{SNORKELING}
After breakfast, I returned to our room to collect my mother. She’d never been one for breakfast, or one to leave her home without a full face of makeup.
As requested, I brought her a cup of coffee.
“You really should put on a little more lipstick, honey,” she told me as I grabbed my backpack.
Another rule for being out in public. I should needlepoint these pearls of wisdom on a pillow. To avoid further remark, I put on some lip gloss. Her face said it all. She wasn’t a fan of the color. Fortunately, she made no more comments about my lip color as she followed me out of the room.
We arrived in the lobby with five minutes to spare and waited for our transportation.
Milo and Frank were already waiting.
“Oh, how nice to see you again, Frank,” my mother said. “Do you think we’re on the same trip?” she asked me.
“The Silfra tour?” I asked them both.
We were both pleased when the men answered yes. Romance was back on the table for this vacation!
Our smiles were fleeting. They dissipated with the arrival of Frank’s family. He got up to introduce the approaching ladies. “This is my daughter, Callie.”
Callie strode up to Milo and kissed him firmly on the lips. She was clearly staking her claim. “Where’s your wedding ring, Milo?” Callie asked.
Romance was once again off the table.
“Left it in the room, I guess,” he answered.
“They just got married,” Frank told us.
Teresa coughed, signaling she had not been introduced.
“This is my…” Frank started but then hesitated. It was as if he had forgotten who she was.
Teresa glared at him.
Callie looked back and forth between them and laughed. “Daddy, you’re so silly. This is his wife, my mom, Teresa.”
Teresa didn’t acknowledge us. Her glare remained fixated on Frank.
“Here’s the rest of the wedding party now,” Callie said. She pointed to two people headed for us. “That’s my maid of honor, Becca, and the best man, Jed.”
I felt my stomach fall. Not only was Milo taken, I was now joining their wedding party on an all-day tour. If I thought the remarks about what one should and shouldn’t do in public were bad, it was going to quickly get worse. The comments from my mother about me being single would be starting soon. The reasons why I was single would soon follow.
“I can’t wait to hear about the wedding!” my mother exclaimed. She walked up to Teresa and asked, “Let me see the pictures! I cannot wait until one of my children gets married!” She glanced in my direction. “But it may be a while.”
And the passive-aggressive portion of my vacation had begun.
A young man entered the lobby and called out, “Who’s here for Silfra snorkeling?”
“More swimming?” my mother asked.
“What did you think snorkeling entailed, Mother?”
“I didn’t bring my bathing suit.”
“You don’t need it,” the guide told her. “You’ll be wearing a dry suit.”
She nodded but looked doubtful.
“I’m Sigivar Eggertsson. Everyone calls me Sigi. I’ll explain everything when we get there. Please follow me to our ride.”
After marking our names off of Sigi’s list, and signing a waiver saying we were healthy enough to snorkel and releasing the company from liability, the eight of us boarded the mini bus. I chose a single seat in the back, one seat in front of Frank. I was surprised to see my mother join Teresa.
Teresa took out a tin of mints from her purse. She handed them to my mother, who declined.
Milo reached over as he passed her. “Thanks, Mom,” he said, grabbing a mint.
I thought I saw a sneer pass over Teresa’s face.
The bride and groom and the other couple sat in the next two rows behind them.
“We have an hour ride to Thingvellir National Park. Enjoy our beautiful country along the way.”
And I did, when I wasn’t holding on for dear life as Sigi made sharp turns and hard stops. I was glad I had put the seat belt on.
It was a diverse landscape. Land covered in green lined the area alongside the winding road. I’d read in one magazine on the plane that someone said Iceland should have been called Greenland and Greenland should have been named Iceland. As we traveled, I saw mainly green and definitely no ice. Maybe they were right.
An hour later we arrived at a small parking lot, where two similar vans were parked.
“If anyone needs to use the bathroom, use it now,” Sigi announced. He pointed to the waiting bathrooms. “There is no peeing in the water here. These are insulated suits, so if you do we will all know because you will have peed in your own clothes.”
No one hesitated. We all headed to the bathrooms.
“Make sure you’re wearing your long underwear when you come back,” he shouted after us.
When I returned to the van, another group was returning to the parking lot after their snorkel adventure. They looked cold but happy. It was about sixty degrees, partly sunny, not exactly swimming weather. I hoped these suits were as well-insulated as advertised.
“What kind of thing did you book us on?” my mother asked me when I returned from the bathroom. “Callie just gave Milo a motion sickness pill.”
“It was probably from the van ride. The road was curvy. Maybe he gets car sick.” And Sigi’s driving skills weren’t the best.
“No,” she answered. “She clearly said it was for the snorkeling.” She glanced back at them. Callie and Milo were talking. Becca was with them. “He looks fine.” She leaned in close and whispered, “Better than fine. Don’t you think, honey?”
“He’s half your age, Mother.”
She shrugged. “Your sister is a lot more fun.” She looked over at the group returning from their snorkeling. “I don’t think I’m going to like this.”
Knowing her, she was worried about her hair.
“Doesn’t matter,” I told her. “You can stay here if you want. I’m going.”
She looked over at the other van full of passengers getting ready to snorkel the continental divide. They were in various stages of dress and were struggling into the neoprene dry suits. I think the neoprene hood was what completely turned her off. That would definitely disturb the hair.
“Oh no. This is not for me. I am not getting into that,” she announced.
I had to admit it was unflattering. I didn’t think any wet or dry suit would be flattering but an insulated one that went over your head was even less so.
The group had returned to Sigi and our van. He had changed into his dry suit while we’d been at the bathroom. “Are we all ready?” he asked.
We nodded, except my mother.
“Welcome to Thingvellir National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage site, where you’ll float between two continents! We’ll be spending thirty to forty minutes in the water today. The most strenuous part of our day will be getting into our dry suits.” He started handing out suits. “These insulated suits will keep you dry and warm in the approximately three degree Celsius water today.” He must have seen the blank faces with the word Celsius and did the conversion for us. “Thirty-seven point four degrees Fahrenheit.”
All of us, except my mother, were dressed in our thermal underwear. We followed Sigi step by step to get into first the nylon undersuit and then the neoprene dry suits. As we did, he told us what to expect during our experience.
I struggled with the head portion and tried not to freak out when it got stuck on my head. I reminded myself that my mother was here and if I had a panic attack, I would hear about it for the rest of my life and she would try to get my sister to examine me. I did not need my sister finding out about this.
I finally got my head through and took a deep breath. As deep as I could get in the tight suit. When I opened my eyes, I saw my mom fiddling with her phone.
“Where’s your nan when I need her?” she asked.
It was sad that my mother’s mom, my nan, was better with technology than my mother. It was even sadder that I thought Nan was better with technology than me too.
I was moments away from a panic attack again as I struggled to breathe in the suit. The neck portion was tight. I willed myself to calm down.
“Looking good, Naomi,” Milo said as he approached me. “All we need is the white mask from the Blue Lagoon and we’d have the best vacation photos of all time.”
My laughter caught Callie’s eye and, this time, I was sure, a sneer.
He pulled at the neck portion of the suit. “It’s a little hard to breathe in, right?”
I nodded.
“Hey, Milo, here’s your water,” Jed called out. He launched the water bottle at him.
Milo caught it mere inches from my head.
Always in search of saving money, I had read that I could drink the water from the tap here. I would waste no money on bottled water on this trip. “You know you can drink water from the tap here, don’t you?”
Before he could answer, Callie came over and planted a big, and long, kiss on her new husband. There was nothing subtle about it.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Great,” he answered. Arm in arm, they walked back to their wedding party.
Frank slapped Milo on this back. “Ready?” he asked.
Milo nodded before taking another long sip of the bottled water.
“All right, my group, this way,” Sigi ordered. “Are we all ready to float in the clearest water in world?”
We all nodded and followed Sigi out of the parking lot.
“The water here is two to three degrees Celsius and originates in Langjökull glacier about fifty kilometers away. About thirty miles.”
I heard my mother mumble something about “frigid” and “You have lost your mind.” I ignored her.
Sigi then returned to his spiel. “The water has been filtered through underground lava for about a hundred years before reaching the fissure. It is one of the reasons for the outstanding clarity of the water.” He tapped the camera around his neck. “I’ll be taking pictures and video during our snorkel.” He tapped his GoPro video camera on his chest and pointed to his camera. “They’re available for purchase.”
The wedding group started toward the trail, which was across a small roadway. I was a few steps behind. My mother stayed where she was in the parking lot.
Sigi walked over to my mom. “You can come too. You can watch them float from the walkway.”
She nodded and met me at the roadway.
“You look ridiculous,” she told me as she snapped a picture. She’d given up on using her phone for pictures. She now had her small point-and-shoot camera.
“You’re the one who stands out.”
“I always stand out, honey.”
Once a car passed, I crossed the street, leaving my mother. I tried to walk faster, to get some space from her, but the suit made it difficult.
I turned to see where my mother was, mainly fearing she was taking more photos of me in the unflattering dry suit. Milo and Sigi were talking heatedly a few feet behind my mother. I waited for my mother to catch up.
“What’s that about?” I asked her.
She looked back and shrugged. “I don’t know.”
After a five-minute walk, we arrived at our entry point. Sigi pointed my mother toward the walkway. She waved frantically. “Naomi, I’ll stay up here.”
I gave her an awkward thumbs-up in the suit’s mittens.
“Who’s first?” Sigi asked.
“Naomi,” Teresa announced. “It’ll be better for the pictures.”
“Teresa,” Frank rebuked.
I stepped forward, knowing she was right. I did not want to be in their wedding album photos, especially in a dry suit, and they did not want a stranger in their book. I followed Sigi down the metal staircase into the water, expecting the cold water to chill me. It didn’t. The dry suit did its job and kept me warm and dry.
Sigi signaled me to put on my fins. He held my hand as I struggled to put them on. The others seemed to have less difficulty.
I waited on the platform for his next instructions. The others were lined up behind me.
“Remember, the only time you’ll need to put in a little effort is up ahead at the turn. When you get to the open area, the current will try to pull you out to the lake on the right. You need to swim toward your left. Only a couple minutes.”
We all nodded understanding.
“I do not want to have to chase after any of you into the lake. Okay?”
He looked at me pointedly. Mistakes made from a previous vacation, I had listened closely to Sigi’s instructions. I wondered if my mother had warned him I had a tendency to not listen.
He stepped off the platform, camera at the ready, and waved me in. I adjusted my face mask and took one last deep breath before putting the snorkel in my mouth. I lay prone on the water and took in the breathtaking sight the underwater view held for us. From above, you could not see the mesmerizing colors and depth.
The blue-green water was crystal clear. The jagged sides were lined with dark volcanic rocks. There was nothing but water and rocks to view. No fish. No coral. Nothing other snorkeling adventures would entail. And yet it was captivating. It held a range of blues and greens with occasional golden brown glistening off the rocks. The bottom seemed miles away.
The gentle current took me away. In a Superman-like pose, I floated in the glacial water between the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates. I didn’t even know such a thing existed before booking the trip.
I felt nothing. The water was the clearest I’d ever seen. The depth infinite.
As the depths along the edge varied, so did the colors. Some tans, some blues, some greens colored my vision. I looked back and saw the others starting to get in the water.
Sigi swam around them snapping photos.
I occasionally kicked when the current slowed. Sigi glided toward me and took a few photos. He took his head out of the water. Though muffled, I heard him say that the turn was coming up. Not wanting to miss any of the view, I didn’t look up. I gave him a thumbs-up.
Moments later, the crosscurrent hit me as the guide had warned. It was with more force than I had expected.
Visions of being swept away into some lake ran through my mind. I gently kicked, trying to fight it. It seemed to do little and I was farther from the left lava rock wall that I’d been instructed to stay close to. I thought I heard Sigi shout my name. I kicked harder and fought the current and, finally, I won.
As I made the turn, the crosscurrent eased and I returned to a relaxing float on the crystal-clear water. The depth was far more shallow after the turn but its beauty didn’t wane.
The sunlight glinted on the surface ahead of me, tinting the water with an orange hue. I hoped Sigi’s photos captured a portion of this beauty.
I saw the ending spot, the stairs ahead. I took a few more mental pictures before gently kicking my legs to propel me there.
As I got to the upright staircase, I grabbed the rails and climbed the stairs out of the water. I realized my face was frozen. Distracted by the beauty of the Silfra, I hadn’t noticed until I removed the face mask and snorkel.
I looked back at the water. I was first out of the water. Seven bodies, clad in black wet suits, lay along the water surface. I could only identify Sigi because of the camera. He often held his head out of the water and took note of his group.
My mother took more photos of me in my dry suit. I only wanted pictures of the Silfra fissure, not me in the unflattering suit. She reviewed her photos. “This may be the picture I use for the Christmas letter.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
The chill of the water hit me and my body began to shake.
I took off the gloves. It only made the chill worse.
Becca got out of the water next. “That was neat,” she said.
Jed was next. “So cool!”
I watched as, one by one, the group headed to the stairs. Except one, who didn’t seem to be making progress. He, or she, lay prone on the water. I couldn’t tell who it was. Everyone looked the same in their dry suits.
Callie, followed by her mother, then father, got out of the water. The wedding group huddled around each other, retelling their experiences.
I was the only one to see Milo wasn’t moving. I ran up to the guide, who had made it to the stairs, and pointed at Milo. “He’s not moving,” I told Sigi.
“We always get one straggler. Probably just enjoying the view. It’s spectacular, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Definitely.” I looked back at Milo. I had taken a few moments before getting out too. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I conceded.
But it didn’t feel right. Flashbacks from my safari hit me. I wiped them from my mind. Just because I found a dead body on the last trip did not mean I’d find one on this trip.
It was implausible really. Who goes on vacation and finds a dead body? Twice?
The guide looked at his watch and called out. “Milo, time to come in!”
No response.
He swam out to him. I saw him wave his hand underwater in front of Milo’s prone face.
The group had finally noticed one of them was missing.
“What’s Milo doing?” Frank asked.
“Joking around probably,” Jed answered.
Teresa looked at her watch. “It’s time to get back to the hotel. We have reservations at five.”
“We were already running late. I told you not to make that reservation so early,” Callie told her mother.
The guide poked Milo. There was no response. He poked him again, this time with more force, and Milo’s body flipped over. Sigi screamed.
“Stop joking around, Milo!” Jed yelled.
“Call 112,” Sigi yelled toward us.
Only my mother had her cell phone on her.
She fumbled with it and dialed 911.
“No!” I yelled. “Give it to me.” I dialed 112. I hesitated as the number rang. I couldn’t pronounce where we were. Would “Thing-something” be enough to locate us?
The wedding group started screaming and Jed jumped back in the water to help Sigi bring Milo to the stairs. The commotion brought others to the area.
Another guide ran up and took the phone from me. He spoke in Icelandic to the operator.
Frank ran to the ladder and helped Sigi and Jed pull Milo out of the water.
They started CPR. My mother and I stood helpless off to the side.
Callie screamed when Sigi announced, “He’s dead.”
R.I.P. in Reykjavik
Available May 15, 2020