Segue - Whistler PreK (pre-kids) with the hubby. "Honey, the bartender told me skiing the glacier is like a hard blue. Let's do it." Two Lifts, one jay bar then a mile hike in ski boots to the edge of a cliff. He starts calling me a few names, so I do what any good wife would do, I just jump off the ledge leaving him cussing at the top. By the way, he survived and later at the same bar I overheard him saying, "Yep, skied a glacier."
Should I go with the advice of a bartender again? After all, I survived skiing the glacier.
This bartender at the Dirty Onion says, "Why go snorkeling when you can do the helmet diving."
"Helmet diving?" I'm thinking (and dating myself here) Sea Hunt? With the gold diving helmet, the white Speedo and Lloyd Bridges?
"Yes! You see the fish up and close, I swear that guy is friends with the fish."
Hmm. Given the prospect of putting a 75 lb helmet on my head, going under water looking at the reef up close and personal, I'm balking a little at the money.
Taking a picture of my teenager in that helmet and using it as blackmail for the rest of his life?
I'm in.
The boat is as old as the Sea Hunt TV show, the captain welcoming us on board, only two of them, and seven shiny gold helmets.
"Are we the only ones on the boat?" The teenager asks horrified.
Luckily for him there are six in our group as we speed out 1 mile to the reef. I'm signing the "If you die it is not our fault" waivers and start to worry.
I don't like close spaces
I don't like being underwater
I have felt like I was growing in several of my triathlon swims.
Will I freak out?
We all sit quietly waiting, not admitting to each other that we are nervous.
As the deckhand prepares our air hoses the teenager turns to his younger brother, "Remember when you made me mad the other day?"
The youngest nods, then watches his brother pinch the air hose.
Before we could back out, we are on the ladder, the helmet, by a handle settled on our shoulders, and we climb down the latter. All you can hear is the bubbling of the air which I take as a good sign. We follow the ladder to the bottom, walking over to the reef.
Do you know how hard it is to walk on the bottom of the ocean with a helmet on your head while the skirt of your bathing suit rides up to your boobs. We all looked like drunken sailors moving in the water.
The guide knows everyone one of the fish waiting for us at the reef. Charlie the Hogfish, Dennis the Snapper, Earl the Pufferfish. The come right up to the window of my helmet staring at me like, "Look Earl this idiot thinks she's cool down here. Look at high her bathing suit is riding up!" They are sniffing around us for food but our guide is the only one feeding them. When it comes time for pictures, I swear these fish pose for the camera better than Madonna. They float by in front of us, pausing, then smiling before moving on. It's hard because the front of the helmet makes things look larger than they seem, I am hoping that is the case with my thighs. The guide doesn't understand me when I yell, "Just take it from the waist up!"
It is a magical experience as he points out different parts of the reef, holding up signs - rock scallop, brain coral, stinging nettles until my son pinches me and I jump about 15 feet in the air, a very slow progress underwater. I look over to both kids laughing thinking I'll post those pictures right away, not saving them for blackmail.
The dive? An expensive 30 minutes walking around on the bottom of the reef taking in the sights from a different perspective, everyone agreed it was the highlight of the trip.
Oh and later that night when the teenager was complaining about something? I wondered why I didn't pinch his air hose earlier that day?
Sigh
These pics are awesome ... you are so brave!
ReplyDelete