from some of the group.
Paola held her hands up. ‘It is forbidden when the sea is rougher, and dangerous. So we look inside la Grotta Verde now, and then we wave hello to la Grotta Azzurra on the way past later. The sea is the boss, not me.’ She shrugged and ignored the mild mutiny around her, waving people on to the cave opening.
‘Lots of people not very happy,’ murmured Wren.
‘Yeah, it’s a shame,’ said Nick. ‘It’s what most people come for, the Blue Grotto, I think.’
‘Some waiter in Sorrento told me it’s haunted by mermaids and witches,’ said Wren with a chuckle. ‘Maybe we’re best off out of it.’
‘Maybe. I think the currents bashing us off the rocks inside makes me more nervous though,’ said Nick.
‘Just like the sirens.’
‘The what now?’
‘Another of that waiter’s old stories. The sirens were mythical women, luring sailors onto the rocks to their deaths.’
‘Well, that sounds cheerful,’ he said. ‘Hopefully the green one is a bit more friendly.’
They followed the group and ducked slightly as they passed below the roof of the cave entrance.
Wren gasped, and Nick’s eyes widened as he registered what she was seeing. Below them was an eerie but beautiful green glow from the crystalline waters.
‘Oh my God,’ she breathed. ‘This is amazing.’
‘It really is,’ murmured Nick.
The water looked at once transparent and sparkly but also seemed to glow from within. The green shades changed like a kaleidoscope, from turquoise to emerald to aquamarine, depending on the way the light hit the water. He couldn’t take his eyes from it. Around them, people were taking out phones from their wetsuits and snapping pictures.
‘Damn. I left my phone in my bag,’ he said, realising his mistake.
‘Me too,’ said Wren. ‘I feel like an idiot now.’
‘I guess we’ll just have to remember it the old-fashioned way.’
They looked around, trailing hands in the water. Nick watched the ripples change colour as Wren’s hand passed through it, and as she reached back to do it again, her little finger grazed Nick’s as he did the same. The tiny, momentary contact of skin on skin under the water made him catch his breath. Maybe it was the thrill of being in such a beautiful, unusual place, or maybe it was being in the sun too long, but it was a strange sensation, like static electricity combined with déjà vu.
She pulled her hand back as if scalded and gripped the paddle. Nick yawned and stretched performatively. The easy conversation seemed to have stopped.
The next part of the excursion had been described as the most strenuous part – Paola had warned in advance that they would be powering up and around the east coast of the island, heading towards the north without stopping to look at anything else until the Blue Grotto. Nick’s arm muscles were aching, and he hoped they would at least take a break when they got there, even though they weren’t going to be able to go inside.
They’d fallen to the back end of the group, and the gap between them and the next kayak was steadily growing wider. Maybe he was more tired than he’d realised following his hike up Monte Solaro and the fruitless circuit around Capri town.
‘You okay up there?’ he asked Wren, whose shoulders flexed and pulsed with activity.
‘Bit tired,’ she said, sounding a little out of puff. ‘I’ve had a bit of a day, to be honest. I think I’ve had the stuffing knocked out of me.’
‘We’ll catch up though,’ he said. ‘And we only need to stick to the coastline.’
‘Yeah, I imagine Paola will stop to regroup in a bit.’
She sounded uncertain, and Nick didn’t blame her. Looking ahead, he could see Paola in the distance, castigating some guy who was trying to stand up on his kayak to take photographs.
They ploughed on, Nick using all the strength he could muster, but before long, the rest of the group was further ahead than ever and disappeared around the coastline as it turned to the north side of the island.
‘It’s fine,’ Nick said. ‘They’ll stop at the grotto and we’ll catch up then.’
Wren gave a determined nod and kept going. Then, as they skirted the north coast and he saw the grotto in the distance, there was no group of kayakers bobbing nearby. Instead, he could see them much further ahead, presumably making their way to the end point at the marina. A pang of anxiety hit him. What was the worst that could happen though? They would arrive at the marina half an hour late, and Paola could tear strips off them before they went home and never saw her again. They were grown adults and could follow the coastline without a problem, surely.
‘At least we can still see them. It’s fine,’ said Nick, although he subconsciously put some extra power into his next few strokes.
Just ahead and to their right, notched into a rocky coastal wall, was the small mouth of the fabled Blue Grotto. It was late in the day, but there was a smattering of solo kayakers hovering nearby to take a look, and at a further distance, the tour boats holding other disappointed visitors who’d hoped to get inside. Near to the cave opening was a small jetty with narrow boats that usually transported tourists from the larger boats inside the tiny opening, but they were all tied up and bobbing energetically in the choppy waters. A white foamy spray lapped at the rocks in small crashes, filling the mouth of the cave with water then emptying again. It was easy to see why it wasn’t possible to sail inside right now.
Despite their aim to catch up with the group, they’d both slowed to a halt. Wren seemed to be transfixed by the cave, staring at the wild opening, and was panting with exertion. Nick, if he was honest, was glad of a rest, so they sat there for a moment, catching their breath in silence. Within a minute, the cave mouth looked a bit larger, and the rock face looked a little clearer, and he realised they’d drifted towards the rocks in the swells.
‘Um, Nick,’ said Wren, reaching for her paddle, which in her exhaustion she’d just rested across the front of her instead of securing it to the kayak. ‘I think we’d better…’ Her hand fumbled for the paddle, and before she could get a proper grip of it, it rolled off the kayak and into the water.
‘Shit!’ she said, trying to stand up to reach for it. Since she’d dropped it, it had already floated a metre or two from the kayak.
‘Whoa there!’ shouted Nick as the kayak lurched violently to the right. ‘Wren, don’t! Just leave it.’
‘But Paola said…’ Her face was stricken.
The paddle shot away from the kayak, taken by the current, and was enveloped by the foam. All of his attention had been held by Wren’s panic, and they’d drifted even closer to the rock face, but her only concern right then seemed to be getting that paddle back. His heart raced, and common sense slipped away. He pushed his weight over the side, hands grabbing at the water in search of the pole, but nothing was there.
He handed her his own paddle, questioning his own sanity with even that simple exchange.
‘Just sit down and hold tight,’ he said, kneeling up on the kayak and reaching further into the water. His fingers were just shy of the paddle. If he could just reach a bit further…
Wren gasped from beside him as the kayak gave in to his thrashing, and it very nearly tipped over. He gritted his teeth and reached for the paddle one more time, stretching with a ferocity that was strongly linked to a desire to impress, and fell into the water with a splash. The spray had cooled him nicely while inside the kayak, but the shock of the cold now took his breath away, and he was tossed around by the currents. Above him, he heard Wren yell something, although it was garbled in the chaos of the waves.
Although he was a strong swimmer and wearing a lifejacket, he couldn’t overcome the strength of the coursing water, and his head went under. Coughing out sea water, his eyes stinging with it, he could just make out the end of his own paddle being prodded at him from above. He took it and yanked, trying to pull himself closer, but then felt the weightlessness of a paddle that had nobody on the other end.
Blinking through the spray, he could see Wren with her hands in her hair, and the paddle he’d yanked free floating uselessly nearby. And then he felt the rocks at his back, scraping at his arms and legs, and a heavy, pulling sensation as he was dragged along the wall. There was a brief moment when the sun still shone upon him, before he felt like he’d been sucked into a vacuum and everything went black.