I had always loved the water. Ever since I had been a young child, I had been a avid swimmer. I had never been good enough to swim in competition, but there had rarely been a day when I had not been in the water, whether it be in the ocean or in the local community swimming pool. The moment I had been able to afford it, I had bought a quiet, beachfront property almost as far away from any cities as I could manage. From my bedroom window I could look out over the ocean on the other side of a beach so empty it may as well have been my own.

Barely a day went by when I didn’t go for a swim or surf. The climate was tropical, which kept the water warm almost all year around. It was just perfect for my needs, but there were times when I wondered if I was really enjoying it all as much as I should. I rarely had company, but I was never alone. I was frequently in the water, and I never felt like I missed the dry land. But there was something more, calling me out in the watery depths. Whatever it was, I never felt like I was going to find it. It remained wild and elusive, out beyond the reefs which protected the beach from the worst of the occasional rough weather and strong ocean currents. I never swam out beyond them, knowing I would not be strong enough to swim back to shore should I be caught up in the powerful currents.

A wooden jetty ran about a hundred metres out into the water, which remained shallow thanks to the reefs a little further out. When I wasn’t swimming, I often sat on the end of the jetty with my feet dangling over the edge, occasionally splashing against the surface of the water. As normal, there wasn’t a single other person in sight. The beach and the ocean were mine and mine alone.

As my feet splashed through the water, I felt a little stab of pain through my heel. It passed in just a moment, and it quickly slipped from my mind. I turned my focus onto the horizon, where the sun was still rising. It shone off the pristine water, which gleamed gold in the early sunlight.

I started to feel the need for breakfast, so with reluctance I rose to my feet so I could make my way back to my cabin on the beachfront. I made it just a couple of steps before a sudden weakness took over my legs. I stumbled forward, before I toppled over sideways and fell off the jetty. I curled into a ball as I stuck the surface of the water and plummeted deep down until I struck the bottom, a few metres below the surface.

My legs still refused to work, and I twisted around as I tried to return to the surface. Caught unawares by the fall, I hadn’t had the chance to take a breath before falling underwater, and the rippling surface looked so far away as I reached out with my arms. My lungs began to burn as my arms appeared to ripple in the water, and instinctively my mouth opened in a futile attempt to draw in air. I only got a lungful of water. I began to choke and cough as a slight burn seared into either side of my neck.

I coughed again, and somehow my throat seemed to clear. The agony in my lungs diminished, and it took me a couple of seconds to realise that I was not drowning. My hands moved through the water to gently touch at my neck. Several slits had formed. I knew what they had to be, though it didn’t make any sense. I had gills. Elation surged through me. I could breathe underwater. I didn’t know how it had happened, but it wasn’t the end of it either.

Through the crystal clear water, I could see my hands rippling and changing. The salt water no longer burned at my eyes, leaving my vision clear and unhindered. It wasn’t just the distortion in the water. There was a strange heat in my hands that was flowing up to my elbows. I tensed and wriggled my fingers, feeling a strange pull that resisted me spreading them too wide. A thin film of skin stretched between them, coming almost all the way up to my knuckles. Webbing. I tested them by swishing my arms through the water. I could feel the resistance the webbing created, allowing me to push myself through the water at much greater speed.

My focus on my hands quickly ended as a fierce discomfort spread through my legs. A sudden instinct forced me to strip down, my sodden clothes falling heavily to the golden sand. My legs clenched together, set rigid in place as they began to fuse. I drifted down to sit on the seabed as my feet merged completely. My skin seemed fluid as my legs quickly followed suit. I knew I should be alarmed, but I could only watch on in curiosity.

Little bright specks began to form on my altered flesh. Small scales were beginning to emerge in a myriad of different colours, favouring deep blue hues. They gleamed in the light like a rainbow. My webbed hands slowly stroked over them as I could feel the internal structure changing. Forming from what had once been the sole of my feet were long, slender fins. I was growing a tail, but apart from my hands, my upper body seemed to be largely unchanged.

One word came to the top of my thoughts. Merman. I would have laughed, but all that came from my mouth was a stream of bubbles. With a flick of my tail, I began to swim out into deeper water, towards the reef that protected my little beach. Using my tail and webbed hands, I was quickly able to get to an incredible speed, far faster than I had ever been able to manage before. It was exhilarating, and behind me I lifted up a thin dust of wet sand forced up from the seabed in my wake. I moved like a torpedo through the water, my tail feeling so natural already, like I had been born to have a tail instead of legs.

My vision seemed much clearer than normal, allowing me to see even further through the water than I had been able to achieve in the air. I could see the bright colours of the reef ahead, with resplendent blues and reds and yellows providing a beautiful backdrop to the seabed. Not only was the reef itself alive with colour, but there were thousands of fish and other aquatic creatures that scattered away as I approached.

I revelled in the newfound agility and flexibility I had in the water. My tail flicked out almost with a mind of its own as I looped around the clear water above the reef. Once they got over the initial shock of my presence, some of the fish started to emerge from their hiding spots again. They knew I wasn’t a predator, and it wasn’t long before they completely ignored me.

I had explored these reefs so many times before, though with the necessary scuba gear, my vision curtailed by the protective mask. Without any of that heavy equipment to weigh me down, it was like a whole new experience. I felt so light as I darted around, enjoying the feeling of the warm water on my naked body. Sunlight dappled down through the water, creating brilliant beams of light that danced off the tiny particles that drifted through the reef. I had never really seen them before, having to look through the dirty glass of my mask. Now I could see it all perfectly clearly.

With a flick of my tail I was able to skim away through the water again. I didn’t even think of going up to the surface, for what would be up there for me? I had so much beauty down here to admire. My powerful tail and webbed hands kept me safe from the currents that occasionally buffeted my body. I looped and spun through the water.

My arms were outstretched as I ‘stood’ upright, my tail angling down with my fins just brushing against the sandy bottom. My head arched back and I let the salty water fill my mouth. I didn’t choke or cough, and it felt perfectly natural as I breathed through the gills in the sides of my neck. This was where I was meant to be, and my body felt perfectly natural for it. I silently laughed, a stream of bubbles escaping my mouth as I slowly spun around on the spot.

A small yellow fish darted past me. I reached out with one hand to gently touch it as it swum by. It briefly bumped against my webbed fingers before it hurried away. I laughed again and followed after it.

I soon came across the northern edge of the reef. To my left was the reef with its many colours and shallow, clear water. To my right was a great ocean shelf that marked the end of the shallows. The seabed plunged down deep into black waters, too deep for me to see the bottom. A brief flutter of fear went through my heart as I looked down, but that was just one of the last lingering worries of my old human self. I no longer had any concerns for that depth, for I was designed to swim now.

I carefully perched on the edge of the underwater cliff, sitting as I would a human. My tail drifted languidly out over the deep depths, and my hands gently traced over my new scales. It felt beautiful and perfect, like it had always meant to be that way. I tried moving my toes, but all that action did was swish my new fins. I leaned back and smiled, moving my hands behind my head as I lay down and looked up through the water.

Light danced all around me, rippling through the water as the currents moved. A few fish swum by, snapping at the little particles in the water. Above me, some jellyfish drifted by, their tentacles waving lazily beneath their near-transparent bodies. The sunlight sparkled off their bodies, and I could have spent hours just watching them, but eventually the small colony had drifted away to a new part of the reef.

With a flick of my tail, I rose back up off the seabed and emerged back into the gentle currents over the reef. A couple of fish were startled by my appearance and quickly swum away, but most appeared to be comfortable with my presence. I began exploring again, with a particular destination in mind this time. I had always heard rumour of a shipwreck not far from the reef, but I had never been able to find it with my reliance on scuba gear and my small boat before. I knew the wreck was meant to be at the southern end of the reef, and it didn’t take me long to get my bearings.

I took my time as I made my way south. I stopped several times just to gaze in wonder at the reef, admiring the incredible colours as they stretched out as far as I could see, going back towards the coast. Some of the time I allowed myself to just drift on the current, my body relaxing and letting the water carry me on.

Above my head, waves crashed down over the surface of the reef. They came down to me as a gentle but constant roar, churning up the water and filling it with bubbles and tiny pieces of rock and sand. I was able to swim through it easily enough, though I could feel my new fins fluttering in the disturbed water. This was the area of the reef I had never been able to navigate before. Spires of coral rose up from the sea floor, creating an uneven surface that created the rough seas above. Life down here seemed not to pay attention to the turmoil above. There were more fish here than ever before, darting amongst the coral and the anchored anemones. It was a truly beautiful display of motion and colour. I had a brief moment of alarm when I caught the distinctive shadow of a shark lurking ahead, but it turned and swum away before it got too close. Even so, I darted down to the reef and scooped up a sharp rock to carry in my hand, just in case.

I had no reason to worry, as I saw no further sharks. Instead I rose over a crest in the reef to find what I had been seeking. Draped out across the rock by the deep shelf was the remains of a small boat. It looked like one of the luxury yachts a rich billionaire might have several of. The large gash in the prow made it clear what had sunk the boat.

I cautiously approached the wreck. Coral had started to claim the human detritus for itself, becoming just another anchor point for the reef to consume. A few pieces of debris still littered around the boat. An anchor was half buried in the sand next to a badly damaged esky. The food that may have once been inside it had long been picked clean, though there was a single beer bottle left inside. The jagged rock I had picked up fell down to bounce softly in the wet sand beside the esky.

A few scratches and scrapes blemished the deck of the small boat, but otherwise it seemed in good condition. The doors to the small wheelhouse were open and partially hanging from their hinges. All the electronic equipment inside was long since dead, but the magnetic compass appeared to still work. I tapped my fingers on the glass encasing for it. The needle bounced around a few times, but always returned to point in the same direction.

I delved down below deck. I put my hand on the railings down the staircase through habit more than anything. I floated down gently, with no feet to touch the ground anymore, but those habits were hard to break, especially on a boat that would normally be rocking gently on the surface of the water.

Below deck was mostly clear of anything that would have belonged to the former owners of the wrecked boat. It appeared they had chance to evacuate before their vessel went under. There was cutlery and plates still in the cupboards of the little kitchenette, and a rusted metal pot was on the oven. I pulled open the fridge door but found that empty.

Away from the clear light filtering down from the surface, everything took on a slightly eerie, green tinge. Though the boat had clearly only been under for a few months at most, it felt like I was exploring some ancient wreck. Even the water felt cold, and goosebumps dimpled the skin on my shoulders and arms. I rubbed my hands over them as I slowly swum down towards the prow. The jagged hole of twisted metal and fibreglass punctured all the way through into what had been the resting area of the yacht. It cut right through what had once been one of two beds. The second one opposite was still intact, and even still had the bedsheets fitted.

Though the water was a little cold and not quite bright enough, I knew those were things I would probably be able to change. This little boat wrecked on the reef would be a good place to call home for my new life. I lay back on the intact bed and lifted up my tail, spreading the wide fin at the end. I smiled. It wasn’t like I would be able to function on land anymore. I didn’t even know if I could still breathe outside the water, and I felt no urgency to try it. Why would I want to go back up there, when down here was so beautiful.

I lay back, my hands behind my head. Above me were a couple of wide windows that would have provided the occupants the perfect view of the sky as they sailed along the open waters. Now it gave me an amazing view of a field of jellyfish as they drifted by on the currents. Light shone through their translucent bodies, dappling shadows on the glass and my face.

I couldn’t decide if it felt like I was in a dream, or whether my life above the waves had been the dream and I was just now waking up. I tried to recall what it was like to feel sand beneath my toes as I walked on the beach, but that didn’t feel right to my fins. That was the dream, I decided. And this was my life. Perhaps I would go up to the beach at high tide and see if it was possible to retrieve some of my possessions that would survive down here, like the carvings I had made from shell and rock, but otherwise my old life held no interest to me. This would be my home now, with the great ocean my backyard to explore.

A smile stayed on my face as I looked up at the moving forest of jellyfish overhead. It was so relaxing to just look and watch them, but a strange tapping caught my attention. I lifted my head and glanced down towards the hole in the side of the boat. At first I couldn’t see anything, but then I saw movement.

I sat up, my tail draped across the floor beneath the bed, before I cautiously approached the hole, taking care not to snag my arms or tail on any sharp piece of fibreglass. To my surprise, a face popped up in the gap. We both recoiled back in surprise, before the stranger returned. It was a male face that appeared human with sandy blonde hair waving in the water above him, but there was no scuba or snorkel mask on his face. He grinned and showed off a row of teeth that didn’t look entirely human. They were a little too sharp and serrated. Then I noticed the gills on his neck. My eyes drifted down to see he had a tail like mine, only his was crimson red while mine was iridescent blue.

He held his hand out to me, beckoning for me to go with him.

Without hesitation I took it.