Unlike the Underwater Dive Mistress I am a wiener when it comes to underwater activities. Discovering this was in fact a shock. In high school I wanted to be a marine biologist just so that I could scuba dive during working hours, so imagine my crushing disappointment when the first time I went snorkeling in Vietnam I had a full blown panic attack. Elation to heart palpations in 1 second. I ended up doggy paddling around and got my picture taken with the contraption on my face before calling it an illusion shattering day.
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Buying and Riding a Motorcycle in South East Asia
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Cue my brother’s wedding in Cuba. By this time the German was a part of my life, and he is very much an underwater tourist of the dive mistress (master) variety. He insisted that I try scuba, even went so far as to say it was easier than snorkeling. He stood in the pool with me until I was confident enough not to shoot back up as soon as I went under. Then our oh so kind scuba instructor declared I was ready.
It was an exercise in how not to learn how to scuba dive.
We trooped down to the water and instead of getting in a boat we swam out. Already I was out of breath and nervous at the choppy waves. We go under and I shoot back up gasping for air. He takes my hand and promises to stay with me. We go down again and as soon as we are under the bastard lets go. Over and out, I was finished. Much to the dismay of my uncle and cousins who were along for the ride, and had to swim back to shore with me, before swimming back out a second time to complete their dive.
Really though, would you expect much more form this person:
I thought that the underwater world was closed to me except from above:
And then on our last day in the Perhentian islands I allowed myself to go under water for one last try. (I had a near death experience the day before, but that is a subject for the next Chasing Summer article, I guess I was feeling brave.)
The amazing part – we had a sit down session where they explained how scuba diving works. Then they took us out in a boat, but to water we could stand up in. And finally the dive began.
And it was awesome.
Minus of course making my dive instructor hold my hand the entire time…
…and refusing to go deeper than 5 meters. I had clown fish and parrot fish right where I was, no need to invite in the panic that was hovering at the edges of my consciousness in. Better to potter around with my underwater babysitter!
Once a wiener always a wiener!