Calm down. That’s not what I mean.

In fact the most alluring thing about this story is its setting: Hawaii. Hanauma Bay in Oahu to be precise. I waited a lot of years to go to Hawaii and I came back saying what everyone else I know who has been there (including my entire immediate family, numerous times I might add) has said: You have to go. You just do. I have no clue how many years it will be before I can afford to go again, but go I will. If I won a trip to go there for 5 hours (even though it is a 5 1/2 hour flight from here each way) I would go. I think I’m making myself clear. And having no other frame of reference, any tropical paradise with sun-kissed beaches and astoundingly friendly locals will probably do (I’m looking at you, Maldives….you’re next.)

But I digress. I’m taking you on a journey, gentle readers…so in order for you to get the full effect, please to lose yourself for a moment here:

And yes, it truly does look like that. Just..wow.

I *would* take a moment here to explain that even if you discover that this trip wasn’t, in fact, the BEST idea since you’re on it with your recent-ex, who insisted that because plans were made long prior for said trip that you should just go anyway…you’re still friends, after all, and surely two grown adults can get along together for 5 days in a setting such as this!… I may even interject that no matter HOW MUCH NEW EVIDENCE you gather that this breakup was SUCH a good idea and there is soooo no going back when you get home, that it’s still totally worth it, but I don’t want to be a downer. LOOK AT THE PICTURE, gentle readers. Nothing on earth matters much in a setting like that. Not to me, anyway. 😀 Besides, as I discovered, it’s impossible to bicker whilst snorkeling! (D, if you ever read this, you know I love ya but come on…you were there) 😉

So now you have a little back story…but not *quite* enough. I used to be such a water baby…I’d swim until my limbs gave out or I was so hungry I felt like I was imploding. All that changed one summer due to a lake swim and some rogue seaweed. Short version: I got caught up in it and ended up the recipient of CPR. Not something I’d recommend. Also, anyone who touts drowning as a ‘peaceful’ way to go (and I have heard this many times)….is full of more horse puckey than a fleet of Clydesdales. If you’ve experienced it or I would imagine if you have asthma you know: NOTHING sucks more than running out of air. Not a fun anecdote, to be sure…but relevant here because (see picture below.) Not to say I don’t swim anymore, by any means, but I am a lot more comfortable in pools or shallow water. But, again, see picture above. Or below. Come ON.

I couldn’t WAIT to go exploring…but I was still terrified. I had to though. HAD TO. Just look at it. Did you look? LOOK!

So that was just about an ideal setting for me in another way, too. Water is crystal clear, no way seaweed can sneak up on me, and it’s a protected bay so not very strong currents. Huzzah! I would have dearly loved to try scuba diving (and even tried to take a class once after an experimental 10-minute dive with a friend in an equally-clear quarry) but I just can’t do it. For me, SCUBA stands for Scary-ass Creepy Unreliable Breathing Apparatus. Telling me to strap on some 55-pound gear and ‘breathe normally’ underwater is like feeding a toddler a fistful of coffee beans and telling her to be quiet. (No, I haven’t. Hush.)

In short, it ain’t happening. I watch all those underwater shows with envy, but after numerous attempts I have decided it’s safer for me to stay in shallow water. All I need is one thing to flick that trip-wire of panic in the depths. I think you get me. But I wasn’t about to miss out entirely, so I went for snorkeling. I’d love to say I took to it right away, but I’m reasonably sure you can guess what happened….if your guess includes repeated mask-filling, mild panic, and countless episodes of excessively loud spitting.

Thankfully, eventually I got the hang of it, and floated off into my own little world. And holy CRAP was it fun. Big fishees and little fishees and red fishees and yellow fishees and angel fishees (which I still get a slightly-bigger kick out of than the rest for unknown reasons,) and parrot fishees and oh wow *that* was a big fishee over there..dang…and oh look here was a big coral reef!…I think you’re getting the picture. The water was clear and warm, the tide was calm, I swam with a SEA TURTLE!..I totally could have been in a COMMERCIAL!…it was just the most perfect, wonderful afternoon. Wowee wow wow.

So…I’d say we were snorkeling for a good four hours, and I’d be lying if I said I even recalled my own name at that point…I really was IN THE MOMENT and for a hyper dork like me, that is indeed rare and wonderful. It was me and the fishees (and the sea turtle…did you forget him already?) and that was all that mattered. The sun was starting to make its way towards the farther end of the sky, and the tide was picking up. Got a bit windy, too, but you can imagine…I was in no hurry to leave that bay. How many experiences like this does a person get? Exactly.

My tummy was starting to get that imploding feeling…been years since I’ve been in the water that long. It was awesome. 🙂 But yes, reluctantly we admitted it was time to pack it in…I just wanted to check out this one little area first….there was a rock bed very close to where I was drifting and it was, well, swimming with all kinds of different fish I hadn’t seen all day. So I kicked over to have a look.

I was just drifting there, minding my own business, taking a few more pics (p.s. those disposable underwater cameras take surprisingly decent photos!) when I realized the current really had picked up quite a bit. It was requiring a lot of work just to stay in the same spot. I knew it was time to go…but I wanted to share my fishee-find with good old what’s-his-name. (Oh hush, we’re still friends) So I attempted a little turn in the water to get his attention.

That’s when it happened. Of course it did! Managed to go the ENTIRE AFTERNOON without incident, but then my genetic disposition to find ways to injure myself reared its ugly head. For a fraction of a second, but it was enough.

Here is what happened: during my little turn, I drifted a bit since the current was strong (if you’re paying attention) and my shin just TAPPED a piece of the rock. Not coral, thankfully, but it was sharp. I did not SCRAPE it. I did not CUT it. I TAPPED it. Briefly. With one shin. That’s it. It didn’t even hurt. And by the time he made his way over to me there was a little cloud of blood around me in the water.

Awhupsie.

Now obviously I’m no marine biologist, and this bay is supposedly “free from predators,” but this is *me* we’re talking about here, so I wasn’t comfortable testing that theory with a freshly-bleeding wound in the semi-open ocean, thanks. (This would be the point in the story where I lift up my leg to assess damage, gasp at the flap of skin I see..well..flapping in the ever-increasing breeze (if you’re paying attention), panic a bit, and attempt to do that he-man shuffle through chest-high water to the relative safety of the shore.)

You know it’s bad when you’re lurching up the beach (not unlike a person being bandied about by gentle waves for hours on end who is relearning how to walk), and the few remaining people scattered around are not only all focused on you, but sharing the same look of horror and mouthing “Oh my God.” Interestingly enough, the precise moment I looked down to discern what they were gawping at is the precise moment the air dried what little saltwater was left on my skin and SWEET MOTHER-OF-PEARL did it HURT. They couldn’t know that part, though…they could only guess from the small river of blood that was cascading down my leg and pooling in the sand.

How, oh how, I wondered, could this happen? And what did I ever do to that rock? Why did it feel the need to unzip my leg? It had torn what appeared to be a jagged question mark on my shin, which in fact should have POOF disappeared immediately from the irony of it all. I had no more questions. The ocean had spoken and its feeling was clear: YOU, SPECIFICALLY, DON’T BELONG HERE.

All in all, though, I have to say, I got off relatively unscathed…for me. At least it wasn’t food poisoning. I just have a small, jagged question-mark-shaped reminder of one of the best days of my life. (What, you think I was going to sit in the ER for hours in PARADISE? Not this fishstick. I was on VACATION!) Instead I got fussed over by some locals, who doctored my question mark as best they could, after giving me a ride off the beach in a kick-ass canopied golf cart like some freakin celebrity! Why that rock turned me into a rock STAR! So really I have no complaints. The ocean may have unzipped me, but I..well..

….I healed nicely in time and it didn’t, like, get infected or anything. So HA!

In your FACE, Pacific Ocean!

BITE me!

Oh wait…you did.

I still love you, Hanuama Bay. I always will. I’ll even be back, if I’m lucky. One little scar-for-life isn’t going to stop me. 😉 And I will always be grateful to D for that amazing, wonderful trip. (Even if we did squawk more than the parrots) 😉

p.s. to the lovely hotel we stayed at….really, really sorry about the towels 😛

Please feel free to add your own travel travesties. If only so I’m not the only one 😉

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 2nd, 2009 at 11:41 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.