Snorkel trip from hell

So we signed up for a tour to go to the outer reef to a little island called Silk Caye (pronounced key), a lovely little island, about one acre, with a few palm trees, a bathroom, a pit for bbq, and lots of beautiful white sand. We were assured by the purveyor that there would definitely be instruction on snorkelling. After picking out our gear at the shop, we hopped in the boat with five other people, our guide Raphael and another guy, the chef, who was to grill up a freshly caugh fish for our lunch. As we said our hellos, Tom and I were totally out urbaned (a feeling we're not very used to) by a boatful of people from NYC and surrounding area, and also all seasoned snorkellers.

So here we are, Tom and I, the troglodytes from Chicago, still confident that we're going to have a fun day of snorkelling, on a boat on our way out to the outer reef. The ride out there was great - breezy and beautiful. The water was so clear, and in spots, we were in shallow enough water that we could see the bottom, which was a lot farther down than it looked. Absolutely beautiful. We went through a bunch of little cayes and ended up, about 40 minutes later, at silk caye. We got off the boat and found a little spot to put our stuff and to apply more sunscreen. SUNSCREEN! I think we've gone through like 5 bottles, and we've bought more.

So Tom and I grab our gear and head out with the rest of the folks into the water. We soon find that Tom's snorkel is missing a very important part that will keep water out of it. Fortunately, there's an extra mask and snorkel, but the mask doesn't fit him very well and he starts to panic in the water. When you start to panic, you can usually breath through it, calm yourself down, and head along your merry way. But, if you're Tom, and unsure of your swimming and snorkelling in general and just having had equipment problems, it's probably best to turn back. So he did, and I with him. I certainly wasn't going to let him sit there and freak out all by himself. Besides, this is our honeymoon right? We should probably stick together and enjoy it together. So we turned back and hung out on the beach while the others went along.

While the rest snorkelled, Tom and I played in the clear part of the beach without coral and urchins. The place was beautiful, cool and breezy, and we had a good time. When everyone got back in, we had grilled fish for lunch, potatos, pineapple and juice. It was all very good and digesting it on the beach in the breeze was fun too. After that, the group decided to go to a different place to snorkel on the inner reef where there would be more undisturbed coral and more wildlife. So we hopped in the boat and headed towards that place.

Then the boat stopped in the water. As it turned out, the propellers had been damaged *and* we were out of gas. Our guide, obviously frustrated, let us know that he's actually a freelance guide working for the company through which we got our tour. They gave him this boat and assured us that it was full of gas and everything was in order, which was obviously not the case. So he called for help and we floated. Tom and I prepared for the sun a little more and chatted with the really interesting people on the boat with us. I couldn't hear when everyone was doing introductions, so I only know the name of one of the guys on the boat, since everyone kept calling him by his name. He is a producer for pbs in new york, in charge of secrets of the dead and religion and ethics news weekly and reminded me a lot of Joe. I tried a little bit to get some insider info to pass along to Joe (because I can't remember a time when Joe was happier with his job than when we worked for WBGU) but learned nothing useful. One woman is an actress and another worked for Metlife - I don't know what the other guys did, but I'm sure it was also interesting. We chatted for a bit about good places to eat on Placencia and other smalltalk sort of subjects until fortunately, a reserve fuel tank was discovered and we were on our way again, albeit slowly.

Arriving at our destination, the anchor was thrown and everyone, minus Tom, got out of the boat and began snorkelling. The water was crystal clear, like being in a bathtub, and the ocean like a jungle (mozer osheen is lak a wooomb) of coral and wildlife, pristine and undsisturbed. I got a little ways away from the boat when I realized that my eyes were burning not because I had sunscreen in them but because my mask was filling up with water. After trying to remedy the situation and failing miserably, I swam back to the boat - where I came to my biggest challenge - getting my fat ass back on the boat.

There was no ladder, only a little step. The water was incredibly choppy, so everytime I tried to hoist myself up, a wave would come along and bounce the boat around. When the waves weren't complicating things, I had problems with my body floating underneath the boat. I got halfway up for quite some time but couldn't get myself into a position where I could foist myself the rest of the way into the boat. This went on for about a half an hour and I was downright pissed off, panicky, and well, just losing my shit all together. Tom did his best to help me up and calm me down, but getting my fat ass back into the boat proved to be an overwhelming task for the both of us. Fortunately, Raphael came to the rescue and made a little rope ladder for me to step up on and aided in foisting me into the boat. I sat there and calmed down for a little bit and the rest of the people came back to the boat not too long after. They all managed to make it into the boat just fine.

So off we went, slowly, back to Placencia a whole two and a half hours later than we were expected. Then we ran out of fuel. Again. Raphael called for fuel and aid and we all sat around and chatted some more. Twenty or so minutes later another boat arrived and one of the others in the boat exclaimed, "there's that asshole that almost killed us the other day!" Much to my surprise, we then roped ourselves to that asshole who then towed us into shore. Fortunately, he didn't participate in any of the shenanigans that earned him the asshole title, such as speeding towards the shore, lassoing the anchor into air and throwing it down with the anchor stopping the boat seconds before the land did. Regardless, he was our only hope at this point, so as long as I made it in alive, I was ok. The waves got progressively choppier, tossing the boat around to the point where I was afraid it was going to capsize. All I could think of was having to hoist my fat ass back into the boat and how horrible that would be. Fortunately, we made it to shore, greatful to see land and too tired / worn out to ask for a refund or pitch a fit about the failed equipment. What a trip.

After a shower and a little cooling off in the hammock, Tom and I headed to the Purple Space Monkey for dinner where we saw none other than Raphael, doing another of his many jobs. The margaritas were cold, the food (conche ceviche, tropical cucumber tomato and olive salad, and shrimp creole) devine, and the wifi free, making that the best damn meal I had on Placencia. I forget what Tom had, but it was also mighty tasty. I think we were asleep not too long after that. It was a hell of a day.

04.15.07 9:44am(5 comments)