This quarter I read three very interesting books, all from the Artemis Fowl series, by Eoin Colfer. First, I read The Eternity Code. In this book, the young criminal mastermind and main character, Artemis Fowl, creates a mini supercomputer from fairy (yes, fairy) technology. He proceeds to get it stolen, and enlists the help of a fairy swat team to get it back. I enjoyed this book very much, albeit having the fairies. The next book in the series i read is called The Opal Deception. In this book, Artemis has a mental and physical battle with a fairy called Opal Koboi. She steals a famous painting, traps him in a troll-infested cave, and almost kills him. In the end, however, he wins, dooming her to a fate as a poor human. The third and final book I read in the series was called The Lost Colony. In this last story, Artemis figures out how to get access to a demon from a “4^th dimension”. He has a monstrous fight over said demon with a rival genius. Of course, being the good guy, he wins, and “mind-wipes” the rival. Overall, I very much enjoyed this series, and would recommend it to anyone who likes sci-fi reading.

“What?! We’re not going?!” I sputter, my face livid. “Why not?!”

“Gotcha!” laughs my dad. “We’re driving up in 20 minutes.”

“Yess!” We are going to the famed Table Mountain, in the Cape of Good Hope on the tip of Africa. I have only been there once before, when I was 7; a beautiful place where you can see all of Cape town and the surrounding area.

In what feels like 30 seconds, we are on our way. Driving past the dirty little town of Vishoek. It is our last day here, we fly back tonight. But I put that into the back of my mind as I excite myself about this experience. After about half an hour, we finally arrive at the base of the mountain. From here we can see the small blue cable cars, dangling on what seems like a piece of fishing line, from the top of the mountain.

Inside, we are stuck in the line for what feels like hours, waiting to buy our tickets. Walking into the station, there is one of the old cable cars, battered and beaten, painted a flat red color.

“Man, imagine going up in that, hey?” I say to my dad and Alastair.

“Yah, a rickety little thing that is.”

Coming down the thick threaded steel cable is one of the new, advanced cable cars. It holds around 30 people, and it is one of 4 in the world which have a revolving floor. Because of this, when ascending you can see all around. Clambering into the car, we are excited and all smiles. We thought we werent going to be able to come; my sister has pinkeye and we had to pack the stuff.

The cable car is hot and humid, but we don’t really care. As it ascends, we can see a larger and better view of the city below. We can see the waterfront, the beaches, and Robben Island, the South Africa equivalent of Alcatraz. The car is slowly rotating and our view is slowly changes. We can see CAmps Bay, the beach where we were the day before. We can see the Lion’s Head, a peak nearby. AS we near the upper station, we can see the Devil’s Peak. I am exalted as We step out onto the dirt and rocks of Table Mountain.

It is a clear day, perfect for taking pictures. my camera is endlessly clicking as we walk the path. My dad shows me the different places in the city. He also pionts out where his mother’s ashes were scattered. I ame in awe, mouth hanging open, at this beautiful green rocky mountain. We walk the edge or a great forge, which from far away just looks like a nick in the side of the mountain.  as we come around the back of the walkable path, I scoop up a rock and a little bit of dirt. A small souveneir from a huge place.

Coming back down the cable car, I reminisce about my amazing experience here and the rest of my experience here in South Africa. I have a feeling of great joy for this trip, but with it comes a great sadness that it is over.

Aaaah! Sharks! Swimming all around us, the smell of blood in the water, ready to attack! Alastair, Dad, cousin Chad, cousin Kayla, and I are on a shark cage diving boat on a hot summer day in the middle of December. Grandpa, Dad’s dad, has a friend (he is friends with everyone here in Gansbaai) who owns a famous shark cage diving venue.

We are in Gansbaai, in the beautiful southern Cape on the tip of Africa, a place of deep blue water and rolling green hills, home to the one and only Great White Shark. In the waters of the bay swim these denizens of the sea, these lions of the water, who circle the boat, hoping for a scrap of fish to be thrown off. Our eyes grow wide as we watch one pull on a bloody sack of fish- it tears! The great beast is an amazing predator. The first group slowly clambers into the cage.

“Hey Dad,” I call, “shall we go in?”

“No, let’s wait till next time.”

As the first group settles into the cage, a small shark appears from underneath the cage! It glares at the divers with eyes gleaming with hate, hoping dearly for meat. The people in the cage shiver as it swims by.

Splash! everyone on the boat turns, eyes boggling as they see that another shark has raced into the area and ripped the bag of bait from the boat with its muscular jaws. There is a collective gasp from the crowd as it tears apart the fish inside. I hope that we won’t miss any action because of this.

Finally, the wait is over.

“Excited?” asks my dad.

“Who wouldn’t be?” I reply, ecstatic.

To go into the cage, we are helped by weights so that we can sink when we need to. We do not use air tanks, ridding us of the problem of training; we simply put our heads under when a shark approaches. Brr! the bay waters are freezing, quite different to the warm outside air. I can’t belive I am really here, in a cage off the coast of Africa, observing sharks in their natural habitat. This is quite different from an aquarium: there, we are comfortable and they are inclosed, here, it is vice versa.

The sharks from earlier have left; we are alone in the water. Just us and the little fishies that are the dinner of bigger fishies, and so on and on. At the top are the reeeeally big fishies: the sharks. And right on cue, one arrives.

“Down!” yells the instructor as he sees the shark.

Through the cloudy water, all you can see is the shadow, but then, suddenly, it appears! The gnarled, pointed head of the animal breaks through the underwater grime and gnashes its frightening teeth at us; we hope that the cage is safe. As this first encounter ends, we are elated and sad. Happy that it is over, sad that we won’t see this beautiful work of art again. As we get tired, our wrinkled hands slip on the bars of the cage that is holding us up. Waiting for what feels like hours, we see shadows.

“Down!”

Frightening but rejuvenating, we see another great predator, amazing hunter, graceful murderer. A new shark comes to feed on the great feast provided by us humans. Yet again, another jagged silhouette coming towards us through the cloudy water, ready to strike at any moment.

“Gasp!” I suck in a gulp of icy water into my lungs as I see the dark jagged shape pass towards us, the sharp, yellow double rows of teeth ready to snap and tear at the flesh of it’s prey. Needs unfulfilled, the beast swims away hungry.

Tired but happy, we clamber out of the steel cage that has enclosed us for twenty to thirty minutes. We shiver as the cool breeze flows over our wet suits. As Chad and I sit on top of the boat, we talk.

“Hey, that was wicked!” Chad exclaims.

“Yah. You should have come in the cage!”

“Nooooo, that’s not for me!”

“Fine then, your loss!”

I enjoyed this, but i am happy and tired when it is over.

All alone, I carefully trod my way, barefoot, down the jagged, dirty, broken crags of rocks to the deep teal pool. It has an odor like the ocean: salty but clean. In the shadows hide the small rock dragons and other creatures of the water’s edge.

I dip my feet into the frigid water and shiver as the cold travels from my toes to my arms. I slowly lower myself into the icy cold pool. I breathe deeply as the chilly sea breeze fills my lungs, I feel a little warmer inside. Funny how the cold air still can keep you toasty.

As I climb onto the rocks on the far side of the pool, I see a whale splashing far out in the bay. I bet I could swim out to it if not for sharks. Sharks! The denizens of the waters in our peaceful bay, who kill to live and live to kill. Then again, I think I’ll just stay here. I can see the khaki tan beaches and deep green hills of Gansbaai and Cape Town, all from my small rocky perch overlooking the blue rock pool. I wonder if there is someone on those rolling green hills, looking back and wondering about me.

I dive back in to the cold water; I can feel soft, smooth seaweed brushing my legs as I skim on the bottom of the deep salty pool. I come up with a handful of the fine, dark bottom sand. It is a powdery texture, like you could make a cake with it. Yum.

I clamber back onto the land side of the shore, shaking, freezing, and dripping wet. I haul my tired body onto the crags and outcroppings and feel the hot afternoon sun bake me dry. When I am warm and comfortable again, I look towards where I came. What if I fall? If a kid falls into the ocean but no one is there to hear him yell, does he make a sound?

I put that scary thought back away in my mind and forget. I still have to get back to the shore. The sheer drop makes my stomach lurch like a roller coaster, but I dive in again. As the cool water cleans the sand off my feet, I think about the adrenaline rush of this experience and etch it into the back of my thoughts forever. Should I tell Grandpa and June? Or just leave it for myself, a cherished memory for me and me alone? Or publish it to the world?

I think I’ll take the latter.

Gathering Blue, by Lois Lowry, is about a crippled girl with a gimp leg, named Kira, who is a peaceful weaver within a violent and primitive society limited to a small village. She is orphaned when her mother dies abruptly and she is chosen to recreate a beautiful, amazing coat for the village’s annual worship ceremony. Throughout the story, she discovers the hidden lies and secrets of her society and its past. For example, she finds out that her father is alive and that he was almost killed and has been sent into exile, not taken by beasts like she had always been told. She learns that her father lives in a mystical village of other “brokens” and she leaves her society to live with them. I enjoyed this story because it shows how sometimes something that you trust and believe in on the surface can actually be bad for you on the inside.