Ode to the Breathing Apparatus

Sam and I stayed at this amazing resort in St. Lucia on our honeymoon called Ti Kaye Village. We loved the feel of a smaller resort (people there know your name and say nice to see you, sam and lindsey. what can I get you to drink, sam and lindsey, though not necessarily both of us at once all the time, that would be creepy). We got a package that included several excursions around the island, and we picked scuba diving as one to try. Granted neither one of us had been scuba diving, but this was an intro course that included an actual 30 foot dive on our resort's gorgeous reef.

And it sounded like an adventure! full of potential intrigue! danger! giant man-eating sea monsters! (or some nice coral at the very least.) The morning of the dive we signed some papers promising to do and not to do some important stuff, and then we got to watch a very informative video on scuba diving that included my favorite, underwater hand signals.

Then we put on wetsuits and fifty pound oxygen tanks, grabbed our flippers, and headed to the open water. Our group was me, Sam, Jem (Truly Outrageous!) the wonder instructor, and a 12 year old girl who was a certified diver. First we had to get in the water, and with fifty pounds of oxygen on your back this is a feat in and of itself. Jem warned us that the "last couple of steps" down were extra slippery since they were underwater. Not wanting anything to befall me before even getting started I carefully walked down, holding on tightly to both rails. Unfortunately, the stars were not aligned in the non-injury department and when I hit the first step underwater, I lost my footing and fell the rest of the way down into the ocean. I blame genetics that tend toward clammy extremities. I looked up and Sam had this look of supreme horror on his face. Jem the wonder instructor was mortified as well, and although my wounds upon later inspection would include a bruise from my ankle to my knee, a gash on my arm that still has a scar, and mangled toes, my embarrassment outweighed the pain and I refused to admit defeat. "I'm fine" I insisted. Now Jem the wonder instructor was convinced I was the goofus of the group and was keeping her scuba eye on me, and I was going to have do extra hand signals to prove my scubadiverness to her.

You have to show instructors you can expell water from your breathing apparatus thingy and clear your mask of water before they'll let you do an actual dive so, the 12 year old and Sam go underwater and are waiting on me to join them, but every time I start to go under my mask fills with water. I can feel the 12 year old's impatient eyes on me. Finally Jem wiggles over, probably thinking, this girl is a train wreck in the water. "I'm doing everything you say and my mask fills with water as soon as I try to go under." I demonstrated. She smiled a little and said, "You're smiling too much. It's creating a crease in your mask thats allowing water to rush in. Don't smile." After several attempts I got the serious scuba face down and joined the group. The test went off without a hitch and Jem gave us all underwater hand signal handshakes, which are the best! Now we were ready for the real deal!

After I got over the initial panic of breathing into a mask thirty feet down (my body didn't think I should be doing that and at first it seemed to be boycotting the idea)--it was really neat down there! I was so glad I had made it that I swam like Ariel. Flippin your fins you don't get too far...Apparently I was a little too much like Ariel because when Jem the wonder instructor turned around she made a "stop" underwater hand signal, pointed directly at me, and hand signaled me not to swim with my arms (use your imagination). Don't swim with your arms, ok, I thought, but apparently my body didn't listen cause 5 minutes later she turned around and scolded me again. What's the big deal! I thought. So I'm using my arms! Around this time, I also noticed, I had no peripheral vision and Sam was no where to be found. No matter, I enjoyed my 30 minutes on the ocean floor, just me and the octopuses and squidses and fishies, and occasionally Jem swimming by to make sure I wasn't inadvertantly doing anything lethal to myself. Everything had it's own quiet rhythm down there. The surroundings themselves are so calming, but it's also exhilirating since humans don't normally get to hang out underwater like that.

We emerged and I thought, that was unbelievable! Sam pulls off his mask, and I'm waiting for him to tell me the same thing, and the first thing out of his mouth is, "You almost killed me, twice." "WHAT?" I said, confused. "Yeah," he said. "When you were swimming wildly with your arms, you knocked my breathing apparatus out. Twice. That's why Jem was signaling you." I felt really terrible that I'd almost killed my new husband, but also really glad that it was him having to retrieve his air apparatus for real like we'd practiced and not me, because if that had happened to me I probably would have self destructed from anxiety. All in all, though, it turned out to be a pretty grand adventure. Oh Scuba, I wish I knew how to quit you.