What is Essential for Snorkelers?
Editorial by Joel Simon

In this issue of Snorkeling Tourbook we survey and evaluate a variety of accessories available for today’s snorkelers. As the sport evolves, so do the products designed for our comfort, safety, and education in the water. However, to even determine what items qualify as "accessories", we must first ask ourselves what exactly are the "essentials". For this I reflect on an early experience in the South Seas.

In 1985 I concluded a marine biology teaching contract with a cruise line in Suva, Fiji. As I walked down the ship’s gangway, I noticed a local young man loading lumber onto a pick-up truck whose exterior contours revealed years of service on equally topographic roads. "Bula" said the fellow with a smile, "My name is Tui". Soon I was helping with the wood. As we completed the task, he politely asked me where I was going. "Nowhere special, it’s my first time in Fiji. I just want to see the country", I replied. "Well then, why not come along with me? If you like, you can help unload the lumber."

After three days of loading, unloading, and loading the boards on trucks, busses, and boats, we finally arrived at the shore of Dreketi village on the island of Gamea. The community waded into the water to welcome Tui home .... and assist with the cargo. One youngster wailed, believing I was an ancestral ghost, another thought I was a market purchase, like the wood, from the big city. There I stayed, living in his parent’s house, for almost one month. While we transformed the planks into a sturdy open skiff, I became an active participant in village life.

The daily routine reflected the relaxed and joyous philosophy by which Fijians live their lives. Children scampered around the island in small laughing bands, sporting faded, tattered T-shirts, shorts, and tiny bare feet. Perhaps they came back at night, perhaps they slept with another family. Eventually they returned home, often wearing different clothes than when they left. Parents were not concerned. Among the villagers, love and care for the children was universal and shared.

The women spent much of the day working the gardens growing taro, cassava, rourou, and dalo and then later prepared the dinner. In the morning, the men did their chores, and Tui and I worked on the boat. In the afternoon, the men went out to spear the evening meal. I went with them. For this activity, preparations were always the same. I would rummage around in my bag extracting mask, fins, snorkel, gloves, booties, shortie wet suit, white nylon cover-up, mesh fish bag and line, and then spend some minutes climbing into it all and assembling my collapsible three-piece thread-jointed aluminum and stainless steel pole spear. In the meantime, they would patiently look on with curiosity and amusement, a tiny pair of hand-carved wooden goggles dangling in one massive hand, and a rusted steel shaft in the other.

Thus outfitted in polyurethane, nylon and neoprene, (perhaps I did resemble a mythological specter) and my companions in faded shorts and wide bare feet toughened through experience, we simply walked into the water, swam to the nearby reef, and obtained our sustenance.

Unlike Tui and his buddies, most of us don’t have to snorkel to feed our children. Survival is supplanted with recreational pleasure which we can enjoy for ourselves, and share with our families, and friends. And unlike those in remote villages, most of us have access to full service dive shops that stock a growing array of delightful accouterments designed to make snorkeling easier, safer, and more enjoyable.

While I use (and appreciate) many of these items, part of snorkeling’s sophistication is its simplicity. Even a modest pair of goggles can open our eyes to the wonders of the aquatic realm. The "freedom" of free-diving is a direct expression of just how little gear is really needed to indulge the three dimensional world of water. As I learned during those afternoons spent swimming with the "boys" in Fiji, the essence of snorkeling is not reflected in fancy equipment.

As with other elements of their village life, the essentials of snorkeling remain firmly embedded in human values: develop the skill needed for comfort and safety in the water, and be willing to share the enjoyment with family and friends.