Jill's Journal: 'Swim to me, I save you'

I can dog-paddle with the best of dog-paddlers out there. It’s actually my go-to swim stroke when it comes to water.

As a kid, I took the beginner’s class – twice. As it turned out, the “chicken” inside me wasn’t up to swimming to the deep end of the pool. But by the end of my second go around, I was not only swimming confidently to the deep end, but was leaping off the diving board with no fear.

That’s sort of how my experiences have gone with snorkeling in Caribbean waters and the Pacific Ocean.

My first attempt took place off a boat on the western side of Mexico. My friend Karen and I signed up for a day-long excursion on the water, and at one point of the “cruise” we  were given the opportunity to jump off the boat and into the ocean waters. Outfitted with flippers, goggles and the breathing tube, I watched one after another take the plunge. It took me a little longer to muster up the courage to follow their lead. 

Shortly after I took my leap of faith, other passengers on the cruise – and Karen – were high-tailing it back to the boat. As it turns out, there was a school of jellyfish who were doing what jellyfish do.

My next snorkeling adventure was less intimidating. We were fortunate to have a reef right off the beach of our resort that year. With sparkling and crystal clear blue waters, all of my fears were washed away.

What I haven’t revealed yet, though, is the severe sunburn I endured a day earlier that honestly had me feeling like I had the flu. Nevertheless, how could a simple swim in manageable waters go wrong?

Well, let’s just say that morning’s breakfast didn’t sit well with me.

Yep, you guessed it. I barfed it all up, and within seconds, I had fish of all colors of all kinds surrounding me to grab the “goodies.”

Another time in Jamaica also proved to be memorable for this gal. Once again, we signed up for a glass-bottom boat – albeit you could hardly see through the ‘glass’ bottom – snorkeling excursion. And once again, my boatmates showed no fear as they plunked their bodies into  the blue aqua-colored sea waters.

As for me, it was another one of those ‘Pooh Bear’ moments of the need to muster up my confidence. When I finally did, one fin went flying to the right of me and the other began floating off to the left, and then I surfaced sputtering the salty-tasting water.

The “captain” of our boat was a Jamaican who went by the way of “Cool Bob.” He obviously saw that I was struggling to recoup the fins and recover from the salt water that had infiltrated my mouth upon my “splash down.”

His life-saving measures, however, had something to be desired. Or at least that’s what I thought in the moment.

He didn’t fire up the boat motor.

No life ring came my way.

Nor did he dive in to save me.

“‘Swim to me, I save you,’” was his simple solution of “saving” this Midwestern 30-something gal.

I’m proud to say that I “saved” myself that day, no thanks to Cool Bob. As it turns out, all I had to do was think like a dog and start paddling.