As the ride went on, Marina found it easier to stay in her seat as the wetsuit dried from the sun and wind. She relaxed her death grip and almost immediately it seemed she had made the right call, as a crawling sensation itched up the palms and backs of her hands. Must have cut off the circulation, she thought, until she took her eyes off the looming shore to check it out. She didn't see any white knuckles...but that was because she couldn't see her knuckles. Her wetsuit's sleeves were growing over her hands. In a few more seconds they had covered them completely, all the way to her fingertips. Now the only skin that was showing was on her upper neck and head, and she feared that might not last.
The boat neared the dock she had left from. As she reduced speed, Marina realized she wouldn't be able to tie the boat up in her condition. She doubted she'd be able to flop straight from the boat onto the dock. It was a good foot higher than her boat, and in the time it took her to hoist herself up onto the planks, the boat could drift away. There was a good chance she'd fall and injure herself, and she was already in a risky situation as it was.
There wasn't anyone in sight to help her, either. Part of her was happy she didn't yet have to explain this to anyone, but some help would have been appreciated all the same. She had chosen a rarely used shoreline for a reason. Fewer divers to get in her way, leaving her alone with the ocean. The way she preferred it. Except at the moment, apparently.
Swimming seemed to be her only option. She cut the motor and let the boat's momentum carry her closer. When she was about thirty feet from the dock, Marina carefully slid off the chair and crawled to the side of the boat. She grabbed the rope and coiled it loosely around her arm in case it slipped out of her wetsuit-clad hand. She pushed herself up until her butt was seated on the edge, then pinched her nose and dropped backward into the water.
Despite her age, Marina was a talented scuba diver, but she'd never had such a smooth plunge into the water. At first it seemed obvious: no tank on her back, no mask on her face. But that didn't explain the cool shiver that ran up her spine that made her feel just like she did every time she stepped back inside her parents' house after several months at college. She felt an instinctive urge to dive down deep. But that wasn't going to happen here. She was so close to shore she could see the bottom.
The shore! Right! She pumped her arms and surfaced. She wiped the water and hair from her eyes to locate the dock. She checked her hand to see she had managed to hold onto the rope. So far, so good. She started treading toward the shore, but once the rope went taut, she was snapped back. She pulled the rope, kicking her tailfin hard, but she didn't feel like she was making any progress. The boat was too heavy and the current was fighting her.
She needed to swim with both her arms and her legs...tail...whatever. It took a few minutes, but she was able to wrap the rope around her torso in a faux harness. This time she took off with a tall sweep of her fin that splashed the water quite majestically, which she sadly failed to notice as she was facing the dock. She put all her training with the monofin to use as she found the most effective swimming motion. With her arms and tail all making a coordinated effort, Marina could see it was working, if only a little. The dock got closer, foot by foot, but the effort was taxing, and the closer she got, the slower she seemed to go.
Just as she was on the verge of giving up, one particular thrust of her arms suddenly pushed her a little farther along than any before. The next thrust was even more improved. She could feel herself surging through the water. Still slow, but not AS slow, and that was enough to rekindle her fighting spirit and take her the rest of the way. Ten feet...five... She reached for the old wooden ladder leading from the platform into the water, and with one final kick of her tail, she made it. Refocusing on her upper body strength, Marina climbed the ladder using only her arms and collapsed once safely at the top. She rolled onto her back and panted heavily, clutching the rope like a precious gem.
After a minute, she hefted herself up and started crawling to the nearest moor. Ouch! The old wooden boards scraped her suit badly. The pain was so sharp it felt like it had torn the material right off. She stopped and rolled onto her back again. She looked herself over. Strangely, the side that she had been crawling on didn't show any signs of wear at all. She realized now that she could feel her butt and tail touching the dock as if she had nothing between her skin and the wood at all. Was the suit her new skin?
One thing at a time. She had to focus. Much more carefully this time, she inched along the dock, bracing herself with one arm and lifting her butt up to slide forward. It still smarted, but at least the lesser scraping didn't burn so much. When she finally made it to the hook drilled into one of the dock's pillars, she set about untangling the rope from her arm.
And that's when she made another realization. A thin webbing had grown between her fingers. The membrane was an extension of the suit, but a thinner version of the same material and lighter in color. She stretched her fingers to their widest and found the webbing hardly put up any resistance, stretching taut almost like a fin. When had this appeared? If it happened while she was swimming, that could explain why the boat had suddenly become easier to pull. For a second, she worried she wouldn't be able to tie the rope well enough with the webbing in the way, but to her relief, she was able to manage a secure knot with only a little trouble.
Finally, with that done, she laid back on the dock, exhausted. If she only had her legs back, none of this would have been necessary. And what had she gained, really? Even if she crawled to her car, she couldn't drive it. She had to contact someone. But who? She tried to think of who she trusted who could get there in short time and who wouldn't flip out or tease her for getting stuck in this bizarre suit. Most of her friends were off on vacations, anyway. Would she have to call her parents?
She winced. The hot sun blazing into her eyes didn't make it easy to concentrate. She could hear the gentle waves caressing the shore. The water was cool. It was easier to move around in. Maybe it would be easier to decide in the water, too.