It looked scary. After the protected waters of Hanauma, the open ocean--even with some protection in Sharks’ Cove--was intimidating. On the shore of Hanauma you barely notice the waves roll in. In Sharks’ Cove the waves crash onto the rocky shoreline. I was afraid we’d either get caught in an undertow and carried out to sea OR the waves would throw us into the rocks where we would be smashed. But there were a few other people out in the bay, so with great apprehension we approached the water. On our way in, a gentleman assured us there were lots of fish and we didn’t have to go far to see them so we decided to try it. I buddied with Natalie because I figured since she was bigger there was less of a chance I’d have to rescue her and I wasn’t sure I could even rescue myself. We started out for the middle of the cove, but we were regularly knocked into the rocks by the force of the waves rolling in. Not smashed into the rocks, more like stuck hugging a rock. To add to our anxiety, I was shocked at how difficult it was to readjust to breathing though the snorkel. I thought after a few hours the day before, we would just snap back into it. Instead, I would hold my breath until I was ready to panic—and then remember I was wearing a snorkel, and I could just breathe. As we swam near the shore, there were fish, but both Natalie and I were unnerved by the force of the waves and trying to remember to breathe. Shortly we headed over to the safety of the calm waters in the tide pools.
A picture may be worth a thousand words, but I don't have a picture that captures the fear in my heart (unneccessary fear--but very real) as we began snorkeling in the open ocean. I don't even have a good picture of the waves crashing on the rocks. My photo looks like it was a big bathtub! Now I also have the story!
What's your story?