Photographer James D. Watt's ashes, being released into blue Pacific Ocean off Big Island of Hawaii on March 10th, 2008.

The day we lay Jim Watt to rest those closest to him with tears still streaming down their faces vowed to fulfill his last wish, to have his ashes scattered in the heart of his beloved humpback whale grounds along the Kona coast of Hawaii. On as fine a March morning as could be remembered, some seven months later, ten of us gathered at the Honokohau harbor and launched two boats. Jim would have been fired up at the prospects of finding whales this windless, and cloudless morning. We fairly skipped our way northwest for about forty minutes to the center of the whale grounds cryptically named “Moon Base”. Then, not sure of exactly where to begin, we stopped near two whales that were resting on the surface. It felt as good as any place, but there was no sign, no indication that this was the proper place. No one said anything but there was indecision in the air. We drifted around, one boat took off, and we followed, neither knowing where to stop. Two more whales appeared, these were a bit more lively, in a state of playfulness, possibly something Jim might have latched onto. Our movements felt fluid and there was a sense about us that a rightness had to occur, but what would that be? How would it manifest? There was no previous experience to lean on, nothing to direct us. We motored slowly with the whales for ten or fifteen minutes then suddenly we just stopped and silently agreed that this was the place.

We entered the cobalt water that was as clear as a child’s eye and formed a circle. Without words or ceremony we released his ashes into the water.

In that moment everything seemed to shift.

To witness Jim’s ashes mushrooming into the sea was to once again be in the water with him, knowing it was for the last time.

Time stopped for us all. The experience was utterly profound, and I began to cry inside my mask as I watched his ashes expand ever outward into the sea. It was as if all that was his form, was suddenly in the process of molecular disintegration. Something that eventually will occur to us all over time was happening right before our eyes. In those moments someone made a free dive into Jim’s midst and disappeared into his vaporized form. And then one by one we all made our dives, gliding through him and in a way he into us, and in those vivid and surreal moments we came together as he would wish it one last time. It was as powerful an experience as I’ve had in my lifetime, befitting the legacy of water knowledge that was Jim’s gift to all who were present.

As we returned to our respective boats amid hugs and tears a pod of spotted dolphins appeared and swam through the flowers that had been scattered to mark his time and place on the planet.

Carlos Eyles.