I was SCUBA diving along the base of some cliffs far below historic Manzamo Park in the crystal waters of Okinawa, Japan. An hour into our shallow dive, my buddy Paul and I spotted a partially submerged cave, which I insisted that we explore. We meandered our way along the vibrant living coral to the entrance of the cavern. The opening measured about 40’ high with only 15’ showing above the surface of the water into the jagged volcanic cliffs. As we swam into the cave, the water became brackish from the mixture of the fresh water dripping down from the huge stalactites above, into the salty East China Sea. Once in the cave, small dive light in hand, I weaved between great stalagmites, swimming in and out of their eerie dark shadows until I surfaced about 50’ in. What I saw was breathtaking. I was in a cathedral-sized chamber with beautiful blue reflected sunlight dancing along the cave’s rough walls and smooth stalactites. The blinding brightness of the cavern’s entrance contrasted harshly with the pitch black void that watched us from the other end of the cave.
A small ledge no wider than a sidewalk, but in some places narrower than a board started from about 20 feet from the entrance and ran along the cave wall into the darkness. Since the ledge was about 6’ above the waves, Paul and I had serious difficulty climbing (with HEAVY dive gear) to a wide section of a rock shelf. We left our gear and crept along the ledge toward the blackness that waited ahead. We noticed small finger caves peppered throughout the cavern’s walls, but we kept to the ledge. In places we had to climb the damp stone to keep moving further to the unseen rear of the cave. A few hundred yards in, we noted large alcoves off to the side, which had faded Japanese Hiragana and Kanji written on the walls- Paul and I can’t read Japanese. As the entrance faded into a small, bright mouse hole, we finally spotted the end of the cavern. It was rough, like the rest of the cave, with the odd exception of a smooth rectangle section, about the size of a standard door. The ‘door’ was clearly just as solid and seamless as the rest of the cave, but about belly-height, we noticed an anomaly that made our hair stand on end. Etched into the smooth stone wall were three names, American names (we think); George, Catherine and Chelsea. How did they get here? Who were these people? What’s up with the smoothed rectangle- it was obviously done by man, right?
Thoroughly shaken, we left the cave with a since of unexplained urgency.
This was a defining moment in our lives, years later Paul and I still spoke of the “George/Catherine/Chelsea” door on a weekly basis. It was a great, unsolved mystery in our lives that cemented a friendship for over three decades.
Paul died from a skydiving mishap in 2003, on the day before we were scheduled to fly to Okinawa and document the cave for a friend of ours that was a professor at Rice University. Always the enigma, Paul had told me that he would take that mystery to his grave unless we solved it.
True to his word, under his epitaph, in small letters was a secret nod to me. It read Geo/Ca/Che. So I did.