Dia, and the Secret History of The Mermaid People or How I Came to Spend A Day with her.

From times as ancient as memory, throughout the wide and watery world -- from the warm waves of the Caribbean and Mediterranean seas to the frozen waters up North --- people have carved stories in stone and woven tales around campfires about "The Lost Continent of Atlantis". For have not undersea explorers discovered ruins at the bottom of the briny deep --- brick walls, mysterious carvings and what appear to be actual steps? And have not mapmakers exclaimed over the perfect fit the continental shapes make when you place them together jigsaw puzzle style? Ah, more is lost in history than there are pieces in a jigsaw puzzle. Perhaps legends have their origin in truth --- only you can decide for yourself. I can only tell you what the Mermaids have told me and ask you to indulge me for a moment.

I came to meet my first Mermaid in the year 2000. In that millennial year Ray and I celebrated our twentieth wedding anniversary (and the fact that no computers had stopped dead) by cruising from the majestic harbor of Vancouver across the wide stretch of the Pacific, gradually shedding the rush and anxieties of land for a more leisurely pace. After four days we landed on the Big Island in a state of wonder that such beauty could exist. Soil enriched by volcanic fires weeped with so much verdant nature that a lesson was learned in the looking: Beauty and abundance can arise directly out of struggle. Each island welcomed us with its own special look and unique personality, and everywhere we were showered with hospitality from the generous and forgiving heart of a great people. We made joyous explorations of the Big Island and Maui, but it wasn't until we arrived in the "garden isle" of Kauai that something happened that I am somewhat cautious about sharing with you, in fear you won't believe me. All I can say is that I saw her with my very own eyes and heard for the first time the Mermaid language which (in time) I was able to understand in baby-Mermaid fashion, if not yet speak myself!

It was early one balmy morning that Ray and I ventured out onto a sparkling pink-sand beach and found empty hammocks to take in the mountain-meets-the-sea splendors of that tropical vista. It so happens that we were alone on that beach, not even surfers were out that morning as the waves were gentle. Suddenly I saw a surfer alright, but lo and behold there was no surfboard, it was a giant clam shell upon which a beautiful fishtail maiden was sunning herself, eyes closed and feathery tail waving lazily. Astonished, I left my hammock and tiptoed slowly to the edge of the shore being careful not to rouse her. Wouldn't you know, I slipped on an hibiscus petal melting in the sun and shuddered to a halt, whispering "Woops."

With that the Mermaid opened her eyes, then darted into the foam, her tail flashing like the feathers of a firebird extinguishing itself in water. I froze in suspense and disappointment. A second later her lovely face emerged above the surface, with a look so innocent and curious that I had to chuckle. Her lips curled into a whimsical smile. Seeing that, I gestured to her to come closer, my heart beating so fast that it pounded in my ears like dangerous native drums. Fortunately, there was a perch closeby for her to sit upon, a rock that resembled a huge foot with distinct ridges in it like curling toes... she later was to tell me that this rock indeed was the footprint of one of the race of Giant Men that had strode the earth long ago. How was she able to speak to me partly in English? You see, surrounded by laughing, swimming tourists and Islanders all her life, this Mermaid --- for her name was Dia --- had learned quite a few words of our Earth tongue, although her accent was decidedly for lack of a better word, "bubbly".

"As my grandmother told me, the ancients say we came from the stars, from stardust scattered from a passing comet. The Great Dolphin had grown lonely and was tired of holding up his giant bowl of magic water in hopes of catching a companion or two to keep him company. But as soon as the fiery comet passed overhead, he lifted his bowl even higher to catch what he thought were fireflies. The bits of stardust splashed into the water, each one taking form, the form you see before you. I used to believe my grandmother when I was a youngster of only seventy-two, but sometimes I wonder.... Perhaps we do come from the stars, for sometimes bathing in the moonlight, I imagine a world with not one but three moons, purple, gold and orange, and when that image comes to me, I am flooded with unwanted longing. For a home I have never seen."

"So... your people came from the stars. Tell me more!"

"After the stardust fell, we learned from the Great Dolphin how to build homes for ourselves under the sea and even on land, for we were shapeshifters then as now. A great city arose we call to this day Talantia. There our Race was able to learn the ways of nature, tolerate differences in opinion and work together for the common good or maybe just for the joy of beauty --- this has not happened much since then on land, I hear tell. But one terrifying day, the earth opened and the same volcanic fires you see on the Big Island swept over the collapsing world of Talantia. It is no more than a memory now although my grandmother cried when she told me about it. We Mermaids still try to understand one another and get along... and that is why we are so shy around you 'Leggers.' (For that is what we call you two-legged land-walkers.)"

She told me her name was Dia and pointed to a secluded inlet where we could talk more, without the interruption of other Leggers. She swam to it while I dillydallied, collecting shells I found on the pathway. There, by a small waterfall, was a pool overhung with fronds and vines. And there we spent the whole day together, chatting, laughing, splashing one another and swapping tales of Earth and Ocean life until the sun climbed high in the sky. Then a quick rain fell as soft as ancestral stardust. After the summer sprinkle, we could see shimmering through the vines above us the arc of a double rainbow. Bit by bit twilight descended. To this day I treasure the coils of seashells and seaglass she gifted me with --- they anoint a special table in my powderroom at home and you are the first to know who gave them to me.

Fortunately, on that magic day in Kauai I had a gray pencil in my pocket and some scraps of paper: I sketched Dia in the midday sun and throughout the day, marveling at her dress and tail and composure.

"How did you come to wear such a lovely gown?" I asked her, having lost my reluctance to probe. "Oh that!" she uttered with a gesture that was surprisingly sophisticated for one so normally innocent in manner. "My bodice is quilted with threads of sea-snail trailings --- they harden in the sun into handy threads --- and I myself embroidered these shells and sparklies on the velvety petals of anemones. I pieced this together all myself into a quilt. And guess what, Carola" (for that is what she called me), "The Hawaiians, having spotted what we mermaids sew for ourselves, have been making gorgeous quilts ever since then! We're kind of proud to have started that tradition."

"I hope you don't mind my asking, but why is your tail as red and blue as a fighting fish? It's very beautiful..." I asked, tracing its feathery outline with shaking fingers, afraid to insult her but making note of "crimson" and "cobalt" and "purple" on the sketch.

"Oh... yes... that!" This time her manner was decidedly secretive. "Okay... we're friends by now. My tail became fiery and feathered when I was a foolish teen of two hundred and five and had a crush on a very handsome pearl fisherman from the island --- a Legger, but what a Looker. My heart has been broken several times in the meantime, but now that I'm seven hundred and twenty, I have grown wiser."

"Seven hundred and twenty?!!" I uttered, almost dropping my pencil, "You don't even look twenty-seven!"

It turns out, much to my astonishment, that Mermaids live for a long, long time, century upon century in fact, but only grow old and die when their dreams grow cold and withered, not unlike us humankind.

When I returned from Hawaii I took my sketch of Dia and my memories of our wonderful day together and painted her portrait (with her permission of course) on canvas, complete with gown, fighting fish tail, giant foot-rock, and my shaky toeprints in the sand. I decided to surround her portrait with quilted snippets showing the different times of day and evening that we had spent together. (In fact, her Mermaid name does mean "Day" in Spanish, although I doubt she was aware of that.) And so my first Mermaid encounter turned into a painting I named "Day in The Life of A Mermaid."

See if you can spot all the things in the painting that I've mentioned in telling you about our day together....

And so it was that in my travels since then I have befriended a goodly number of Mermaids of The World who kindly consented to let me paint their portraits. While they swam or floated about or sat upon rocks, various Mermaid dialects would emerge from their lips, tales of their people that kept them busy during the long poses while my brush worked busily on the canvas. After much time, I was able to understand these stories. Here is how their unique language evolved:

Over the longlived span of many a Mermaid generation, they developed their own spoken language from sounds that would move through water easily. They even created gestures that became a series of danger signals and a poetic sign language not unlike the storytelling hula of Hawaii. Having familiarized myself with Mermaid tales as my friends posed and entertained me while I painted, I can tell you that Mermaid language is descriptive and soft. Words, especially female names, often end in "ah" and perhaps this use of "ah" sounds filtered into the tongues of South Pacific island people. I have made a Glossary of terms in the Mermaid Language so that you can sample this beautiful, mystical form of communication, but I have not yet attained fluency since I cannot sustain myself underwater long enough to get more than a sentence at a time and often words get distorted by bubbles and waves. Mermaids and Mermen (for there are males too among them --- although not as beautiful as the women, yet do they excel in daring and strength and sometimes wisdom), Mermaids and Mermen have a name for themselves, "Mathoosi", which translates into "Mother-Ocean-Folk".

But there is more to tell....