Ok fine. I will reveal my breakdown at sea. There are just a few things you should know about me before I get started.
a. I hate feeling trapped.
b. I do not care for going off shore.
c. I have a fear of being sea sick (although it hasn’t ever happened… knock on wood).
d. I can get scared in an instant.
Yep. There’s me allllll laid out. Now you know my secrets. So when Bf and his father, Jack mentioned taking me and Jack’s girlfriend Terry to go off shore to go snorkeling I was apprehensive. It didn’t seem that rough in the channel… so maybe it was going to be ok. I have a rule of only going out to sea in seas that are 1 to 2 feet, but it looked ok. Besides… this was FLORIDA. How rough could it be?
Well, I was about to find out. We headed out on the boat with our snorkel stuff. We kept driving and driving and driving and driving and driving (“Where the hell are we going?!” I asked myself). I was starting to get nervous. We continued to drive on and on when up ahead I spotted a tower floating in the middle of nowhere. (“There it is!” Bf yelled).
From the second the boat stopped, I knew that I was not going to like this. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I wanted off. (See “fear a”). I couldn’t get off. It was too far to swim. I began to panic a little.
Once the boat was anchored the motion of the ocean was more than uncomfortable. I looked around and realized that we were officially in the middle of nowhere. There was no tour group. It was us and the ocean. I wanted off. (See “fear b”). I couldn’t get off. It was too far to swim. I began to panic more.
The rocking grew more and more intense so much that I we were being knocked into the sides and the center console of the boat. I apparently was the only one who noticed. I wanted off (see “fear c”). I HAD to get off. I would try to swim back to shore when no one was looking.
Bf yelled “Put your wet suit on!” and I wanted to punch him in the face. But, he reminded me that getting in was better than being on a rocking boat for an hour. I leapt in. I immediately began thinking about the conversation that we all had at breakfast about the movie Open Water. I began looking around for sharks (see “fear d”).
My mask may have filled with tears a few times and I think by the end of it I was just upset because I was upset. It was a nice reminder that I do not like rocking boats.
Once the snorkeling was complete, I was happy that it was over. I had lived… shark bite free and sea sick free. Phew. Then I heard the words that I will never forget “Lets go over to that shelf over there. It just a few more miles and we can dive for an hour.” What? Panic began to set back in. What do you mean? Its not over!? Oh, no. The fun wasn’t near over.
So off we went to the shelf where Bf and his father were going to dive for lobster. Great. These two have the greatest sense of adventure of any one I have ever met. You maaaay even call it, uh hmm, … reckless. Here Terry and I are stuck miles from land with these two reckless adventurers.
Once they went through the laborious process of gearing up, they were ready to find some lobsters. I was a little apprehensive.
Upsee daysee… in Jack goes.
I was fine now. I was calm. The rocking wasn’t as bad. Maybe I was just used to it. Maybe I had used up all of my fears and tears for one day. Bf was very kind and made sure that I would be ok while he was gone. Just look at his face! So kind.
Ok, maybe he was a little frustrated with me. Granted, I was being a tad of a handful. But, I was ok now. Freakout over.
Bf braced himself for impact…
…and upsee daysee… he’s in too.
Bye guys! Bring us back some lobster! (“Yeah right” Terry and I giggled to ourselves).
Terry and I spend the next 30 minutes or so rocking to death on the boat, trying to laugh as the waves increase in intensity… even though it wasn’t that funny. Then in the distance we hear “HEEEEEEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BRING THE BOOOOOAT!!!!!!!!!!!!” Immediately Terry and I burst into high gear. We have no idea what the trauma must be, but from the way they screamed, it must be something major. My heart is pounding and for the first time that day I actually think that I am going to throw up. Terry (thinking Jack has had a heart attack) and I (thinking John has been bitten by a shark) rush to get the boat ready to meet our seemingly injured men. I yank the anchor from the depths of the sea like I am competing in a lumberjack competition. I am using my legs (not my back) as I rhythmically work the anchor up to the boat and tie the rope quickly to the cleat. I am screaming orders at Terry like: “Forward! Neutral! Reverse reverse reverse!” and we are on our way hearts pounding to the area where I am sure to see a pool of blood.
As we approach, John goes under. To Jack we are yelling “Are you alright?!?! What’s wrong!?!?!”. It was John. I knew it. He’s gone under. He’s Jack. I am Rose. My heart will go on.
Once we finally get within hearing distance, big-eyed Terry and I search Jack’s face for a shred of information. He respond with “Man, am I tired. I want to conserve my energy.” Meanwhile, a few feet away, John resurfaces without a scratch on him carrying an empty lobster net.
Yep. That is not how I enjoy an afternoon. But this is:
Yep, there is nothing better than a beach chair, a pool, and a brand new US Weekly. Ah… bliss.
We did do a little more in shore fishing, which suited me just fine.
We even bumped into the manatee again at Smuggler’s Cove. It was this time I realized that they kind of look like water-pigs.
That was a lot of words. Thank you if you read it all. Thank you if you just read a part. It was part of the trip that I will never forget… down to what bathing suit I was wearing and how crappy my hair looked (but I didn’t care because I was so scared).
Once we were back in Atlanta. I got a text from Bf…
him: At least I am not afraid of swimming.
him: round of applause
Jerk. But it was a little funny. And I am not afraid of swimming.
Tomorrow, I will feed a tarpon. Seriously.