The pearl hunter

He was young and well-built, broad-chested and with wiry muscles. The smooth skin, with the tan of an endless summer, radiated health and strength, and it could make countless women’s looks caress and crave it. The walk provoked sighs and evoked reveries, the hair fell in large waves onto his shoulders, played with the wind and with the freedom…

Just a pearl hunter… almost happy…

He loved the ocean and the sunbeams over the waves, he loved the warm air and the smell of the afternoon showers, he loved life and the constant feeling that he exists, he loved the colours of the sunset, he loved the equator zone… but he was madly in love with the underwater world, with the fantastic allure of the coral isles and their unique tranquillity.

He could not imagine life without the slow swing of the seaweed and the furrowed sandy seabed. Without the starfish and the pearl clams... One could not find words to describe what he experienced underwater. The only way was to feel it… and he had. This beautiful magic was priceless and nothing could take it away or replace it. It was love and excitement. It was real life.


He reached the boat and threw the flippers inside. He took the oxygen tank off his shoulder, stepped overboard and carefully placed it on the bottom. He had always preferred to submerge without the help of the equipment, but the pearl clams near the coast were long gone and he had to go deeper and deeper in the ocean to find any.

He untied the rope, thrust away from the shore and started the engine. The boat swept over the blue expanse, leaving wavy traces of white foam, his hair opened up like wings against the wind and he felt again the eagerness, the desire to dive into the salty universe and remain as long as possible in its lavish embrace.

The pearls it gave him fed him and ensured his livelihood, they made his life easy. Thanks to them he had the oxygen equipment, and his nice house on that island, and… everything. But none of these were the most important. What joy could one find, having once seen this enchanting beauty, to lose it afterwards? How could he move to some other place, when he knew that he would be leaving his enraptured soul here?
He wasn’t interested in wealth. He was rich enough already. He knew that from now on, if he could not find even one pearl, he was still going to have enough resources for years, but he was chasing his dream… He would sink into the fairy universe amongst colourful corals, the large lazy jellyfish and the calm motley fish, amongst the silence of the lulling waves, amongst the underwater expanse, and search, search, search…

His eyes would fill with beauty, and his sight couldn’t get enough and would want more and more.

He knew that one day he was going to find it and he was patient. His dream… The enormous pearl clam… The dream he had been dreaming since his childhood… The enormous pearl clam… The enormous pearl clam… It would give meaning to everything… It would take him closer to beauty and love, to the magic of the underwater world… It would make him a part of the miracle… It would make him really happy.

He had reached the right place. About a hundred metres away the islet was glowing with its coral charm, caressed by the gentle waves.

The hunter threw the weight he used as an anchor into the water, tied up his hair into a ponytail and fixed the tank. He wet his flippers, put them on, wiggled his toes to check whether they were on properly, and after that he put his mask on. He sat on the edge of the boat and thrust himself out with his legs.

His back met the cool surface, which opened and took him into its embrace with some kind of special tenderness that could be felt only by him. The sun refracted through the water and made its colour even more gentle and translucent. The millions of molecules rubbed blissfully against his body and their inaudible sound gave him a hint that the Day had come. He was almost certain that today he would find it. Or maybe it would find him.

He started swimming near the surface, watching the bottom. The depth was no more than six metres, and the water – amazingly clear. The sound of the flippers merged with the light breath of the ocean, with the swinging of the waves and of his breath, which turned into colourless bubbles.

He took a deep breath from the tank and rowed downwards. The sand came closer and bit by bit the scenery became clearer: a stone overgrown with seaweed, a school of small fish in a hurry, the flickering light of the refracted sunrays and his shadow floating over the rippling bottom.

He heard a quiet distant call.

He felt it. Deep inside him.

It was crawling through his subconscious and breathlessly trying to reach him. It was squeezing through the tangle of lethargic thoughts and coming closer.

The man kept on swimming without thinking of the direction. Now he was absolutely sure that the day had come… that it was calling him… that it was leading him… as well as the many other times before… just as every night, just as in every dream…

A warm current came from somewhere and carried him towards the approaching whisper, towards the glimmer of what he craved.

A vermilion starfish tried to catch his attention, shouting with its beauty, calling his eyes with its loveliness, but it remained uncaressed by his eyes. The hunter was powerfully rowing, having felt in his chest the great desire to get there as soon as possible, and, enchanted by the silent call, he was anticipating the bliss that awaited him.

In the distance, where the colours were becoming denser and dimmer, a blurry spot appeared. The warm current disappeared or cooled down, but wherever it had gone, it had done its work. The pearl hunter felt how quickly his heart started beating, he felt how more bubbles rushed to the surface and he started swimming slower not to spoil the magic.

The bottom began to sink in and the slight slope to grow steeper, enticing him to secret depths, and on the verge of the smooth and the steep stood She.

Just like in his dreams.

Huge and white.

With waves that clung to the shell, woven into her beauty. With bright sun rays, running scattered over the matt whiteness. With soft magnificence and enchanting indescribability.

So, he found her… the dream was true… the dream was right before his eyes… giving meaning to everything… approaching the beauty… the miracle of the underwater world…

He approached and ran his hand over the waves. His palm filled with phosphorescent pleasure, his breath stopped.

He went round her, looked her all over, and delighted by her incredible size, a quiet moan went off in his soul – she was really splendid…

He grasped her from underneath and tried to lift her. Even here, in the water, she was so heavy that he hardly managed to tug her off the bottom. He bent his back, strained himself and when she moved again, he thrust her down the slope.

A sand vortex rose up and the trace from the sliding clam smeared the reflection of the waves over the bottom.

When the sand particle mist settled down, he saw her five or six metres downhill, lying a little askew. He approached her and pushed her again. The depth now was great enough – hardly anyone would come that far…

He felt weakness and fatigue. The water pressed him as if it wanted to stop him. He swam upwards towards the surface, waited for a while to restore his normal breathing and in a minute or two he dived.

He cut the rope of the anchor and imagined the wind and the waves taking the boat far away. He started rowing downwards, made a backward thrust with his legs , rowed again, and again, and deeper. The pressure was enormous. For a moment he thought he shouldn’t have pushed her that deep, that he wouldn’t be able to reach her…

He looked at the enchanting whiteness and again heard her call in his consciousness. The sunlight hardly penetrated here, but the clam was slightly phosphorescing.

Phosphorescing and opening…

Phosphorescing…

And opening…

Opening…

The whisper of dreams bygone fused with the imaginary sound of winds and the man felt a slight, distant sadness for the other world. There was an abundance of beauty in it, too, countless ways to feel happy…

But for the Pearl Hunter the happiness could only be one thing. Just one single thing. Only the absolute fusion with the underwater magic… Only the breathless happiness to be a part of it… to be a slight gleam in the radiance of the miracle…

He took a deep breath and took the tank off his back. He threw it away and after that the flippers. He untied his hair and it spilled in the water. He took off his mask and his eyes started hurting from the pressure.

There was nothing he would need any more. Because the open clam was before him and was waiting…

He approached carefully and lay down onto her flesh, curled up like an embryo. He exhaled his air, and it squeezed through the closing shell. It clattered over him hollowly and hid the light. Now he was going to stay here forever. He was going to be a small piece of all that beauty…

He imagined how many years from now he was going to turn into a large pearl and smiled.

Yavor Tsanev
Translated from Bulgarian: Julia Nefedova