From the edge of the cliff we are there, silently scanning the sea, smelling it, taking its pulse. All senses on alert, we try to assess its mood of the day, attentive to the slightest signals of danger brewing beneath its apparent calm. A long but powerful swell lifts it at intervals like the breathing of an enormous beast sleeping and about to wake up. Deep inside me, a feeling of unease begins to spread insidiously like an alarm signal sent from my deep instinct which tries to find its way to my reason. But this one is deaf: today is our only chance to get into the water, despite the bad conditions, the decision has already been made since long ago actually. So, with all our gear on our backs, we carefully descend the cliff via the small steep path. As we approach the sea, its presence becomes more intense, the air cools and the waves which thump below, seem to increase in force as if, detecting our presence, the sea was on alert, like a citadel activating its defences to dissuade us from entering and trying to steal the treasures it hides within. Because now that the decision has been made, only one question remains in our minds: will they be there this year again?

Bundled into our thick wetsuits, we look like cosmonauts moving awkwardly through the loose sand. We are no longer adapted to land and it is becoming urgent to reach the sea to escape the oppressive gravity. Through the foggy glass of my mask, I can see the silhouette of my dad and my two cousins in front of me, already waist-deep in water, trying to pass the barrier of the waves breaking in front of the beach. Calculate the right moment and get started, a few energetic strokes of the fins and you are on the other side. Once in the middle of the sea, I feel like a cork, tossed around by the waves, the coast however not far away disappears intermittently behind the crest of the waves which seem to dance all around me, I can't balance myself, I don't see anyone anymore.

Empty yourself, regain control over your interior space to push back to the border the elements that are unleashed outside. I breathe in, I breathe out. I stop struggling and let myself float, inhaling and exhaling again. My heart rate calms, I tune into the ocean, I let the clicking sound fill my head. The body temperature balances itself and the biting cold of the water now gives way to a feeling of well-being. That's it, I have become a sea creature again ready to become one with my element. I take a deep breath and I dive towards the depths, blind through the layer of water made opaque by the storm of the last few days, it gets darker and darker as I sink towards the bottom. Finally, after a seemingly endless descent, in the last meter, as if emerging from a cloud, the world below then appears, bathed in a greenish gloominess. It is a rocky and chaotic surface, a maze of cracks, pikes and protruding ridges, on the surface of which cling scattered masses of algae with long viscous and bumpy fronds which undulate lazily in the surf. Slowly I glide over this disrupted landscape, like a buzzard in search of its prey. And then finally I see them, clad in their armor, they wait peacefully, clinging to the rocks. This year again, the spider crabs are there.

There's no time to waste, I grab them by hand and put them in the net hanging on my belt. They are as big as basketballs. They can't pinch me but the sharp thorns of their powerful legs penetrate the neoprene of my gloves. After about ten dives, my net is full and begins to drag me down, it is time to go back.

On the beach, I find my cousins and dad. Our family members came to wait for us like every year. We take out on the sand before their impatient eyes our loot brought from the bottom of the sea. In daylight we can now admire them, their sparkling red carapaces, bristling with quills, perfect war machines with long articulated legs, sublime in their monstrosity, like alien creatures which every year, in spring, since thousands of years, undertake this great journey to us. This mysterious pilgrimage which has ended up punctuating the life of our family, like a ritual which is transmitted from generation to generation, and which every year, allows us to meet again and realign ourselves to the deep rhythm of the world.