We walked along the shore with its small pebbles, large enough not to stick everywhere like sand. We entered the water through the opening in the reef to avoid stepping on and damaging the shallow reef that had developed over millions of years. Everyone snorkeled at their own pace, and we soon lost sight of each other. I snorkeled slowly, marveling at the well-preserved reef and coral clusters. Occasionally, I dove down to get a closer look at a fish I had never seen before. When I reached the reef area in front of the camp, someone shouted to me,
"There's a rtle here!"
"What?"
"There's a turtle!"
"Wow, really!"
"Right beneath you!"
We took turns diving down to see the turtle, which graciously stayed in place, occasionally nibbling on some coral.
"There's also a stingray!"
"Really?"
"Over there, where they are snorkeling!"
They weren’t far, but when he said "stingray," I assumed he meant another spotted stingray, of which I had already seen dozens in the past week. Under normal circumstances, I might have swum over to see it and share the excitement, but I really needed to take a shit. I saw my dad already on the shore but couldn’t find the opening in the reef he had used to exit. Realizing I would have to swim the entire way back to the other side of the beach where the boats were anchored, I set off. The reef was beautiful, but the sun had already set, and I had been in the water for over an hour. Another pressure signal prompted me to assess the situation:
The other snorkelers had returned to watch the turtle, and the waves were in the opposite direction. I dove down, pulled down my swim trunks, got into a floating squat while exhaling air from my lungs, and pushed. Along with my bubbles, everything spread out and began to float. Fish arrived. When I surfaced, I saw the other snorkelers from the camp swimming straight toward me. I swam away from the scene, but before I could get far, I heard,
"Ew, what is this? There’s poop everywhere!"
I quickly dove down again, though they probably already made the connection. As I swam to the exit, I thought about denying everything if they asked.
"The guy who’s traveling with his dad pooped in the reef, right in front of the camp where we snorkel!" I imagined them sharing with everyone, including the girls and the one I thought I didn’t stand much chance with, but liked enough to try anyway. Besides, it’s not that unreasonable to see floating poop in such an undeveloped place with those kinds of "hit the hole" toilets, but they managed to set up Wi-Fi that sometimes works.
When I got out, I thought differently. If they asked or accused, I would explain it was an emergency, which it was. They would understand; everyone poops, and everyone has had at least a few times when they really needed to go, and if they didn’t release it right then, it would’ve ended up in their pants. When I got back to the hut, I debated whether to share it with my dad. The walls there were made of straw, and the huts were meters apart. In the end, I had to share. I asked him to keep it quiet because it was embarrassing, and briefly told him the whole story.
"A poop snorkel???" he blurted out, on the verge of bursting with laughter.
"Shhhh!" I hushed.