An Account of First Contact

That morning, the tide was low as I waded through the shallow emerald sea surrounding our island, carefully gathering mussels Dad would prepare for dinner. It wasn’t as easy as you might think. The waves rolling up from the endless sea were too gentle to bring many with them, and those I did find were pretty small.

I knew I would get a better yield closer to the wooden stakes—you know, the ones marking the end of the shallow water. Even that far out, the water rarely reached my knees during low tide, but I knew I wasn’t supposed to go that far. I glanced back at the shore. There was almost no one on the beach, only a few kids playing on the sand.

I was 18, sort of. I had celebrated my birthday just a few months ago, and I had even been given one of those rare metal knives—the ones that only adults were allowed to touch. According to the old calendar, though, which you know doesn’t make sense, I was 15, and my dad insisted on following it as much as he liked his mussels to be well-cooked. Until, of course, there was some work to be done that only adults could perform.

I cast one last glance at the shore before turning back and walking further into the sea. The water grew colder as I came closer to the stakes, but I barely noticed it. As you can imagine, my mind had already begun to wander, envisioning all those treasures I would find where the seabed dropped and the current became stronger, washing up riches from the bottom of the sea. You’ve been out there, searching, too, haven’t you?

Maybe I could find some metal, I thought to myself. But even I knew that the chances for it were low. Most of the old wreckage had been salvaged and recycled long before I was born, and the sea rarely returned such heavy treasure once it had sunken to its depths.

That’s when I saw it. The heap of mussels, half-buried in the sand. They were larger than those I had collected so far. And they were different. I prided myself on knowing the sea like no one else, and I was sure I had never seen such mussels before. The water reached almost to my knees by now—but you know how it is out there—and the water was still too shallow for any dangerous creatures to have found their way in.

That’s when I saw it—another large pile of mussels next to the pole. As you might imagine, I was quite hesitant by now. Who would have thought you’d find such large heaps lying around? But mussels this big were rare, and I imagined how happy Dad would be if he got some for dinner, so I gathered those closest to me and waded back with my prize.

Auntie wasn’t happy when she found out where I’d discovered them. But she only had herself to blame. I would never have told her if she hadn’t asked me the moment she saw what I had brought home. However, that wasn’t the worst. Can you imagine my disappointment when she forbade us from eating them until she had run some tests in the lab to make sure they weren’t poisonous? And so, my precious dinner was gone.

I’m sure you don’t understand the adults either. You could spot from afar that those mussels were delicious, and I had already eaten a couple of them on my way back. Of course, I would never have told them that. I knew what would happen if I did, and I didn’t look forward to being placed in that cold, noisy machine until they told me I was clear and wouldn’t die a horrible death from eating something unknown.

In the end, though, I wasn’t too harshly reprimanded, and Auntie even assigned me the role of biologist with a title I couldn’t possibly pronounce. But being given such a role meant that I was finally an adult, despite what the old calendar told me. Unfortunately, it came with a price. I was forced to listen to another lecture from her on the “importance of adapting to our current circumstances”, followed by a lesson about the mussels I had found. To be honest, I barely listened. Anyone could have told you they were not the same as we usually ate. But in the end, I became part of the research team, so I guess it was worth it. Now I could do what I wanted without being told off about it.

The next day, I walked into the emerald sea again and waded towards the stakes, this time with Dad’s permission. It didn’t really feel any different knowing I was a biologist, apart from maybe that the sea felt even calmer than yesterday. But I guess that didn’t have anything to do with my new role in our community.

From a distance, I could already see another big pile of mussels in almost the exact spot as yesterday. Now, you must understand my confusion. You all know that the current would never bring them to the same place again. As I told you, I knew the sea like no one else, and was sure things like that didn’t happen.

I slowly made my way to it and carefully observed them through the water, just as Auntie had instructed me to do. And that’s when I saw it. Between the mussels was something else. I reached into the water, and a necklace made of beautiful green shells sparkled in the sun as I pulled my hand out. You must understand, I had never seen such a thing, and I stared at it with fascination until the obvious question popped into my mind. Who would have done that?

I unfastened the strangely shaped pendant from my neck that you’ve all seen—my mother calls it a cat—and placed it next to the wooden stake before tying the shell necklace around my neck. Back then, I didn't know what it meant, but even if I had known, I wouldn't have done anything differently.

The hut fell quiet, and I dropped my hands to my lap, watching the audience. Even after all these years, I still hadn't grown tired of telling this story, and I could say the same about our audience. They always came to see it. Our people and the Friends, even if they knew it by heart, still wanted to see it signed rather than read the “An Account of First Contact” which I had already loaded into our database a long time ago. I leaned back and watched as N’tǔṛ’í signed what happened after that.