The ocean was the perfect temperature, the sand in the shallows soothing on my feet. When I got in past my knees, I waded a little more hoping for deeper water before getting in completely, but the slope had leveled out and thigh deep was as good as it got. No wonder there were so many kids and their parents splashing around with shrieks of, “Look at this, Mom,” and “Dad, Dad, come here. Get a load of this purple fish.” I could understand why Jim had been in a hurry to get to deeper water.
I wasn’t a strong swimmer, but I could swim well enough, so I thought that somewhere in between the kiddie pool and Jim’s deeper water was a good place for me. Jim had gone way over on the far side of the bay, not too far out, but just away from all the kids. I was disappointed that he didn’t stay near me while we snorkeled, but I could understand him wanting to get away from the crowds. He wasn’t used to having a lot of people around like I was—at least that’s how it used to be when I lived in Ontario. It’s what I was trying to get away from when I came out west—all that busy downtown hubbub. Well, I got more isolation than I bargained for when I married Robert. But Jim and I had been practically glued together for the past few months, so I couldn’t blame him for wanting some alone time.
Once I got beyond the crowd near shore, I slipped into the water and let it float me around wherever it wanted to take me. Once in a while, I moved my flippers gently, and watched the world go by. The water world, that is. The fish didn’t seem to mind me being there. It must be that they were used to so many tourists being in the water here, day after day, year after year. It was a park, after all.
Tiny purple fish swam past. Zebra stripes, brilliant electric blue, bulgy-eyed, gold with streamer-like fins, black and yellow, flat ones parallel to the bottom, flat ones perpendicular to the bottom, some with moustaches sweeping the bottom, tiny neon types—aquarium escapees. I was fascinated watching their actions—inquisitive, floating, flitting, hunting, wary. I followed one fish that was about two feet long if you didn’t count the needle-like tail that added on another eight inches or so. It had a face that looked like its lips would attach to my mask and never let go, but it swam near the bottom so I didn’t think I’d have a problem with it. It looked like a candle or a pipe and I made a mental note to look it up when we got home. The fish hid in the plant life or in mini caves within the coral, which I didn’t touch, just in case. The reef seemed to go for quite some distance like the wall of a swimming pool. I followed along the wall and when I came to an opening I floated through it easily. The fish on the other side of the wall were slightly bigger and there were fewer of them, but still, enough to be entertaining.
After a while, I lifted my head to look for Jim, but he was no longer in the deeper area where he had first gone. I scanned the shallow bay and thought I saw him standing in the middle of the rabble. I decided it was a good time to come in, so I kicked my flippers towards the opening in the reef, intending to go through it back to the shallow pool. The water wasn’t deep here on the other side, but over my head just the same.
As I reached the entrance to the sheltered bay, I kicked to go through it, but the sea sucked me backwards into the deeper water again. When that wave was gone and a new one headed for shore, I kicked hard to go through the opening this time. I was halfway through when the wave receded again and took me back with it. I needed to hang onto something so I wouldn’t be swept back next time, but there was only the reef, and I had Jim’s warning in my head. Don’t touch the fire coral.
The wave had taken me out again and I turned to look out towards the deeper water of the open sea behind me. The headland of the bay was shaped like a lion guarding a gate. Would I end up there? I turned to look for Jim. He had his arm up shading his eyes from the sun, looking for me among so many heads in the bay. He didn’t know I was way out here.
I kicked to get back to the gap in the coral reef, but by the time I reached it the next wave was already taking me out again. My muscles were burning and tired and I tried not to panic, but my stomach clenched as invading waves of fear washed over me. I had three choices: yell for help, embarrassing and no one would hear me anyway; hold onto the coral and maybe get stung—if I could get to the entrance again, that is; or be swept out to that headland where I’m sure the sharks were already smacking their lips as they cruised back and forth. None of those choices appealed to me.
Someplace deep inside of me, there had to be a reserve of energy. I reminded myself that I was no longer the helpless Andrea who had let herself be beaten and cowed. I was the new Andrea with guts and determination. When the next wave took me close to the gap in the reef, I went with it and then kicked and kicked with all my might while the surge threatened to take me back out. I only had to keep up the super hard kicking for another few seconds before another wave would push me in again. Hang in there. At last, the wave came and I imagined Robert’s fists pounding me. I kicked away from him and that extra burst of energy took me into the shelter of the bay. I looked up again and Jim had spotted me. He waved, smiling. I waved, smiling. Little did he know my whole body was shaking. I lay face down in the water again and slowly snorkeled in very close to shore, only getting up to walk when the water was knee deep because I couldn’t trust my legs to carry me.
Jim came rushing over. “Andrea! I didn’t know where you were.” He grabbed my upper arms when I teetered off balance. “I should have stayed with you, but after so much time together I thought you’d be happy for a break from me.”
“Never,” I gasped.
Jim turned to look at my face. “Hey! Are you okay?”
“Sure am.” Now. “What do you say to a bit of lunch? Pineapple?” I coughed to mask my quavering voice.
As we left the beach later on, we stopped by the park gates to look at the huge sign that had a map of the bay posted. “Look here, Jim. It has each area identified. You should never have been swimming where you went. It says ‘Dangerous Undertow.’”
“So it does! And where were you swimming?”
I looked on the map. The whole area where I had gone through the gap said, “Strong swimmers only.”
I waved in the general direction of the safe side of the reef. “Oh, somewhere around here.”
I took Jim’s arm and walked to the car with him. “Come on. I’m good and ready to go home.” I knew Robert would be waiting for me somewhere and sometime soon, but after today I could face anything.