A Snorkeling Adventure to Remember

(or Not)

I like snorkeling, even though once I had a bad experience. I was with my husband, Steve, and we were on our honeymoon. We were in Hawaii, and yes, we saw beautiful fish. But Steve took pictures with an underwater camera, and when we got them developed, I was shocked. He’d snapped some close-ups of an icky-looking creature I hadn’t even seen. “I hope that disgusting thing didn’t get too close to me,” I said.

“Actually, that thing was you.”

It was hard to tell. The mask pinched my face into an odd shape, the snorkel pushed my lips out as if they’d been stung by a large bee, and the fins made my feet look like Bozo the Clown’s.

“In that case,” I told him, “snorkel gear is a huge fashion don’t.”

Now I’m older and a lot less vain. Okay, I’m older. So when I went to Maui for a writers’ conference, I was willing to give it another go. I signed up for a guided kayaking and snorkeling adventure, hoping to spot some of the giant sea turtles rumored to be nearby.

At 8:00 a.m. I showed up and met my guide, Bobby. He handed me my snorkel gear. I hopped into my kayak near the shore, and he gave me a shove. I’d never been in a kayak, but soon I was gliding along, hair flying in the breeze, paddles dipping rhythmically into the ocean. I felt like a natural, and couldn’t help wondering if Bobby noticed.

“First time in a kayak?” he asked.

Guess not.

After awhile he slowed down and squinted into the water. “This is it,” he said. “Put your stuff on and jump in.”

I fiddled with my fins, mask and snorkel, then pushed myself over the side. I felt a cool slap against my skin. Salt water filled my ears. And suddenly I was face-to-face with a huge, prehistoric-looking sea turtle.

It was scary. For the turtle, I mean. For me, it was magical. But after seeing those pictures, I didn’t want the poor turtle to be alarmed. I stayed my distance. His eyes darted toward me; he looked puzzled by my strange appearance. Then he seemed to adjust, and I was thrilled when he let me swim along side him.

I looked around; there were more sea turtles, at home in the crystal blue water. They glanced my way, probably wondering why I’d strapped on a bunch of goofy-looking equipment just to check them out. For me, the view was breathtaking. But as the turtles watched my odd form hovering above, something told me the appeal wasn't mutual.

I was disappointed when Bobby signaled that we were finished. I swam over to my kayak and held on, and for the first time wondered how the heck I was going to get back in. It hadn’t been a problem when I was in knee-deep water. Now I was in way over my head (in more ways than one).

“It’s easy,” Bobby told me, when I asked what to do. “First, grab the side of the kayak. Then kick your legs until you’re mostly out of the water, flip your body around 180 degrees, and when your backside is facing the kayak, boost yourself over the side and sit down.”

What? Did he say easy? Everything after “grab the side of the kayak” sounded like an Olympic event.

Somehow I did it. I’m sure I looked like a complete klutz, and when I landed, it sounded something like the shot heard ‘round the world.

Whatever the trouble, it was worth it. Because the snorkeling experience was truly unforgettable.

Though I wouldn't blame the turtles for trying.